Chapter 128: Soul Ties

There were strange trinkets hanging from the ceiling, casting uneven shadows across the space. Ru Yi gaze moved slowly over the interior before stopping on the objects lining the walls and shelves.

Small skulls polished and adorned with beads and thread, arranged in ways that made them feel less like decoration and more like silent observers.

"Sit," the woman instructed, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Ru Yi obeyed, lowering herself onto the seat indicated while the woman moved around her. Her presence was oddly swift and deliberate before she settled across from her.

Up close, her eyes seemed even sharper, their brightness almost unnatural as they focused on Ru Yi with unsettling intensity.

"What is your name?" the woman asked, closing her eyes briefly.

"Ru Yi," she replied. Her voice was steady despite the unease curling in her stomach.

The woman smiled, as if savoring something unspoken. "That is not your real name, but it will do."

Ru Yi’s eyebrows creased in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

The old woman didn’t answer, she only reached for Ru Yi’s hands again. Her touch was just as cold before. "Let us see what fate has already decided for you."

Her fingers closed firmly around Ru Yi’s palms, and in that moment, Ru Yi felt a quiet certainty settle over her that she had stepped into something far deeper than she had intended.

Her thumb pressed lightly against the center of Ru Yi’s palm, and for a moment neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched long enough to make the faint clinking of the skull ornaments overhead seem louder than it should have been.

Ru Yi tried to steady her breathing, her gaze drifting briefly to the small carvings lining the walls before returning to the woman’s face.

She was met with that same sharp look that made it feel like she had seen everything Ru Yi was and everything she was trying not to be.

"You’re not from this world," the woman finally spoke. She sounded certain, like she was stating something obvious rather than impossible.

Ru Yi’s face morphed into confusion. "I— of course I am." Her voice lacked the conviction that she wanted to give.

The woman hummed softly, the sound almost amused as she tilted her head. "No." Her grip tightened slightly. "This body stands here, yes. But you...you do not belong to it."

A faint unease crept up Ru Yi’s spine, her fingers twitching slightly in the woman’s grasp. "I don’t understand what you mean."

The woman didn’t answer immediately. Her thumb pressed harder, tracing slow deliberate paths across her skin as if reading lines that were not visible.

"There is no soul here," she murmured.

The words were quiet, almost absent-minded in their delivery, but the struck with a force that made Ru Yi flinch.

"No soul?" Ru Yi repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "That doesn’t make any sense.

"A body without a soul, walking where it should not walk, breathing where it should not breathe..." The woman’s lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth in her expression.

Ru Yi shook her head, instinctive denial rising before she could stop it. "That’s not possible."

"And yet, here you are." The woman spoke softly. "You carry no soul, and that is because you carry something else in its place."

Ru Yi’s pulse quickened. "What does that mean?"

The woman leaned in, her eyes sharpening. "It means you’re not meant to exist among them. And because you exist where you should not, you will bring ruin to those who stand closest to you."

A chill ran through Ru Yi, her thoughts stumbling over themselves as she tried to make sense of the words.

Without warning the image of her nightmare surged forward in her mind—the vivid and unrelenting sight of the triplets lying motionless before her.

Her hands trembled in the woman’s grasp. "No," she whispered, though whether she was denying the woman or the memory itself, she did not know.

The woman’s gaze did not waver. "You have seen it," she said. It wasn’t a question.

Ru Yi’s lips parted, but no words came, the image still lingering at the edges of her mind. It refused to fade.

"You are bound to the path that leads there,: the woman continued.

Ru Yi shook her head again, more urgently this time. "No, it was just a dream." The words felt hollow even to her own ears.

"Dreams," the woman said softly. "Are often kinder than the truth. There is more..." her tone shifted, becoming more contemplative as her grip adjusted.

Her fingers pressed into different points along Ru Yi’s hand.

"A tether," she murmured. "Five threads...no. Five lives, woven into yours."

Ru Yi’s confusion cut through the haze of fear. "Five?"

The woman nodded faintly. "Five women. Bound to you by something older than this body, older than this life."

Ru Yi’s voice was unsteady. "I have no idea of what you’re talking about."

"Karma," she replied simply. "A debt carried across lifetimes, waiting to be repaid."

Ru Yi stared at her, the words making less sense the more she tried to understand them. "I’ve never met—"

"You have," the woman interrupted gently, her gaze intent. "You will."

The idea lingered in Ru Yi’s chest, making her feel uneasy. "There’s something inside me," she confessed quietly. "A shadow."

Ru Yi swallowed, her throat going dry. "It feels like it’s watching. Like it’s a part of me, but not really me. Sometimes it feels like it’s trying to come through."

The woman listened without interruption.

"Can you tell me what it is?"

For a moment, the woman said nothing. Then she smiled slowly. "That is you."

Ru Yi froze, the words settling over her like a weight she could not shake. "No. It doesn’t feel like me."

"It does not feel like you," the woman agreed, "because you are not whole."

Her fingers tightened around Ru Yi’s hands, anchoring her in place. "What you call a shadow is not something foreign. It is what remains of what should be here." She pointed at Ru Yi’s chest. "Your true self."