Chapter 1

In a time long, long ago, on a dark night—

Inside a small cabin, a lamp burned dimly.

A twelve-year-old girl knelt on the ground, her legs numb from kneeling for so long. Her beautiful face was a mix of fear and worry as she stared at a pair of embroidered shoes on the ground in front of her, shoes adorned with butterflies in flight, which she had sewn as a birthday gift for her mother.

A woman in her thirties sat in a chair, coldly watching the daughter kneeling before her. The standoff between mother and daughter had lasted for half an hour, and while the daughter remained silent, the mother could no longer contain her impatience.

"Do you truly refuse?"

The girl shivered but did not respond.

"Two hundred and fifty-six lives in Harris Town, do you consider their deaths meaningless?"

She clenched her fists, the dried sweat on her palms slowly becoming moist again, "The incident in Harris Town has been proven not to be his doing."

"Even if it wasn't him, who's to say he won't commit such inhumane acts in the future? These demons sustain themselves on the blood of humans and animals, posing a daily increasing threat. He shares their blood, and besides, he's not afraid of sunlight. If we don't kill him, how many innocent lives will suffer by his hands in the future, have you thought about that?"

"But, his mother is human, he is half-human! Maybe he won't—"

"Those not of our kind will have hearts that differ! Our Smith family has been exorcising demons and subduing evil for generations, eliminating harm for the world. Now that I have assumed the role of a female exorcist, I must eradicate evil without leniency. If you refuse to lead the way, I will lead people to storm in, even if it means setting fire to the mountains, he must die!" Seeing her daughter in tears, she softened her tone, "With you leading the way, we can ambush quietly, catching him off guard and allowing him to die without realizing, which would also be a mercy to him."

Death is death, what mercy is there to speak of?

Tears streamed down the girl's face as she watched her mother take out a piece of paper written in silver ink, bent down to lift her stiff arm beside her, and forced open her clenched fingers to stuff the paper into her hand.

The night deepened, the mountain winds howled, and the moonlight was clear.

She wore a thick coat, took a bundle, and with the silver-written paper in her bosom, left the Smith family's mountain stronghold. Her mother led one hundred and sixty black-clad women, fully armed, following at a distance.

One hundred and sixty people, including even those still learning the arts, her mother truly intended to put him to death.

She had a sudden idea, abandoning the path and turning into the forest. Her mother and the others didn't know the cave where he hid. She hoped to lose them by wandering aimlessly through the woods.

She ran desperately, naively hoping to delay the time, to give him a chance to escape.

The dense forest was dark and without light; she stumbled as she ran, her dress torn by tree branches. Only when she could no longer hear the footsteps following her did she emerge from the forest, discern her direction, and sprint towards the place only she and he knew.

From afar, she saw him.

He sat at the entrance of the cave, gazing at the moon above. His clothes were old and torn, revealing his pale skin underneath, which glowed faintly in the moonlight like a piece of white jade in a torn cloth.

Hearing her approach, he turned his head alertly, his green eyes flashing fiercely, but upon seeing her, the fierceness immediately disappeared, replaced by a genuine smile as he stood up to support her, gasping for breath.

"I thought you wouldn't come tonight." The fifteen-year-old boy, with his beautiful features and soft accent, did not seem like a native of the Central Plains. His green, luminous eyes reflected the moonlight, appearing both demonic and enchanting, yet showing a gentle color when looking at her.

"I... got held up." She steadied herself, listening to the surroundings, only the sound of the wind through the trees could be heard, it seemed she had lost her pursuers.

She opened her bundle, taking out a black cotton robe and a pair of black cloth boots, "For you."

He had never had clothes of his own, always wearing old clothes discarded by others. She had long wanted to make him new clothes, this was the first time, and perhaps the last.

"Did you make this yourself?" He was overjoyed, taking the soft new clothes.

She nodded, watching as he turned his back to her, removing his torn clothes to reveal his smooth, lean back.

When she had found him half a year ago, he was being pursued by a sorcerer, close to death. Now, his wounds had long healed, for he was half-demon, healing faster than humans, leaving no scars behind.

His mother was human, but his father was a demon known as a "vampire," immortal beings who lived in the night and fed on the blood of humans and animals. His pale skin and green eyes came from this lineage.

Vampires did not consider him one of their own, and humans feared his unusual appearance. Wherever he went, he was treated as a demon or monster, even though he could eat like a human and didn't need to live on blood. Sorcerers, upon seeing him, would still cry out "acting on behalf of Heaven" and seek to kill him swiftly.

His parents had died long ago, and he had been hiding everywhere for years, narrowly escaping death at the hands of sorcerers several times. The world was so vast, yet there was no place for him.

She gazed at his snow-white skin, beneath which lay countless scars and sorrows she could not see.

He put on the new clothes and shoes, which fit perfectly. His appearance was already handsome, and wearing this solemn black robe made him look even more distinguished.

He excitedly spun around a few times, noticing her staring at him, his cheeks slightly reddened as he smiled, "You made this black outfit, just like the thieves in the stories you told me. They wear black clothes and sneak into people's houses at night, unseen."

"Yes," she smiled faintly, "wearing this black, moving in the night, no one will see you, no one will bully you."

He paused, understanding her intention, and suddenly grasped her soft hands, his eyes welling up.

"Elisa, Elisa," he murmured, his voice laden with deep affection, "Because of you, I believe that there is truly joy and happiness in this world."

His face radiated contentment and joy, but her heart ached to hear it.

"I also have something for you." He took out a bracelet, made of thin vines strung with wooden beads and pebbles, showing considerable ingenuity, crafted from materials he picked up in the mountains.

He tied the bracelet around her wrist, shyly saying, "I have no money to buy a bracelet, so I made this from little stones and branches. It's not very well made."

"It's very well made," she touched the simple bracelet, smiling, "I like it."

He smiled shyly, his pale cheeks faintly blushing, wanting to say something but momentarily at a loss for words, so he just smiled foolishly at her beautiful face, "You... liking it is good."