Ran Jiuyi’s Past

For Ran Jiu’yi five years ago, life was a story of triumph over poverty. She had a friend who was like a sister to her, a career worth fighting for, and everything seemed to be trending toward a bright future.

‘If only it could stay like this forever.’ That was her only wish.

But fate is rarely so kind. That happiness was about to be shattered, and Ran Jiu’yi was destined to become the woman she is today.

Back at the Suzuki main house, Suzuki Ritsu—the current head—was profoundly dissatisfied with the latest generation of the family. Over the course of a year, a dozen infants had been born. These children were produced according to Ritsu’s “breeding program,” birthed by direct bloodline females with the highest concentration of fox demon blood. Theoretically, their purity should have been equal to or higher than their parents.

The results, however, were cold and disappointing. Testing showed that the bloodline concentration hadn’t risen; it had plummeted. Out of a dozen babies, only three barely reached the previous generation’s average. The weakest among them didn’t even possess a third of that level.

Losing all reason in a fit of rage, Suzuki Ritsu personally executed the testing staff that very day. Obsessive to the point of madness, he refused to believe his methods were flawed. Instead, he convinced himself that the direct bloodline members were deceiving him by having children with outsiders. To solve this imaginary problem, he made a horrific decree: all future children would be sired by him—the one with the purest blood—with every female in the main house.

This caused a violent backlash within the family. The previous plan was bad enough, but this was an utter violation of nature. But protests were futile. In the Suzuki family, Ritsu was the absolute ruler. His word was law; the only options were obedience or death. After a few public executions to “scare the monkeys,” the rest of the family succumbed. To survive, they sent every direct-line female to Ritsu’s chambers.

Even this wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more efficiency and more suitable females. That was when he remembered Suzuki Tetsuya, who had fled the family a year ago.

A few days later, Ran Jiu’yi received a new “cooperation invitation.” Assuming it was another corporate endorsement for the Nine-Tailed Fox Squad, she headed to the meeting place without a second thought.

The location was a quiet, sprawling mansion on the outskirts of the city. Though she thought she knew the city well, she had no memory of this estate. She brushed off the anomaly, thinking she just hadn’t noticed it before.

Upon entering the central hall, she met her host: a man in a traditional kimono who looked at least sixty. His face was aged, but his body was unnaturally robust; she could see the hard outlines of muscle through his silk robes. He was a superhuman—and a powerful one.

Four bodyguards in suits stood at the corners of the room. As soon as Ran Jiu’yi entered, they locked the doors.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man said before she could even sit. “I am Suzuki Ritsu, head of the Suzuki family and grandfather to Tetsuya. I invited you here to inform my granddaughter that I am taking her back.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ran Jiu’yi refused flatly. “Tetsuya told me all about you. She left the family long ago; she has no reason to return.”

At her words, the four guards closed in, cutting off all exits.

“You came to me instead of her because you know she’d never go with you,” Ran Jiu’yi said, her voice steady despite the odds. “The Nine-Tailed Fox Squad is government-registered. If you use force, it’ll be a scandal. So you lured me out alone to get rid of the ‘obstacle’ first?”

She sized up the guards. Their mana was dense; any one of them was a match for her. And then there was Ritsu. Tetsuya had once told her that Ritsu could wipe out their entire squad with a single finger. Realizing her chances of survival were slim, Ran Jiu’yi let her tongue loose: “You sick old bastard, making your own children breed while you—”

Before she could finish, her tongue was clamped between Ritsu’s fingers. In a blink—a speed she couldn’t even track—he was standing right in front of her. Simultaneously, the four guards pinned her limbs.

“Agagaga…”

With a slight squeeze of his fingers and the spray of hot blood, a pained wail caught in her throat. Ritsu smiled at her agony. “I told you, I am only here to notify my granddaughter. You are merely the notification. But first, you must learn to respect your elders.”

With a sudden, violent jerk, Suzuki Ritsu tore Ran Jiu’yi’s tongue out by the root.

Ran Jiu’yi vanished. No trace, no word. Suzuki Tetsuya searched for her like a madwoman, but found nothing.

Until one week later. Tetsuya found a body lying on her doorstep—barely clinging to life. It was a “lump of meat” that had once been Ran Jiu’yi.

Tetsuya rushed her to the hospital. After hours of emergency surgery, a grey-haired doctor pulled Tetsuya aside. He pointed toward the ICU window with a trembling hand.

“I’ve been a doctor for thirty years,” he whispered. “I have never seen anything like this. What I’m about to tell you is hard to hear.”

“Her body is covered in man-made trauma: blunt force, lacerations, burns, sprains. Almost all of her skin was peeled away. Her ribs were shattered—not broken, but ground into fragments. Her eyes, her tongue, her fingernails… all gone.”

The doctor held up an X-ray. “This is the most shocking part. Most of the major bones in her body were missing. Based on my experience, it’s as if… as if someone took a piece of boneless meat, crushed it, meticulously picked out every shard of bone, and then sewed the flesh back together. I’ve never seen a human survive this.”

Realizing how horrific he sounded, the doctor lowered his voice. “This is just my professional guess. I suggest you call the police, or find someone with ‘special abilities’ to help. We can treat the wounds, but we can’t heal the soul.”

Tetsuya didn’t say a word. She sat by the ICU window for nearly an entire day. She didn’t speak to her teammates or the nurses. She just watched Ran Jiu’yi. It wasn’t until the middle of the night, looking at the comatose girl, that Tetsuya’s grief and rage finally broke. She began to sob uncontrollably.

The next morning, Suzuki Tetsuya was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Meng Shan said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you relive this. It must be a nightmare to remember.”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault,” Ran Jiu’yi replied. “Besides, I’ve moved past it.”

To prove her point, she summoned a dozen Eclipse Needles and drove them all into her own right arm. She flexed her hand as they sat there. “See? Like this. I don’t care about pain anymore.”

Meng Shan shook his head. “In my eyes, that’s not ‘moving past it.’ But let’s leave that for now.”

“Oh, right,” Ran Jiu’yi added casually. “For the record, I’m still a virgin. They peeled my skin off on the first day, so they didn’t bother with that.”

Meng Shan choked. “…Why are you telling me that?”

“Why not? I know men care about that stuff. Don’t act all innocent.”

Meng Shan was speechless. “…I don’t even know what to say to you. Just… tell me what happened next.”

“Next? It took me a month to wake up, three months to stand, and six months to recover. My healing wasn’t as fast as it is now; if that happened today, I’d be fine in a week.”

Her expression darkened. “I could have looked for Tetsuya, but I was terrified. Those seven days of torture replayed in my head every time I closed my eyes. Every night, I dreamed of my body being torn and crushed. Even after I was discharged, I didn’t have the courage to find her. I knew where she’d gone—she’d gone home to face her family. And because I knew that, I stayed away.”

“I lived like a coward, hiding in my apartment, terrified that the Suzukis would come back for me. During that time, the Nine-Tailed Fox Squad was dismantled through the family’s influence. Without Tetsuya, without my teammates, I was completely alone.”

She paused, her voice turning cold. “And then, in the ninth month, I heard the news. Suzuki Tetsuya was dead.”