Chapter 2
Chapter 2: In Her Youth
“You bastard. Stop acting like some chaste martyr—hand it over!”
Bai Meng Jin woke to pain.
Her shoulder hit the floor, hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Before she could even gather herself, something was ripped from her hand—thin paper, the sharp scent of ink, a stack she’d been gripping even in sleep.
She blinked, ears ringing.
[Who’s got a death wish, daring to act up in front of me? If I don’t wipe out your whole family, then those heavenly servants have been calling me a devil fiend for a thousand years for nothing.]
Her gaze lifted—
—and she met the vicious face of a boy.
She went still.
Not from fear.
From the way something in her chest lurched, wrong-footed, like a sword suddenly remembering an old scabbard.
“Brother?” she heard herself say.
The boy didn’t even look up as he flipped through the talismans. “You think you can call me ‘brother’? Look in a mirror and see if you’re worthy.”
The lackey beside him puffed up, eager to bare teeth on his master’s behalf. “Call him Eldest Young Master!”
The boy’s lip curled with satisfaction. Then, frowning as if searching for the right insult, he added, “Quit pretending you’re some… chaste martyr.”
The lackey winced and leaned in, voice careful. “Young Master, ‘chaste martyr’ doesn’t really fit here…”
After all, she was just a girl, not some kidnapped maiden.
“Doesn’t it?” The boy considered, then brightened. “Then ‘pure as jade’!”
The lackey’s shoulders slumped. “…No.”
Fine. Wrong was wrong. As long as Young Master was happy.
Bai Meng Jin stared at them, blank.
Then she turned her head—slowly, as if afraid the world would shatter if she moved too fast.
A spacious hall. Rows of neat desks. A plaque hanging above the front, bearing three bold characters that her mind knew before her eyes finished reading them.
The Dao-Heart Inquiry Hall.
Even after a thousand years, she recognized it.
This was the Bai Family school.
She had studied Dao arts here until the day she left home at fourteen.
And the boy standing over her—smug, petty, cruel in that way only sheltered children could afford—was Bai Meng Xing, the cousin who had always loved bullying her.
Bai Meng Jin’s fingers tightened against the floor.
What was going on?
Had the Reincarnation Mirror dragged her into an illusion of her youth?
It didn’t make sense. Illusions struck at a cultivator’s weak spots, digging for the rot in their Dao heart. But the Bai Family had long since turned to dust. She didn’t miss them. She didn’t mourn them. She didn’t—
“Let’s go.” Bai Meng Xing shoved the talismans into his sleeve and jerked his chin at his lackey.
At the door, he paused long enough to throw the warning over his shoulder. “If you dare tell Master, you’re finished!”
The door slammed behind him.
Bai Meng Jin sat on the floor for a heartbeat longer, staring at the place where he’d been.
Then memory slid into place like a blade clicking into its sheath.
This was her last year in the Bai Family.
Because her parents had died early, she’d been an easy target.
Bai Meng Xing, in particular, loved stealing her work whenever he fell behind. Those talismans were tomorrow’s assignment—paper, ink, and brush all made by hand. It took hours. Once he took them, there wouldn’t be enough time to redo everything in a single night.
A thousand years had blurred the edges, but she remembered the shape of it.
Back then, she’d marked the talismans. When Master checked them, he noticed. Bai Meng Xing made a fool of himself in front of everyone.
It felt like a victory at the time.
It also angered the uncle who backed Bai Meng Xing.
Bai Ding Chang: righteous face, filthy heart. On the surface, he was fair and upright; in truth, he was greedy and petty, the kind of man who smiled while sharpening knives.
He kept his calm, then retaliated in silence.
When an envoy from the Cinnabar Cloud Palace came to recruit disciples, Bai Ding Chang made sure Bai Meng Jin lost face in public. She missed her chance to enter through the front gate.
So she’d risked her life to break through the Heaven-Reaching Path instead.
Bai Meng Jin exhaled through her nose, something close to a laugh and even closer to contempt.
Her comeback had been clever, but she’d been young. She’d missed the simplest truth.
Even when people can’t catch you with evidence, they’ll still come for you.
Malice didn’t need proof. Half the time, it didn’t even need a reason.
The heavenly servants liked to say she destroyed the clan that raised her because she’d suffered a little grievance.
Most of that rumor was false.
But one thing was true: in the Bai Family, she had swallowed enough grievances to choke on.
The difference now was that she’d already swallowed them a thousand years ago.
This was an illusion—or something pretending to be one.
Either way, she wasn’t going to wrong herself here again.
After a thousand years as Yu Mo, Your Excellency had long forgotten what grievance tasted like.
Outside, Bai Meng Xing strutted down the corridor with his stolen talismans, whistling as if he’d earned them.
He’d known it. Bai Meng Jin had finished her work early. Tomorrow’s homework was no longer his problem.
That damned girl annoyed him in every way. No father, no mother—who knew if she was some bastard from outside, pretending to be Bai blood? And she always wore that proud look.
What was she proud of?
She was only good at flattering Master.
But once they stopped memorizing and started fighting, she’d see it clearly. He was the real talent.
Still pleased with himself, Bai Meng Xing rounded the corner—
—and his foot slid out from under him.
“Ow!”
He went down face-first, smacking dirt hard enough to rattle teeth.
“Young Master!” The lackey lunged to help him up.
It was a brutal fall. Bai Meng Xing’s knees bruised instantly, and his nose struck the ground. Blood burst out.
His hands flew up in panic. “Blood—blood…!”
“Don’t move, Young Master.” The lackey pinched his nose. “It’ll stop.”
Bai Meng Xing had already drawn qi into his body. A nosebleed was nothing. It stopped quickly.
He wiped the blood away with his sleeve, eyes stinging with shame and rage, then spun around and pointed straight at Bai Meng Jin.
“You damned girl—did you do this? So that’s it! You ambushed your brother!”
Bai Meng Xing always did this. Whenever he embarrassed himself, it couldn’t possibly be his fault. Someone else had to bleed for it.
Usually, Bai Meng Jin would deny it, argue until her throat went raw, and the fight would spiral until he finally felt satisfied.
This time, she didn’t bother.
“Yes,” Bai Meng Jin said, voice mild. “I did it. What about it?”
Bai Meng Xing blinked, wrong-footed by her calm.
Bai Meng Jin tilted her head, expression earnest in a way that made it worse. “And it’s not ‘too noble to see dust.’ It’s ‘disrespecting your elders.’ You can’t even tell the words apart. What happens when you read your cultivation manuals backward someday?”
Her smile sharpened. “Brother, you should read more books and cause less trouble. If you practice the wrong technique and your meridians run backward, it won’t be pretty.”
Bai Meng Xing’s face went red with fury. He hadn’t expected her to be so arrogant.
“You’ve got some nerve!” he screamed. “You bastard—if the family hadn’t kindly kept you, you’d have died outside long ago!”
His chest heaved. Spit flew.
“You dared lay hands on me today. If I don’t teach you a lesson, you won’t learn why flowers are red. Grab her!”
Several lackeys answered at once. Their eyes shone with ugly excitement as they surged forward like wolves.
Bai Meng Jin didn’t move.
They got close—
—and then, without anyone understanding how, they hit the floor.
A shoulder slammed into a table leg. Someone’s forehead clipped the corner of a desk. Knees and elbows struck wood in a chorus of oaths.
The lackeys cursed, thinking they’d tripped. They blamed each other, scrambled up, and lunged again—
—and fell into a heap a second time, as if the earth itself were laughing.
Even the stupidest among them realized something was wrong.
Bai Meng Xing’s voice cracked with panic and rage. “What did you do?”
Bai Meng Jin spread her hands. “Aren’t I just standing here? Brother, why are you accusing me for no reason?”
How could Bai Meng Xing believe that?
His own fall was proof.
He stomped forward, meaning to grab her himself.
His legs went soft.
He hit the ground with a thud and nearly cracked his teeth.
Bai Meng Jin walked toward him, smile bright and cheerful, like a child approaching a friend.
For the first time, real fear flashed in Bai Meng Xing’s eyes.
He scrambled backward on his elbows, trying to keep his voice brave. “If you touch me, I’ll tell my father! Someone—someone come here!”
But he’d chased everyone away so he could steal the talismans. The corridor was empty.
No one came.
“Ah—! Stop! Stop it!”
His insults came out in a frantic, ugly stream.
“You damned girl! Bastard with no mother—!”
Then pain stole the words.
“Waaah—stop hitting me, it hurts… Stop… I was wrong…”
A quarter of an hour later, Bai Meng Jin stepped out of the schoolroom, smoothing her sleeves as if she’d done nothing more violent than drink tea.
Her breathing was even. Her eyes were clear.
She felt refreshed.
It occurred to her, idly, that the Reincarnation Mirror was oddly considerate.
Had it thrown her into this—whatever this was—just to let her vent to her heart’s content?