My Genesis Harem System in a Cultivation World

Xu Tianlong kept Xiao Ruoxue’s cold fingers wrapped in his grip as they moved through the dark. The blue light from the Pavilion’s formation chamber was gone, but Lin had conjured a small flame at her palm. It threw shivering shadows against the wet stone. Feng Lianzhu walked behind them, her borrowed cloak pulled tight, her breathing low and even. The 4 guards brought up the rear, hands on their weapons.

Ruoxue stumbled. Her bare feet caught on a stone, and she pitched forward with a sharp, airless gasp. Xu caught her before she hit the ground, his other arm sliding around her waist. She weighed almost nothing.

’Weeks. Maybe months. They’d kept her in that cage and fed her just enough to keep her breathing.’

"Easy," he said. "We’re almost out."

She didn’t answer. Her storm-gray eyes were open but unfocused, and her lips moved now and then, like she was trying to remember a word that wouldn’t come.

Behind them, something clattered deep in the tunnel.

CRACK.

The sound echoed between narrow walls. Lin’s flame flickered. She turned, her free hand already moving to her sword.

"They know we’re here," Feng said quietly. "That wasn’t stone settling."

"Move." Xu didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The 4 guards closed formation around them, and the group pressed forward through the dark.

The tunnel branched 2 more times. Feng pointed each time, her voice clipped. At the second junction, Xu caught the faint stink of blood and old rot. The walls here were marked with black crescent moons, painted in a pattern that felt too deliberate to be decoration.

They marked this route. They always meant to come back.

2 rats scurried across their path. Lin didn’t flinch. She kicked one aside with the toe of her boot.

THUMP.

The passage tilted upward. Xu felt the change in the air first, colder but cleaner. The smell of wet stone gave way to the smell of ash and rain. The collapsed warehouse was close.

He tightened his grip on Ruoxue. "Almost there. Stay awake."

She turned her head toward him. Her silver hair slid across her shoulder, and in the dim light, her eyes finally sharpened. For 1 heartbeat, she wasn’t a half-dead prisoner. She was something else. Something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Then the moment passed. Her head dropped against his shoulder. Her breath came shallow and fast.

Lin pushed the rusted grate aside. They climbed out 1 by 1 into the wreckage of the old market district. The rain had stopped. The sky above was black, no moon, no stars. The only light came from a few distant watchfires and the faint glow of Lin’s palm.

"She needs a physician," Lin said. "Qing’er is waiting at the compound, but if she’s hurt worse than we thought..."

"She’ll make it." Xu looked down at Ruoxue. "We didn’t come this far to lose her now."

He started toward the compound, Ruoxue half-carried against his side. The guards moved ahead, clearing the street. Feng Lianzhu lingered at the tunnel entrance, staring back into the dark.

"Feng Lianzhu."

She didn’t turn.

"Feng Lianzhu."

Her shoulders stiffened. "I’m coming." But she didn’t move. Her emerald eyes were fixed on the black hole they’d just climbed out of.

Xu’s voice dropped. "What?"

"I thought I saw something." She turned away from the tunnel and walked toward him, her face unreadable. "Never mind."

They made it 3 blocks before Ruoxue went rigid.

Her whole body jerked, like a limb waking from numbness. Her fingers curled into Xu’s tunic. Her lips pulled back from her teeth.

"Ruoxue?"

Her eyes snapped open. Not the distant, wounded girl from the cage. This was someone else looking out. A predator.

She moved.

CRACK.

Her palm struck his chest before he could react. The blow wasn’t strong enough to break bone, but it threw him off balance. His grip on her tore free. He hit the wet stone and rolled, coming up with his fists raised.

Ruoxue stood in the middle of the street, swaying but upright. Silver hair whipped around her pale face like storm-driven threads. Her gray eyes were wide, bright, utterly wrong.

"Stay back," she whispered. "Don’t touch me."

"You’re safe," Xu said. "We pulled you out of the Pavilion’s cage. We’re not your enemies."

"You lie." Her voice cracked. "You all lie. You smell like them."

"Smell like who?"

"Black Moon." She spat the words like a curse. Her hands came up, and the air around them turned cold. Not Lin’s controlled winter chill. This was something older. Wilder. The light from Lin’s flame bent toward Ruoxue, like it was being drawn into her shadow.

Lin stepped forward. "Put your hands down. We don’t want to fight you."

Ruoxue didn’t even look at her. Her eyes stayed locked on Xu.

CRACK.

She was fast. Faster than anything Xu had faced since waking in this body. He brought his arms up to block, Iron Bone Fist flaring through his meridians, but the impact still shook him to the spine. Her palm met his forearms, and for a second he thought the bones would snap.

’Foundation Establishment. It has to be. No one in Qi Condensation hits like that.’

He skidded backward, boots scraping stone. His arms throbbed. The taste of copper flooded his mouth.

Ruoxue didn’t press the attack. She stood there, trembling, her chest heaving. A thin line of blood ran from the corner of her lips. Then another. It dripped down her chin and onto the pale skin of her throat.

"Stay back," she said again, but this time the words slurred. Her eyes lost focus. Her legs buckled.

Xu moved before she hit the ground.

He caught her under the arms, lowering her to the wet street. Her body convulsed once, then went still. Blood kept seeping from her mouth, dark and thin in the faint light.

"She’s dying," Lin said.

"No." Xu pressed 2 fingers to her neck. The pulse was there, weak and irregular, but there. "She pushed whatever qi she had left into that attack. Her body couldn’t take it."

Feng Lianzhu approached slowly, her cloak dragging across the stone. She stopped a pace away and looked down at the unconscious woman. Her face, already pale, had gone the color of ash.

"I’ve seen her before," Feng said.

Xu looked up. "Where?"

"Not in person. In a portrait. My father kept it hidden in his study." Feng’s voice was barely a whisper. "The Pavilion called her the lost one. The Silver Prisoner. They said she was a legend even before they caught her."

"What legend?"

Feng met his eyes. "The Moonlit Wraith. A cultivator who slaughtered an entire Pavilion outpost in the western provinces. Alone. Years ago. The organization put a price on her head that made empires pay attention." She paused. "And somehow, they caught her anyway."

Xu lifted Ruoxue in his arms. She was lighter than she had any right to be.

"Then we’re not letting her die in the street."

He turned and started toward the compound. Lin fell into step beside him, her sword half-drawn, her eyes scanning the rooftops. Feng walked a pace behind, silent. The 4 guards formed a loose perimeter, weapons out.

The city was empty around them. Thousand Pines held its breath. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were still there, low and heavy, promising another storm.

They passed through the compound gates just as the first light of dawn began to bleed across the eastern wall. Qing’er was waiting at the main hall with a medical kit and a face pale from worry. Her eyes went wide when she saw the silver-haired woman in Xu’s arms.

"Young Master, who..."

"Later. We need a bed. Clean water. Bandages. And whatever you have for internal injuries."

Qing’er nodded once, her servant’s instincts taking over. She led them inside.

Xu laid Ruoxue on the cot in the makeshift infirmary. Her breathing was still shallow, but her pulse had steadied. The blood on her lips was drying. Qing’er pressed a damp cloth to the corner of her mouth and began checking for wounds, her small hands moving with practiced efficiency.

"Her meridians are a mess," Qing’er said after a moment. "Whatever they did to her in that place, it’s been eating at her for a long time. She needs rest. Real rest. And a physician who knows more than I do."

"Can you stabilize her?"

"I can try." Qing’er reached for a small jar of green paste. "The Life Sap. I don’t know if it’ll be enough, but it should slow the damage."

Xu stepped back to give her room. Lin was at the window, watching the courtyard. Feng stood near the door, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the unconscious woman on the cot.

"The Pavilion will know we took her," Feng said. "They won’t stop until they get her back. Or until she’s dead."

"Then we need to be ready." Xu looked at Ruoxue’s pale face, at the slow rise and fall of her chest. "And we need to know why they wanted her so badly."

He turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Lin asked.

"To the wine cellar. Our other guests have been waiting long enough."

The corridor outside the infirmary was dark and cold. The first rays of dawn hadn’t reached this part of the compound yet. Xu walked with slow, deliberate steps, the echo of his boots loud in the silence.

Behind him, soft footsteps followed.

Feng Lianzhu.

"You’re going alone," she said.

"I am."

"The Intermediary has been down there for days. He’ll be expecting you."

"Good." Xu didn’t look back. "Let him expect. I’ve been waiting to have this conversation since the day I woke up with poison in my veins."

He stopped at the cellar door and pulled it open. The smell of damp stone and old wine drifted up from below.

"Stay up here," he said.

He stepped into the dark, the wine cellar door closed behind him with a soft, final click. And somewhere in the dark below, the Intermediary began to laugh.

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