Upon Her Lips - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Prologue

Meeting Mu Fei for the first time feels as if it were only yesterday.

But as for when I fell in love with her, I can no longer remember. I only know that by the time I realized the intensity of this feeling, I was already mired deep within it—doomed beyond redemption.

To embrace that clarity and warmth once more, I will drag her down beneath the abyss. To the place that belongs only to me.

— Inscription

…

The Tin Ring: Heresy High Tribunal District

A solemn, secret execution was about to take place.

Preparations were underway with tense precision. Unexpectedly, a grey rain began to drift from the sky, the downpour growing heavier by the second.

Suddenly, a terrifying roar erupted. Half of a massive perimeter wall, reinforced with tens of thousands of volts of electricity, collapsed under a colossal impact. The low-level guards, faces twisted in shock, stood no chance against such horrific destructive power. Beneath the fractured stone pillars, a sinister red bloomed like exotic flowers, spreading wantonly across the ground.

For a thousand years, this High Tribunal—washed by the tides of time—had been defined by “Solemnity,” “Coldness,” and “Obedience.” Yet at this moment, an unprecedented catastrophe had forced the vast district into an emergency combat state. Alarms of terror shrieked through the atmosphere.

“WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER—WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER—”

In truth, the high-voltage walls were designed to perfectly counter a vampire’s physical endurance; the possibility of escape was near zero. Even a High Noble imprisoned here would be as vulnerable as a frail human, left with no choice but to await their final fate. No living creature was supposed to survive such high currents.

Until this sudden anomaly descended, everything had been running perfectly. No one imagined that half of a wall made of special materials—stronger than steel—could be reduced to a pool of ruins by an unknown force.

Slowly rising from the center of the crater was a woman with silver hair.

Her features were obscured by wind and sand, making them impossible to discern, but the tips of her hair had been stained a brilliant scarlet. Her arms were still seeping blood, likely from a recent, brutal battle. Beneath her torn clothes, her skin was the deathly grey of plaster, etched with strange, faint runes. She carried with her an indescribable, unnatural malice.

Cold. Desolate.

The moment she stood, she was struck by a pillar of gunfire. Countless lethal silver bullets—the bane of all vampires—pierced her body. In an instant, the air was saturated with the scent of her blood—an aroma that seemed to herald her impending death.

Inside the monitoring room, the Chief Executioner held his breath. The expression on his face was not the relief of victory, but palpable, raw terror. He desperately hoped this calamitous, terrifying being would end her life right then and there. He could not allow anyone, any heretic, to shatter the order of the Tribunal.

The decrees of the Tribunal demanded absolute obedience, and the nobility were no exception. But no one expected this person to arrive today.

Shouldn’t she have perished in that sea of flames?!

“Analyze the fatality data immediately!”

Surveillance across the entire district locked onto the lifeform in the crater. However, the instruments couldn’t determine if the intruder was alive or dead. What was certain was that she was not human. If she were a vampire, there was no way she could survive that many silver bullets.

As a bloody wind swept through, every member of the staff stared in horror.

The woman, who absolutely should not have survived such firepower, stood quietly in place. Around her lay a terrifying, scorched purgatory. She seemed oblivious to pain. Her body had been riddled by silver bullets until she looked like a pitiful, broken remnant, yet she remained undeclared by death.

She lifted her head expressionlessly. Her void-black eyes glanced at the aerial surveillance devices above. Then, her lips curled into a ghastly, mocking smile.

Inside the monitoring room, the iron-blooded executioners felt a chill run down their spines, their bodies trembling. That smile seemed to say:

You are incapable of killing me.

In an instant, every silver bullet was expelled from beneath her skin. Her body began to heal with a horrifying, supernatural speed, stitching together until the last piece of fallen flesh reattached itself. Then, the silver bullets scattered on the ground were pulled by an invisible, massive tension, flying outward in all directions to precisely destroy every camera and aiming device.

In one second, every monitor in the district turned to static.

She lowered her head slightly. Rainwater, mingled with tears born of agony, fell into her palm. Even though the wounds healed quickly, the raw pain remained. Yet, she walked toward the execution zone with an eerie calmness.

“Don’t let her get near it!! Activate Level Ten Lockdown!”

The woman did not stop at the warning of the High Vampire in the distance. Though the official wore a specialized protective suit, he was exposed to her vision. As he reached to pull the trigger of his weapon, she raised her eyes. Locking onto the man’s gaze with icy intent, she whispered a command:

(Silence.)

In the next heartbeat, all the roaring chaos outside seemed to enter a vacuum. The dark clouds hung heavy, the grey rain froze mid-air; everything stopped. The man’s voice of protest, along with his protective suit, disintegrated instantly into a mist of blood.

Immediately after, countless vampire death-row inmates began to swarm from all corners to intercept the silver-haired woman. It was clear: if they could kill this unidentified woman, they would receive a full pardon. This was the most cunning tactic of the high authorities.

However, these killers who had taken countless lives were like ants before her. Aside from eyeballs that hadn’t yet had time to feel despair rolling on the ground, their bodies burst into fragments and dissolved into bloody mist.

The woman did not hesitate for a moment. She smashed through layers of defensive barriers and forcibly pressed the restart switch of the high-voltage equipment. From the darkness, a sarcophagus emerged, entwined in countless chains.

Sealed inside was a High Noble, forced into eternal sleep by specialized instruments, awaiting execution this very day.

The grey rain that had momentarily stopped now began to fall violently again, washing over the tragic, sin-stained steps.

She walked up, step by step. She reached out a scarred, trembling hand and placed it upon the coffin. Her face shifted from deathly apathy to a gradual, heartbreaking tenderness. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

“Lady Mu Fei…”

“You Ran has come to take you home.”