I've Never Seen Snow

Lin Xiaoman died in the ICU at the age of eight. Her last thought was: I haven't seen snow yet.

When she opened her eyes again, she had become a girl called "Feng Gui Seven" in a cultivation sect.

Seven gates, white walls and black tiles, an old nanny who steamed osmanthus cakes for her, and a black-robed record keeper who never spoke. She thought they were raising her to become an immortal.

Until she secretly read the silk book on the wooden shelf when she was seven.

Feng Gui One, died at three.

Feng Gui Two, died at five.

Feng Gui Three, died at nine, self-destructed.

Feng Gui Four, died at twelve, already sacrificed.

Feng Gui Five, tried to escape at seven, was caught, died three years later.

Feng Gui Six, soul shattered at four.

She was Feng Gui Seven.

The sect wasn't raising her to be a saint. They were raising her as kindling. They would raise her until she was fifteen, then burn her to replenish a hundred years' worth of soul fuel for the sect.

A creature called Di Lin lived in her sea of consciousness. It said, "Pretend. Pretend to be a saintly girl who knows nothing. Make them think you're slow to mature, steady, and maturing at just the right pace. When they put you on the pyre..."

The brush was alive. Shen Mo, the previous record keeper whose name appeared in the silk book, had been locked inside that brush for seventeen years. He passed her two words: Run.

Then he wrote: Don't run. Running makes you Feng Gui Five.

Lin Xiaoman had never lived past fifteen in either of her two lives.

This time, she was going to live until the day it snowed.

And she was going to drag everyone who burned her into the snow with her.