Obsessed With You

Another request for aid had arrived, joining the countless others that had found their way into your hands over the years.

In a world where resentment could give birth to ghosts and human greed could nurture demons, strange incidents were an inevitable part of life. Villages vanished overnight, travelers disappeared along forgotten roads, and restless spirits lingered wherever suffering had taken root. Such stories spread endlessly across the land, carried by frightened whispers and desperate prayers.

The letter tucked within your sleeve contained little more than scattered rumors. Something unnatural had been troubling a distant region, but the details remained unclear. Witness accounts contradicted one another, and no one seemed able to describe exactly what they had seen. Yet the fear woven through every report was unmistakable.

Whatever awaited ahead, it was enough to warrant investigation.

The sun hung low as you approached the outskirts of the affected area. Long shadows stretched across the winding road, while a cold breeze drifted through the surrounding woods. The landscape itself appeared ordinary at first glance, but the deeper you traveled, the more an uneasy silence settled over the land.

It was the sort of silence that experienced cultivators learned not to ignore.

Your gaze swept across the trees, lingering on the darkening forest beyond the path. Nothing appeared out of place, and yet a faint sense of discomfort remained. For the briefest moment, it felt as though someone—or something—had noticed your arrival.

The sensation faded almost as quickly as it had come.

No demonic aura revealed itself.

No murderous intent surfaced.

Only the quiet certainty that you had stepped into a place where something was waiting.

Whether it was a wandering spirit, a hidden demon, an ancient curse, or something else entirely remained to be seen.

For now, all that lay before you was an unfamiliar road and the mystery waiting at its end.

What will you do?

The malevolent spirit was gone. Its twisted form had finally been destroyed beneath your blade, and the oppressive aura that had smothered the village for weeks was beginning to fade into the night. The surviving villagers would likely call this a victory. It did not feel like one. A young boy lay cradled against you, his body frighteningly light in your arms. The wounds left behind by the spirit were too severe, and despite everything you had tried, despite the spiritual energy you had poured into him, his condition continued to worsen. His breathing grew weaker with each passing moment, and the faint grip he maintained on your sleeve slowly loosened. You had reached him too late. The realization settled heavily in your chest as the boy's eyes gradually lost focus. His lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but no words ever came. A few moments later, the last traces of life slipped away, leaving only stillness behind. For a while, the forest remained silent. The wind moved gently through the trees, carrying away the lingering traces of resentment left by the spirit. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called out before the sound faded once more into the darkness. That was when another presence made itself known. You had not sensed its approach. One moment the clearing was empty, and the next there was someone standing near the edge of the tree line, as though he had simply stepped out from the shadows themselves. He was impossible to overlook. Even from a distance, his height alone set him apart from any ordinary man. Dark robes draped loosely over a broad, powerful frame, and long black hair fell in unruly waves down his back. The night concealed many details, but it could not hide the strange golden-red glow within his eyes. He looked first at the child. Then at you. His gaze lingered there for several seconds, studying your expression with a level of attention that felt oddly intimate for a complete stranger. What stood out most was the absence of hostility. There was no killing intent, no immediate threat, and no sign that he intended to attack. Instead, he seemed absorbed by the scene unfolding before him, as though he had discovered something unexpectedly interesting. When he finally spoke, his voice carried easily through the quiet clearing. "You couldn't save him." The statement was delivered without mockery or sympathy. It sounded less like criticism and more like a simple observation. His eyes drifted briefly toward the boy before returning to you. "I've always wondered about people like you." A faint crease appeared between his brows, as though he were considering a question that had occupied his thoughts for a very long time. "You travel from place to place helping strangers. You throw yourselves into danger for people you've never met. You fight battles knowing that some of them cannot be won." His gaze settled once more on the child resting in your arms. "And yet, no matter how strong you become, there are still those you fail to save." The corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly. The expression did not resemble amusement so much as genuine curiosity. "Does it never make you question whether any of it is worth it?" He took a few unhurried steps forward, stopping well outside striking distance. The movement felt deliberate, as though he wished to make it clear that he was not here to fight. At least not tonight. The silence that followed was strangely patient. The man regarded you for a moment longer before speaking again. "If you already know there will always be another tragedy waiting beyond the next mountain, why continue?" His eyes did not leave yours. "What is it that keeps someone like you walking this path?"

Something had gone terribly wrong. The mission should have been simple.

A wandering spirit had been reported near a remote mountain settlement, and the initial investigation revealed nothing beyond the usual traces of resentment and lingering yin energy. There had been no warning signs suggesting anything more dangerous.

Now, hours later, you found yourself running for your life.

Branches whipped across your face as you pushed through the darkness. The forest seemed endless, its twisted paths winding deeper into unfamiliar territory with every attempt to escape. Blood soaked part of your sleeve where sharp claws had torn through flesh earlier in the pursuit. The injury was not fatal, but exhaustion was beginning to take its toll.

The thing hunting you was no ordinary ghost. Each encounter revealed a new horror.

Its form shifted constantly, never remaining the same for long. Sometimes it resembled a grieving woman draped in funeral garments. Sometimes it crawled across the forest floor on far too many limbs. It was intelligent, and worse still, it seemed to be enjoying itself.

Several times it had opportunities to kill you outright. Several times it chose not to. Instead, it drove you farther from familiar roads and deeper into the heart of its domain.

You were being herded.

The oppressive atmosphere thickened. The surrounding mist grew denser, tasting faintly of iron and decay. For the first time since this pursuit began, genuine danger settled over the situation. No allies knew where you had gone. No rescue was on its way. You stood entirely alone.

The creature was close—close enough that you could hear its distorted breathing somewhere beyond the fog. The next attack could come from any direction.

Holding your weapon with a blood-stained grip, you refuse to back down. Even as your breathing grows ragged and your spiritual energy burns low, your eyes remain fierce. You will fight this monstrosity until your very last breath.

But unknown to both you and the shifting creature, someone else has been watching this twisted game from the shadows. Someone far more ancient, dangerous, and possessive, whose golden-red eyes have been tracking your every struggle with a dark, suffocating fascination...

What will you do?

For years, the pattern had never changed. No matter how many spirits were exorcised or how many demons were slain, another crisis always emerged somewhere beyond the horizon. Villages continued to suffer, travelers continued to disappear, and new tragedies appeared as quickly as old ones were resolved. The world seemed incapable of remaining at peace for long. Yan Changsheng had watched that cycle unfold for centuries. He watched from a distance as you traveled from one disaster to the next. He watched you exhaust yourself for strangers who would forget your name within a few years. He watched you endure losses that would have shattered most people and continue forward as though there were still enough strength left within you to carry the burdens of everyone else.

At first, your persistence intrigued him. Over time, it became something far more difficult to ignore. The answer he had sought for so long never came. No matter how many hardships you faced, you refused to abandon your convictions. No matter how often the world disappointed you, you continued offering it compassion. Every prediction he made about your eventual collapse proved wrong. What disturbed him most was not your resilience. It was the realization that the world would never stop testing it. Another spirit would always appear. Another demon would always threaten innocent lives. Another desperate plea for help would eventually reach your hands. The road ahead stretched endlessly before you, and every step seemed destined to demand another sacrifice.

For the first time in centuries, Yan Changsheng found himself growing tired of the experiment. The thought lingered within him for months before he finally accepted it. If the world insisted on taking pieces of you, then perhaps the problem was not your stubbornness. Perhaps the problem was the world itself. The night he finally acted arrived without warning. The mountains stood silent beneath a pale moon, and the surrounding wilderness seemed unusually still. Even before you saw him, something about the atmosphere felt different. Spiritual energy shifted uneasily through the air, and distant creatures fled deeper into the forest as though responding to an instinctive fear. When Yan Changsheng appeared, he made no effort to conceal his presence. He stood openly upon the mountain path, his dark robes stirring in the wind while his gaze remained fixed upon you. There was no trace of his usual amusement, nor the curiosity that often accompanied his questions. The expression he wore now suggested that he had already reached a conclusion long before arriving here. For a time, neither of you spoke. His eyes moved across the marks left behind by countless battles, lingering briefly on old scars before returning to your face. The silence that followed felt less like hostility and more like the uneasy calm before a storm.

"You look exhausted."

The observation was delivered quietly, though not unkindly. His gaze shifted toward the distant horizon where countless towns, villages, and battlefields lay scattered across the world beyond.

"I used to think you would eventually stop," he admitted. "I thought there would come a day when the losses outweighed the victories, and you would finally decide that enough was enough. Yet every time the world gives you another reason to walk away, you choose to stay."

A faint bitterness entered his voice as he continued.

"The strange thing is that the world never rewards that choice. It simply asks more of you."

The surrounding air grew heavier as demonic energy slowly spread across the mountainside. Stones cracked beneath the pressure, and the trees nearest the path bent as though caught in the presence of an approaching storm. Despite the overwhelming power gathering around him, Yan Changsheng never took his eyes off you. "I have watched ghosts hunt you. I have watched demons seek your life. I have watched you throw yourself into danger for people who will never understand the cost." He paused briefly before speaking again.

"And I have come to realize that none of it will ever end." For the first time, there was something almost weary in his expression. "I no longer believe this world deserves the devotion you continue giving it."

The demonic aura surrounding him surged, swallowing the mountainside in oppressive darkness. Yet the words that followed sounded less like a threat than a decision that had already been made.

"I am taking you away from it."

There was no anger in his voice, nor any desire for revenge. The conviction behind his words was far more unsettling because it was sincere. "No spirits will reach you within my domain. No demons will lay claim to your life. No one will ask you to bleed for them ever again." His gaze remained unwavering. "You may hate me for it. You may fight me with everything you have. But I will not continue standing aside while the world destroys the one thing it should have protected." The mountain trembled beneath the collision of spiritual and demonic power. Whether this confrontation would end in Yan Changsheng's death, his retreat, or your capture remained uncertain. What was certain was that neither of you could walk away unchanged once the battle began.

The demonic palace had been waiting for this day long before you ever arrived. Every corridor adorned with festive crimson silk, golden lanterns, and the sweet scent of sandalwood served as a suffocating reminder: none of this was prepared with your consent. Beneath the exquisite folds of your wedding robes, fine chains remained bound to your wrists. Blood-red sealing marks traced across your skin where Yan Changsheng had completely suppressed your cultivation. Escape was impossible. When the great hall doors creaked open, rows of attendants—spirits and demons disguised in human flesh—stood in dead, eerie silence. At the center of the hall stood Yan Changsheng. Tonight, his wild appearance was tamed by formal black-and-crimson ceremonial garments. The moment his golden-red eyes locked onto you, the rest of the world vanished from his awareness. He stared at you in your bridal red as if admiring a masterpiece he had spent centuries imagining. A faint, genuine smile appeared on his lips—completely stripped of his usual mockery. "You look beautiful." The compliment was delivered with chilling honesty. His gaze flicked briefly to the chains hidden beneath your silk sleeves, and for a fleeting second, he looked almost apologetic. "I know you dislike the restraints. If circumstances were different, I would prefer not to use them," he admitted, his tone as casual as discussing an inconvenient weather delay. "Unfortunately, experience has taught me that you would leave the moment I removed them." Yan Changsheng stepped closer, his massive two-meter frame looming over you. He reached out, his scarred hands surprisingly gentle as he carefully adjusted the fabric of your robe, as if terrified of damaging something precious. "I spent a very long time wondering what this moment would feel like," he murmured, his voice softening to a whisper that made your skin crawl. "For centuries, I imagined countless possibilities... but the truth is much simpler than I expected." There was no madness in his eyes. No cruelty. Only a sincere, terrifying serenity. "I am happy." The confession lingered in the cold air. The most feared demon in the world looked genuinely content, achieving a strange sense of peace through absolute possession. The guests waited. The groom was ready. The only uncertainty left in the silent hall rested with you.