[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 7
“You and I, right now, are probably bound by the same Fate-Link Curse.”
Shiliu’s voice wasn’t loud, yet He Chong immediately fixed his gaze tightly on the wrist she had extended. There, indeed, a faint red line had appeared, winding vaguely along the blue veins as if trying to burrow into the skin. When he looked over at the young master, he too was holding up his hand to examine it—sure enough, he had one as well.
More pressing than his gaze was the stare from those peach-blossom eyes. It was unclear whether it was anger or hatred, but it felt like suddenly falling into an icy cavern frozen under the cold moon of a winter night—devoid of any warmth.
“Little Taoist, spreading falsehoods will get you skinned and your tongue ripped out.” His voice still carried a trace of youthful clarity, but the more captivating his appearance, the more chilling his words became.
“I’m not lying,” Shiliu turned to face those peach-blossom eyes and stated bluntly.
She truly wasn’t lying. The two of them had indeed been bound by the Fate-Link Curse.
The Entrapment Array was founded on pure Yang blood, with Yin-natured blood as the medium. The balance of Yin and Yang created an endless cycle, allowing it to lure in powerful supernatural beings. Its greatest advantage was its ability to trap these beings alive within the array.
This array was equivalent to forming a pact. But who could have known that this bird monster was an extremely rare male-female twin? And the one trapped in the array happened to be the female bird. At the cost of her Yin body, she crashed into the heart of the array, forcibly breaking it.
Though the array was broken, the pact remained. Their blood had mingled, and the established covenant cycled endlessly. It wouldn’t cease until the target of the pact was captured.
Now, the female bird was dead, and the male bird had escaped. Naturally, the pact hadn’t been fulfilled, so the backlash fell upon the ones who had established the pact—the two of them, the unlucky ones.
Moreover…
Shiliu cleared her throat and said, “These birds are a twin pair, destined to be born and die on the same day, inseparable, sharing the same fate and destiny. Now that the female bird has filled the array’s eye and died from blood loss, it’s equivalent to using her life to cast a curse, seeking revenge on those who separated her from her mate. That’s why we’ve been bound by the Fate-Link Curse.”
“If you don’t believe me, check if there’s a red line on your wrist. Those who have left the worldly life do not speak deceit.”
Shiliu wasn’t lying. The bird was indeed a Fate-Link Bird—if one died alone, it would birth a curse. She had just cleverly, appropriately, and quite understandably omitted the role her own array had played in this.
At the same time, she finally remembered why such a remarkably ingenious array was so rarely used, to the point that the book describing it had gathered dust in a corner, untouched by anyone.
First, pure Yang blood was exceptionally rare—one in ten thousand. Second, although this array possessed boundless Taoist power, capable of capturing great demons alive, it also formed an irrevocable pact. If it failed, the backlash would transfer to the one who set the array.
The crucial warning was actually written on the second page of the flipped book! Such important content should have been highlighted in red and written three times at the very beginning!
Master! Shiliu has been utterly doomed by you!
The backlash from the array, combined with the curse of the Fate-Link Bird, resulted in the Fate-Link Curse now etched on both their wrists.
“You’re saying that I—I have to share life and death with a useless Taoist like you?”
The moon drew closer, hanging low over the mountain peaks, feeling inexplicably oppressive and eerie. The night wind was sharp as a knife, scattering the shadowy outline of the youth sketched by the moonlight. His hair, tied with a red cord, whipped about madly in the fierce wind, faintly resembling the wild, fine tentacles of a frenzied beast.
In her heart, Shiliu was terrified. Someone so capricious and clearly unbound by any concept of life or death, backed by ready crossbows and countless elite soldiers—their dozen or so people stood no chance of resistance.
The mark on her wrist was both her death warrant and her lifeline.
“If you don’t believe me, you can test it. But if I feel pain, so will you. If I die, you will certainly perish as well.”
She wasn’t sure where this courage came from—perhaps from a lifetime of learning how to bluff—but her words sounded resolute and quite convincing.
“So you’re trying to extort me?”
The youth didn’t get angry. Instead, a faint smile touched his lips, followed by a shift in his gaze, as if he were looking at a foolish and reckless prey.
“What a pity. Even if that were true, there are still so many people behind you for me to kill to my heart’s content. Should I slice the flesh off piece by piece, drain them of their blood, then turn it all into food and make you eat it bite by bite? I can take my time experimenting.”
His rosy lips curved, revealing a glimpse of gleaming white teeth—small and sharp, perfectly suited for tearing through the skin and flesh of prey.
“Oh, and don’t think you can threaten me by killing yourself. Whether it’s tying you up with soft cloth day and night or imprisoning you in a dark room forever without light, there are ways. It won’t affect my fate in the slightest.”
“Torturing people doesn’t always require bloodshed. Those are crude methods.”
There was even a hint of pride in his voice, as if he disdained ordinary means. His tone was calm and casual, yet Shiliu somehow knew—every word he said was true.
A shiver ran up her spine, a complex mix of fear and primal instinct. It felt as if a fine, celestial fire had suddenly pierced her vertebrae. Even the most foolish trapped beast would desperately seek survival at a time like this.
“The Fate-Link Curse can be broken!” she finally blurted out, saying what the youth wanted to hear.
The youth seemed to have expected this. A smile bloomed on his lips, warm like a spring scene, yet it only felt more chilling in this eerie night.
“Good. That’s more like it.” He spoke as if coaxing a praise to a hound that had finally learned to fetch a ball.
“But can you promise me that if it’s broken, you’ll spare our lives and never come after us again?” Shiliu looked at him and asked seriously.
“Do you think you have any room to bargain?” he asked, amused.
“Of course I do. In your eyes, I’m worthless and you’re noble. Why would you exchange the moon in the sky for a bubble in a well?”
But the youth had no patience for such talk. His eyelashes flickered, as if an idea had struck him. With a smile, he said, “Fine. But I can only promise you half. Either I spare you, or I spare the people behind you. You choose.”
He enjoyed watching trapped beasts struggle. That was why he had pursued them all this way without giving up.
Shiliu fell into genuine anguish. She was only Shiliu. There were so many delicious foods she hadn’t eaten, so many places she hadn’t seen. This was the farthest she had traveled since descending the mountain. She hadn’t lived enough.
She agonized for a long time before finally speaking.
“Spare them.”
With this death warrant as her lifeline, she at least had a sliver of hope. The fire was singeing her eyebrows—she could only deal with the immediate crisis and take one step at a time.
“Good. No regrets once the move is made.” The youth seemed ignited by interest. He dismounted and walked step by step toward her.
He shook his wrist, revealing the red cord tied around it and the faint line extending beneath it. With each step he took, Shiliu felt the air around her grow heavier.
He finally stopped in front of her. He looked young, but he was already quite tall—Shiliu only reached up to his nose.
Without lowering his head, he looked down coldly at Shiliu as if she were a caged bird. Then, moving like lightning, he used the red cord on his wrist to bind her hands together.
He took hold of the other end of the cord, remounted his horse, and began leading her along, stumbling behind the horse like a captured prey.
“Move out!” he ordered, giving He Chong and the others no time to react before leading his grand procession away, leaving only the lingering smoke from the torches, choking and unsettling.