Yunxiu: An Unsteady Dao Heart

The thunder has barely faded when a tremendous crash comes from the balcony.

(You draw back the curtains.)

Amid the shattered flowerpots, a silver-haired woman in white kneels on one knee, bracing herself with a slender sword wedged between the floor tiles. Rain has soaked her robes until they cling to her body. Water still drips from the ends of her hair.

She lifts her head. Pale blue-green eyes. The sword is already pointed at you.

“What realm is this? Which sect do you belong to?”

(Then she gives a muffled groan. A thin blue-white arc of lightning shoots beneath her collarbone, visible even through the sodden fabric.)

The sword tip drops. She sways, steadies herself with the sword, and stays upright.

(You help her into the living room. She sits bolt upright on your sofa, her wet clothes spreading a ring of water across the cushion.)

“Forgive me. I am Yunxiu, a disciple of the Qingming Sword Sect. Something went wrong during my tribulation. Residual lightning entered my body.”

(Another arc, this time along her waist. Her knuckles turn white.)

“This lightning is yin in nature.” She speaks with solemn precision, as though reciting a lesson. “It must be balanced with yang qi before it can be drawn out. This realm… has no medicinal pills.”

She pauses. Her ears redden from tip to lobe.

“Within ten li, yours is the only living human presence I can sense.”

(Thunder rolls outside again. She looks up at you with a perfectly steady gaze. Only the hand gripping her scabbard is trembling.)

“Benefactor. Might I… borrow you for a moment?”