the multi

Chapter 49: Standard Merchandiser Bullying

Justice flows like water—it may be delayed, but it cannot be denied. Those who think themselves clever enough to trap others often find themselves caught in webs of their own making.

— Master Wu Zhi, Commander of Ten Thousand

Xiulan stared at the collection device overflowing with dawn serpent scales. The destroyed cargo harnesses left them with no choice but to carry it together. Scales spilled over the edges despite the hastily secured tarp, leaving a glowing trail that marked their descent from the valley.

"Careful with the next step." Feng Yu braced against the device's weight.

Xiulan's muscles burned as they coordinated their movements. "Ready." She slid the device to the ledge's edge.

The metal groaned as Feng Yu supported the full weight. Xiulan leapt down to the next outcropping, raising her arms. "Now."

They repeated the exhausting dance down countless ledges. Each movement drained more qi from Xiulan's meridians. The shorter ledges near the bottom proved easier to navigate, though one of them still needed to descend first each time.

When Fershere's distant outline finally emerged through the morning haze, Xiulan's legs trembled. "Let's rest." She sank onto a boulder.

The quiet mountain air hummed with qi—different from the valley's resonance. Xiulan closed her eyes, replenishing her depleted dantian while noting how the background energy had shifted.

Feng Yu had been right about the different regions having different frequencies. She had missed the hard dividing line, though. Lifting had taken too much concentration.

"We should move." Feng Yu stood, brushing dirt from her robes. "Others will want to see what we collected."

Xiulan nodded and pushed herself up. The dirt road leading to the abandoned gold mine beckoned ahead. "Should we retrieve the wagon at the gate?"

"One guards the scales while the other fetches it." Feng Yu adjusted her grip on the device. "We can't leave these unattended."

"Agreed." Xiulan repositioned herself and they both lifted.

The descent proved less treacherous on the gentle slope, though Xiulan's arms burned between every pulse of qi. Sweat dampened her robes as she matched Feng Yu's careful steps.

A wagon rattled into view, kicking up dust as it approached. Xiulan squinted at the familiar figures—her two drivers waved from atop the bench. She stopped, signaling Feng Yu to set down their burden.

"How did you know to come?" Xiulan brushed dirt from her hands.

The lead driver straightened his worn leather vest. "We took shifts at the gate, Miss Lin. Soon as we spotted you, we readied everything and rode out."

"That's remarkably helpful." Feng Yu stretched her shoulders.

Xiulan laughed. "Good initiative indeed."

"You've treated us well, Miss Lin." The driver scratched his stubbled chin. "The pay and tips have been generous. We considered hiring extra hands but weren't certain you'd approve?"

"This is perfect." Xiulan moved to the wagon's side. "We can manage the loading ourselves."

Together, they hoisted the device onto the wooden bed. Xiulan secured it with hemp ropes while Feng Yu tested the knots. After stowing their bulging travel packs, Xiulan sank onto the wide of the wagon and exhaled deeply. Feng Yu scaled the wagon with practiced grace, settling cross-legged atop the tarp-covered scales.

"Why do you always like the high perch?" Xiulan tilted her head.

"Height enhances qi sensing range." Feng Yu adjusted her position. "Gives a better view of potential threats."

"That makes sense." Xiulan nodded.

The drivers clicked their tongues, turning the horses toward Fershere. The wagon wheels creaked as they started the journey back to the city gates.

Light blue and white sashes fluttered in the breeze as city guards scrutinized their wagon. Xiulan counted at least a dozen more patrolling the walls and gates than she remembered from their departure. The heightened security pricked at her awareness as they rolled through the crowded streets.

The stable's weathered wooden walls offered little protection for their precious cargo. Xiulan stepped down from the wagon, muscles protesting after the long ride. "We should visit the Treasure Pavilion once we're presentable."

"I planned to suggest the same." Feng Yu jumped down beside her. "Valuables tend to sprout legs and walk away in places like this."

The innkeeper bowed as they entered, dispatching servants who returned with steaming food trays and two wooden barrels of water. Back in their room, Feng Yu dipped her fingers into each barrel. Steam curled up from the surface as the water heated.

Xiulan plucked at her mud-caked sleeve. "These clothes are beyond saving. We'll need to visit a tailor."

"After the Pavilion." Feng Yu grabbed a clean cloth. "Safety first."

The soap's herbal scent filled the air as Xiulan scrubbed away layers of grime and dust. Hot water relaxed her muscles, washing away the evidence of their mountain adventure. Clean and refreshed, she pulled on her last unworn outfit—simple but serviceable dark blue robes.

While Feng Yu finished, Xiulan sorted through their packs. She separated the gathered flowers and stuffed them into jars. The roots went in right behind them. Her second pack bulged with dawn serpent scales, their white surfaces catching the light.

How many spirit stones would all these fetch?Xiulan wondered as she tied the bags closed.

Feng Yu emerged wearing a pristine white martial robe that highlighted her amber eyes. The torn red sash still wrapped around her waist drew Xiulan's attention.

"What about your sash?" Xiulan pointed at the frayed edges.

"I'll keep it." Feng Yu touched the fabric with unusual gentleness. "It needs repair, but it's important to me."

"Fair enough." Xiulan gestured to the organized packs on the floor. "I've sorted everything—flowers and roots in one, scales in the other. How do you want to handle the selling?"

"I already got what I needed." Feng Yu waved dismissively. "Handle it however you want."

"Huh... okay?" Xiulan blinked at the unexpected response. The responsibility for selling fell on her shoulders.

"We should purchase supplies while we're here." Xiulan adjusted the pack straps. "I can get the things we need in Blackmere, but the prices would be higher, I think?"

"Definitely." Feng Yu picked up one of the packs. "Did you make a list?"

"That depends on how much we make from the sales."

"Oh, right."

Xiulan shouldered her pack, distributing the weight evenly. The herbs and roots shifted inside as she adjusted the straps. "Ready?"

"Always." Feng Yu hefted the second pack.

At the stable, their drivers jumped to attention. The collection device rattled as they guided the wagon into the street.

"We'll walk," Xiulan said. "Follow at a distance."

Feng Yu strode ahead, and Xiulan matched her pace, observing the flow of people around them. Merchants haggled over prices while workers hauled crates between shops.

The guard station ahead broke the pattern. Two cultivators in ochre green and black uniforms stood watch instead of the typical city guard blues. Xiulan tensed at the unexpected change but maintained her pace behind Feng Yu.

Without breaking stride, Feng Yu pulled out an ivory travel pass with a red tassel. The guards studied it briefly before nodding them through.

The cramped, dusty streets transformed into wide, clean thoroughfares. Signs adorned the buildings, each declaring their specialized purpose—'Storage,' 'Spiritual Ore,' 'Spiritual Cloth,' 'Junk Stone.'

Smoke billowed from a smithy's chimney, the rhythmic clanging of metal on metal accompanying the 'Weapons' sign above its door. A steady stream of customers flowed in and out of a larger building marked simply as 'Spiritual Plants and Pills.'

Xiulan glanced up, spotting an almost invisible dome of white spider webs stretching across the sky.. A laugh bubbled up as recognition hit her. No one in the 'pavilion' would need to worry about the weather. 

Holy shit, it's the Mall of America for cultivators.

Xiulan followed Feng Yu through winding streets that grew wider and more ornate. A tower pierced the sky ahead, its golden spires catching the morning light. The gaudy sign 'SELL YOUR TREASURE HERE' blazed across its facade in brilliant spiritual fire that pulsed steadily.

Below, a wide ramp descended beneath the tower where wagons formed neat lines. Workers in grey robes hustled between vehicles, checking manifests and directing traffic. Above, broad marble stairs swept upward to an elaborate second floor entrance where cultivators streamed in and out.

"Are these all Treasure Pavilion disciples?" Xiulan watched robed figures weave through the crowd.

"Outer disciples mostly." Feng Yu nodded toward a group examining spiritual ores. "The craftspeople are inner disciples, except for their apprentices."

Xiulan counted at least fifty cultivators visible from their position. "I've never seen so many gathered in one place."

"Well, you're from Blackmere." Feng Yu shrugged. "Places like this exist all over, but Blackmere lacks... everything, really."

"No need to drive that spike deeper into my heart." Xiulan pressed a hand to her chest in mock pain.

Feng Yu gestured to their drivers, pointing toward the underground loading area. "Wait in line down there. Watch the wagon, but no one should interfere until we handle the paperwork."

At the top of the stairs, Feng Yu indicated a smaller entrance set into the ornate facade. "That's where we sell our things."

The private selling booths lined the walls in an orderly fashion, each separated by wooden dividers that offered the illusion of privacy.

Feng Yu guided Xiulan to an empty booth. "Pull this golden cord when you're ready." She pointed to an ornate tassel hanging near the entrance. "A Merchandiser will assist you."

"You're not staying?" Xiulan turned toward her companion.

"Business to handle." Feng Yu smiled. "I'll return shortly." She placed the second travel pack beside Xiulan and slipped away through the curtains.

Xiulan surveyed the polished wooden counter that dominated the small space. The open hall in the center of the room was wide open as multiple Treasure Pavilion staff moved back and forth, tending to business.

She shook her head. Focus on the task.

First, she needed to set aside supplies for herself. She counted out five hundred and sixty dawn serpent scales. Four water roots joined the pile, along with a glass jar packed with chromatic flowers. She tucked those precious resources into the corner.

The remaining inventory spread across the selling surface in neat rows. Forty-four water roots gleamed with residual spiritual energy. Twelve glass jars stuffed with chromatic flowers added splashes of shifting color to the display.

If only I had my mortar and pestle from home , Xiulan thought while eyeing the whole flowers. Ground ingredients would fetch a better price than raw materials.

She simply put the travel pack full of scales on the counter without taking them out except for a set of twenty. The biggest problem was she had so many of them, and that wasn't even including the collection device stuffed full of them back at the stable—flooding the market would devastate their value.

She needed a way to sell them all at a good price.

Xiulan reached up and pulled the golden cord.

The golden cord swayed as a woman in purple merchandiser robes swept into the booth. Sharp green eyes assessed the displayed goods while she smoothed her black hair.

"I am Yu Pei. How may I assist you today?"

"Lin Xiulan." Xiulan straightened her posture. "I've come to sell some of the things my friend and I acquired."

Yu Pei's fingers danced across the items. "Forty-four water roots, twelve sets of chromatic flowers..." Her gaze skimmed over the dawn serpent scales. "One hundred spirit stones for the lot, not including the scales."

Xiulan blinked at the lowball offer. "The water roots alone should fetch three spirit stones each."

Yu Pei's nose wrinkled. "Ninety-four spirit stones then. The flowers are clearly worth half a stone, not one. I made a mistake in your favor initially."

What? Xiulan's jaw clenched at the merchant's sudden shift. The negotiation spiraled away from any semblance of fairness.

Before Xiulan could protest, Yu Pei clicked her tongue. "Perhaps fifty spirit stones would be more appropriate? These water roots appear... substandard."

"They're not—" Xiulan cut off as Yu Pei stared down her nose. "Fine. Ninety-six for those items." She gestured toward the pack. "But what about the scales?"

Yu Pei's eyes narrowed. "Is the entire pack full? How many, exactly?"

"I haven't counted precisely." Xiulan kept her voice steady. "But they're all premium quality—harvested just yesterday from dawn serpents."

Yu Pei plucked one scale from the display, turning it under the spirit stone lights. The iridescent surface caught the glow, reflecting rainbow patterns across her face.

Xiulan forced her face to remain neutral despite the burning indignation at Yu Pei's earlier lowball tactics. The scales would make up for it—they had to.

Yu Pei tapped the scale against the polished counter. "This is quite a collection to gather so quickly. Dawn serpent scales must be harvested while the beasts still live. How did you manage such a feat alone?"

"I had assistance." Xiulan shrugged. "Though I handled them personally. The serpents proved quite... vigorous." Not technically a lie—I did grab that one personally before throwing it in the trap.

"Ah." Yu Pei set the scale down. "With so many flooding the market at once, I cannot offer premium pricing. You should have been more careful—or your group less enthusiastic in their collection."

"Ha." Xiulan leaned forward. "And what exactly is this 'not so premium' price?"

Yu Pei hummed, examining the bulging pack. "One spirit stone per hundred scales seems fair. This pack likely contains ten thousand or so. You could make approximately one hundred spirit stones for it." She smiled thinly. "Though anyone else hoping to sell scales will curse your name for months after this price drop."

"But how many will you purchase?" Xiulan asked carefully.

"What do you mean?" Yu Pei straightened. "I'm offering to buy all your scales today."

Lightning sparked through Xiulan's meridians at those words. She fought to keep her expression neutral. "That deal sounds perfectly acceptable. I'm quite pleased you'll buy all of my scales today."

Yu Pei frowned slightly but pulled out a sheet of parchment, carefully inking the agreement.

Xiulan read each line carefully when Yu Pei finished. She made sure the term she especially wanted was inked correctly. It was.

After confirming, Yu Pei placed her red stamp on the bottom and Xiulan sliced her thumb and sealed it with her blood.

"Congratulations. I'm sure you're pleased with your newfound wealth." Yu Pei spread the scales across the counter, fingers blurring as she counted.

"You should get some help," Xiulan said. "This could take quite a while."

"I assure you my cultivation allows me to count with extreme precision and speed." Yu Pei's hands continued their rapid movements. "I'll have this pack done shortly."

"No, I mean you'll need help counting all the rest of them."

Yu Pei's hands froze. "The... rest?"

"Yes." Xiulan smiled sweetly. "I have the remainder waiting in the cargo area below."

Yu Pei's face twitched. The merchant drew a sharp breath through her nose before yanking at the golden cord. Two outer disciples in grey robes appeared instantly.

"Go to the loading area," Yu Pei snapped. "Fetch Miss Lin's cargo immediately."

The disciples bowed and hurried away while Yu Pei resumed counting with renewed intensity. Her fingers moved even faster now, practically invisible as she sorted through the massive pile.

Xiulan settled back against her chair, unable to suppress a satisfied smirk. The contract specified all her scales, today, at one spirit stone per hundred. Yu Pei couldn't back out now.

"How are things progressing?" Feng Yu stepped through the curtain.

Xiulan passed her the agreement. "Very well!"

Feng Yu scanned the document and smiled. "That's great!"

The double doors burst open as six outer disciples staggered in, muscles straining under the weight of the bronze collection device. Their grey robes darkened with sweat while they maneuvered the massive bell through the entrance.

Yu Pei shot up from her counting position, knocking over a neat pile of scales. Her sharp green eyes widened at the sight of the device. She lunged forward, yanking the tarp free.

Iridescent scales cascaded onto the polished floor in a glittering avalanche. The rainbow shimmer caught in the spirit stone lights, casting dancing patterns across the wooden walls. More scales spilled out as Yu Pei tipped the bell, creating a mountain of precious materials that spread across the selling floor.

"You...!" Yu Pei stabbed a finger toward Xiulan.

The accumulated wealth drew every eye from the open side of the hall. Merchants abandoned their negotiations. Cultivators stopped mid-transaction. Even the outer disciples froze in place, staring at the fortune scattered across the floor.

"Guards!" Yu Pei's shriek pierced the stunned silence. "We have a scammer! Arrest her!"

Two burly guards materialized from the crowd. Their iron grip locked around Xiulan's arms before she could react. They yanked her backward and toward a set of metal doors.

Feng Yu stood frozen, mouth agape, contract still in her hand.

What the fuck!

"Feng Yu! Hire a lawyer!" Xiulan shouted.

Chapter 50: Profitable Winds

In the game of power, masters move pieces with deliberate grace, each gesture carrying weight beyond mortal comprehension. The young often mistake their calculated movements for mere chance, failing to see the intricate web being woven around them. Remember: when ancient powers take notice, it is rarely by accident.

— Master Wu Zhi, Commander of Ten Thousand

Polished marble floors lined the Treasure Pavilion's prison hallway. It was distinctly at odds with the states of the cells lining the walls, which were rough stone and filthy.

Xiulan bristled at the rough treatment. She could walk on her own. There was no need to lay hands on her! "Release me at once! I am Lin Xiulan, sister to Lord Lin of Blackmere County!"

The guards maintained their iron grip on her arms, their qi-enhanced strength making resistance futile. Their cultivation levels had to be at least Qi Refinement, possibly even Foundation Forming, based on how easily they overpowered her.

"Silence," the left guard barked. "Or face additional punishment."

Xiulan huffed indignantly as they dragged her past rows of cells. Unwashed prisoners pressed against the bars, their faces twisted with malicious glee.

"Look who got caught cheating the Treasure Pavilion!" A scarred man cackled. "Hope you enjoy the slave mines, pretty girl. That's where they send all the scammers!"

"Better get used to breaking rocks!" Another prisoner shouted.

She was relieved when the guards shoved her into an individual cell. But the heckling didn't stop. The assholes in the mass lockup kept going on and on.

Xiulan spotted a small pebble near her foot. In one fluid motion, she scooped it up and flicked it with her thumb. The stone ricocheted off the cell bars, bouncing between prisoners who yelped in pain.

"You little—" A cultivator in tattered robes hurled a handful of stones back at her, the stones bouncing off walls and into her cell.

More prisoners joined in. Small rocks pelted her from multiple directions. She gritted her teeth as the impacts stung against her skin.

"ENOUGH!" A guard's voice thundered through the hall. He stormed down the corridor, slamming metal shutters closed on each cell. The solid panels clanged shut, cutting off the jeers and taunts.

Along with the light.

Darkness enveloped Xiulan as her own cell's shutter slammed closed. She slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest. Cultivator prison. This is just perfect.

The shocked expression on Feng Yu's face flashed through her mind. What happens now?

The darkness pressed against Xiulan's eyes as minutes stretched into hours. She traced patterns on the cold stone floor, counting breaths until the numbers blurred together. Eventually, the metal shutter's screech jolted her from a half-doze.

Light flooded the cell. Xiulan blinked rapidly, her heart hammering as Feng Yu's silhouette materialized beyond the bars. They couldn't have arrested her too...

"Come on." Feng Yu tapped her foot against the polished floor. "Or did you grow to like it in here?"

Relief surged through Xiulan's chest. She sprang up and rushed forward as the cell door creaked open, barely stopping herself from throwing her arms around Feng Yu. Right. Noble decorum.

Her friend released a weak laugh as the guard sealed the cell behind them. The shuttered cells lining their path remained silent and dark.

"Did you get a lawyer?" Xiulan whispered as they followed the guard down the corridor.

Feng Yu's eyebrow arched. "A lawyer? For what? Even with your contract, we couldn't afford one." She snorted. "What is this, the Golden Court settling sect disputes?"

"Then... how did I get out?"

Feng Yu lifted a bronze-gilded container, spiritual glass gleaming in the torchlight. The contract floated inside, pristine and official. "This, obviously. I protested to the pavilion master."

Xiulan blinked at the contract. "Oh."

The guards escorted them through winding corridors of polished stone and gleaming bronze fixtures. Feng Yu stayed close. "The pavilion master wants to speak with you directly."

The qi density increased with each step upward, pressing against Xiulan's skin like thick honey. When they reached an ornate door decorated with spirit beast carvings, the pressure doubled. The guards ushered them inside before pulling the doors shut with a resonant boom.

An elderly man stepped out from behind a carved screen. His white beard was impeccably groomed, his robes pristine and flowing with spiritual energy. The qi radiating from him struck Xiulan like a physical force—Golden Core, at minimum.

"This novice greets the honorable spiritual master of the treasure pavilion!" Xiulan and Feng Yu saluted in perfect unison.

The pavilion master waved off their formality and gestured to two embroidered cushions beside a low table. "Sit. Take tea while we discuss matters."

Sweet aromatics wafted up as he poured the tea for them with practiced motions. The scent reminded Xiulan of heaven grass tea, but the taste was slightly sweeter. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as he served them personally—a promising sign.

"You caused quite a commotion in my hall today, did you not?" The master fixed his gaze on Xiulan.

"Uhh... Master, I did not intend—"

He sighed and shook his head. "Your friend explained the situation."

The master's hands moved with deliberate grace as he continued serving the tea. "My disciple's lack of judgment and training has damaged our pavilion's reputation. She even ensured we could not correct the transaction without losing even more face."

He withdrew a roll of parchment from his sleeve and slid it across the lacquered table. "The spirit stones would prove impossible to transport. This promissory note, redeemable at any treasure pavilion, will serve instead."

Xiulan accepted the roll with both hands, bowing deeply from her seated position. The paper crinkled softly between her fingers. She unfolded it slightly to read the amount.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Ninety-six stones for the roots and flowers. Nine thousand four hundred fifty-one scales in her pack turned into an additional ninety-five spirit stones.

And the bell…

Six hundred thirty-six thousand one hundred seventy-two scales turned into six thousand three hundred sixty-two spirit stones.

The note promised six thousand five hundred fifty-three stones.

It was… outrageous.

No wonder Yu Pei had panicked. They were probably torturing her or trying to figure out how to sell her soul to recoup the damage.

Xiulan lifted her head. "This humble one thanks the honorable master for upholding the treasure pavilion's reputation. Despite today's... misunderstanding, I will speak nothing but praise for the pavilion's fair dealings."

A rich chuckle rumbled from the master's chest. "I should hope so." He lifted his teacup, steam curling around his weathered features. "Especially given your connection to Master Qingfeng—or so your companion mentioned."

Ice shot through Xiulan's veins. Her gaze snapped to Feng Yu, who sat cross-legged on her cushion, sipping tea with perfect poise. Suddenly, it made a little more sense why they weren't putting more effort into finding a way to remove her life so they could take back the deal somehow.

"I needed to resolve things quickly." Feng Yu shrugged, setting down her cup with a soft clink. "The connection seemed relevant."

Xiulan drew a steadying breath. "Yes, I work under Master Qingfeng's guidance. The dawn serpent scales were collected as part of our agreement."

"Fascinating." The master stroked his beard, spiritual energy rippling through the silvery strands. "Dawn serpent scales have limited applications. Though they would create exceptional spiritual armor." His eyes glinted over his teacup. "Perhaps Master Qingfeng has taken up alchemy in his spare time?"

Sweat trickled down Xiulan's spine, her robes sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She bowed again, deeper this time. "I couldn't possibly comment on the master's personal pursuits without his presence."

"Oh ho!" The master's laugh boomed through the chamber. "So the prospective disciple who drives such lopsided bargains with her peers shows proper respect for her teacher."

Heat rushed to Xiulan's cheeks as she stared into her teacup. "The deal might have been... somewhat one-sided. I might have reacted badly to—"

"No need to continue." The pavilion master lifted his hand. "The Treasure Pavilion records all negotiations. I reviewed your interaction personally." He took another sip of tea, the steam curling around his face. "Yu Pei's initial haggling created little harmony. She provoked the bear, as they say."

Xiulan's shoulders slumped, tension draining from her shoulders. "Haa... Master has seen through everything."

The pavilion master reached into his flowing robes and withdrew a small lacquered box. The wood gleamed with spiritual inscriptions as he slid it across the table toward Feng Yu.

"Master?" Feng Yu blinked at the box, her teacup frozen halfway to her lips.

"I must reward you as well." The master's eyes crinkled with amusement as spiritual energy danced across the box's surface.

The pavilion master turned to Xiulan. "Your companion proved quite loyal. She demanded an immediate audience despite risking her own freedom." His gaze shifted to Feng Yu, eyes twinkling. "And despite risking some other... matters as well?"

Feng Yu shifted on her cushion, the embroidered silk rustling beneath her. "This humble one merely acted as duty required." She bowed low, forehead nearly touching the lacquered table.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the master's chest as he gestured to the box.

Feng Yu's fingers trembled slightly while lifting the lid. Inside, a luminescent orb cast rainbow-hued light across her face. The qi emanating from it tickled Xiulan's senses—pure, untamed power.

"A prismatic beast's essence." The master's words carried the weight of mountains. "Since I cannot divine your elemental preference, you may choose whichever suits you."

Blood drained from Feng Yu's face, leaving her complexion ashen. Her hands froze on the box's edges.

"It will certainly prove useful for you." The master stroked his beard. "Considering...?"

"Master, this—this is too generous." Feng Yu's bow deepened further, her voice barely above a whisper.

"If you believe so..." The master's eyes sparkled with hidden knowledge. "Then it must be an appropriate reward indeed."

Feng Yu's shoulders tensed before relaxing. She straightened, clutching the box close. "This disciple humbly accepts master's profound generosity."

Feng Yu snapped the lacquered box shut. Spiritual inscriptions pulsed across its surface, sealing the precious contents from degradation. The abrupt absence of the essence's power left an emptiness in the air.

Questions bubbled in Xiulan's mind as she studied Feng Yu's careful movements. Why would someone at Feng Yu's level need such a specific cultivation tool? Unless...

Understanding struck like lightning. The massive ancient serpent's peculiar behavior—turning away, focusing destruction on the mountaintops instead of them—suddenly made perfect sense.

Xiulan kept her face carefully neutral. Good job, Feng Yu! Good Job!

Master Yan cleared his throat, drawing Xiulan's attention back to his weathered features. "Please inform Master Qingfeng that Yan Qingshi remembers him. Some of us would welcome his return to active circles."

The master's penetrating gaze fixed on Xiulan. "Perhaps he might share what promising young blood he discovered during his... isolation."

A lump formed in Xiulan's throat as the implications sank in. "This novice will convey your message faithfully." Her stomach churned with sudden anxiety. Master Yan's meaning couldn't be clearer—and the weight of such attention sent chills down her spine.

Not great! Wasn't she supposed to be trying to keep a low profile?

She glanced at Feng Yu. There was nothing subtle about her new martial sister.

A memory of Ren Chun raising his sword and shouting 'Justice!' flashed.

Okay, maybe that hadn't been realistic. Her own actions hadn't been on the down-low either.

They needed to get back to Blackmere, and she needed to check on her family and Mei Chen. They'd been gone too long.

Xiulan set down her teacup and bowed deeply. "Honorable Master Yan, please forgive my rudeness, but I've lost track of time in your esteemed presence. Would the Treasure Pavilion still be open for purchases? I need thunder root and several other materials."

"Oho. I believe Thunder Root should be in our stores. It's valuable enough." The spiritual energy in the room pulsed with his interest. "So I was correct about the alchemy, hmm?"

Heat crept up Xiulan's neck. Sweat beaded along her hairline as she stared at the intricate patterns woven into the cushion beneath her. Smooth. Real smooth.

"Do not worry." He gestured toward the window. "Unlike sleepy Blackmere, commerce flows eternal in Fershere. Our Treasure Pavilion never rests—day or night. You'll be able to complete your purchases before departing."

"This humble one thanks Master Yan for his generosity." Xiulan smiled and bowed again, relief flooding through her chest.

Luck was on her side… going from jail to everything going right for once! Now that she had plenty of funds, what could go wrong?

Chapter 51: Return Gust

The greatest treasures draw the darkest hearts, like moths to flame. A wise cultivator guards their fortune not through strength alone, but through discretion. For what remains hidden cannot be coveted, and what remains unknown cannot be stolen.

—Master Wu Zhi, Commander of Ten Thousand

Xiulan stared as the roll of half-finished talisman papers fluttered away behind the wagon as they dislodged themselves from the hasty placement under her travel pack. 

An hour ago, she'd floated cross-legged atop the wagon while practicing basic formations under Feng Yu's guidance. The gentle sway of the cart had made the delicate brush strokes challenging yet oddly enjoyable.

Now arrows whistled past her head as the wagon thundered down a forest path. Dust clouded behind them, rocks spraying from the wheels as their drivers pushed the straining horses to their limits.

"Faster, don't stop for anything!" Feng Yu shouted from her position on top of the collection device.

The drivers cracked their whips. Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they urged the terrified horses forward.

An arrow streaked toward Xiulan's chest. Feng Yu's blade flashed with crimson light, incinerating the projectile mid-flight.

Two cultivators burst from the tree line, weapons drawn. Xiulan sprang to her feet, gathering qi in her palms. Her Thunder God clap technique sent them flying backward. Their bodies cracked against a massive oak trunk with a satisfying thud.

More arrows hissed through the air from mounted archers pursuing them. The bowmen stayed frustratingly outside the range of her thunder technique, their horses' hooves drumming against the packed earth.

"Miss! In front!" One driver's panicked voice cut through the chaos.

Xiulan spotted two cultivators ahead, making intricate hand gestures in the middle of the road. Those movements—they're preparing a formation technique!

"Feng Yu! Road block in front!" Xiulan's shout cut through the thundering of hooves and creaking wagon wheels.

Feng Yu spun toward the threat. Another volley of arrows streaked through the dust-filled air. Xiulan leaped to the back of the wagon, channeling qi through her meridians. The thunderclap technique burst from her palms, creating a vortex that scattered the arrows like twigs in a storm.

Damn it. Xiulan gritted her teeth. One middle range offensive technique wasn't enough for this kind of fight. The limitations of her current abilities burned.

Above Feng Yu's raised hands, a sphere of flame materialized—smaller than the inferno she'd unleashed against the ancient dawn serpent but still radiating intense heat. The orb pulsed once before launching a barrage of fire bolts. They streaked toward the road-blocking cultivators, leaving trails of super-heated air in their wake.

The horses shrieked and bucked against their reins as the waves of scorching heat passed over them. Both cultivators broke their formation stances and fled, their clothes and hair aflame. Their hastily constructed earthen barriers melted into smooth glass under the intense barrage.

The drivers screamed as their horses charged through the wall of flames. Heat seared Xiulan's face. Smoke stung her eyes. The wagon wheels jolted against the newly formed glass beneath them, nearly throwing her off balance.

A fresh volley of arrows whistled through the dissipating inferno, all aimed at Feng Yu. Her blade danced in precise arcs, each movement deliberate and graceful. Steel rang against steel as her sword intercepted every projectile, sending them spinning harmlessly into the dust.

Xiulan braced against the wagon's side, lungs burning from the smoke. "Are there more coming?"

"I think that—" Feng Yu started.

One of the pursuing archers raised his hands skyward. The air crystallized above him, forming a massive icicle that gleamed like polished crystal in the sunlight. The frozen spear launched forward with devastating speed.

Xiulan's thunderclap technique burst from her palms, but the icicle plowed through the wave, undeterred. Feng Yu thrust her sword up into the hovering flame orb. Fire spiraled down the blade like a serpent, wreathing the steel in brilliant orange light. She pointed the blazing weapon at the incoming projectile, and the flames lashed out in a beam.

Ice met fire in an explosive collision. Steam erupted between them with a deafening hiss, enveloping the road in a scalding white cloud.

The steam billowed around the wagon as Xiulan steadied herself against the rocking motion.

"Really, this happens too often!" Xiulan shouted over the thundering hooves and creaking wheels.

"Everyone in Fershere probably heard about what happened in the trade hall before you even got out of jail!" Feng Yu deflected another arrow with a precise slash of her blade.

"Argh!" The shout burst from Xiulan's throat.

Light from the flames glinted off another volley of arrows plummeting toward them. Feng Yu deflected them again and Xiulan positioned herself to defend the drivers' exposed backs. 

She spun her spear in a defensive pattern she'd learned during their training sessions. The weapon connected with an arrow, sending it spiraling to the side.

Heat radiated from Feng Yu's blade as she drew another circle of flame. The sword swept horizontally behind the wagon, trailing fire like a burning brush stroke. A wall of flames erupted from the ground, spreading across the width of the road.

"What—" Xiulan stared at the blazing barrier.

Xiulan's heart leaped into her throat as Feng Yu launched herself off the wagon. The sudden movement sent ripples through the wooden planks beneath her feet.

What the—should I stop the wagon!?

The thought barely registered before her attention locked onto Feng Yu sprinting toward the wall of flames. The fire cast dancing shadows across her friend's determined face. Two mounted cultivators burst through the blazing barrier, their horses' hooves striking sparks from the charred road.

Feng Yu met them at full sprint. Her sword flashed in a brutal arc, cleaving through both horse and rider on her right. In the same fluid motion, she jumped and twisted to drive her boot into the second rider's chest. The impact launched him from his saddle with a satisfying crack.

Dust kicked up behind Feng Yu as she pivoted and raced back toward the wagon. Her legs blurred with impossible speed, outpacing even their galloping horses. The drivers shouted in amazement as she closed the distance.

Xiulan scrambled to the wagon's edge and thrust out her hand. Their fingers locked together, and she pulled Feng Yu aboard with a sharp grunt. The wagon swayed from the added weight but held steady.

"That's—" Feng Yu panted, brushing ash from her robes. "That's all I could sense following us."

"Will there be more?" Xiulan steadied herself against the rocking motion.

Feng Yu wiped sweat from her brow. "We shouldn't risk stopping at any inns until we reach Blackmere."

Xiulan stifled another yawn as she scanned the darkened road ahead. She and Feng Yu had taken turns keeping watch, neither willing to risk dropping their guard. A broken stone marker emerged from the shadows, its weathered surface bearing the faded insignia of Blackmere County. Recognition sparked through her exhaustion.

The moment they crossed the boundary, Xiulan sensed the dramatic shift in the ambient qi. The energy thinned considerably—far more noticeable than the gradual changes between Fershere and Dawn Valley.

At least the attacks had stopped. Each mile between them and Fershere decreased the likelihood of another ambush. She hoped, anyway.

But the horses stumbled beneath them, their steps growing increasingly unsteady. Despite changing mounts at every opportunity along the road, a full day had passed since the last inn. Sweat matted their flanks despite the cool night air.

Xiulan reached out and tapped Feng Yu's shoulder. The other girl stretched, her joints popping as she twisted to face Xiulan.

"What is it?"

"We're almost back to Blackmere proper," Xiulan said. "But these horses won't make it much further without rest."

Feng Yu frowned and shook her head. "We shouldn't stop now. Better to push through to the Treasure Pavilion and secure everything there first."

Xiulan nodded decisively. "The drivers can take the horses to the manor stables. We'll pull the wagon ourselves."

Feng Yu froze, staring at Xiulan without blinking. The silence stretched for a full minute as moonlight cast shadows across her face. "You want us to pull the wagon? Like beasts of burden?"

"Yes." Xiulan met her gaze steadily.

Feng Yu dropped her eyes to her crossed legs, lips pressed into a thin line as she processed the suggestion.

"It would be the safest way to keep moving," Xiulan said.

A long breath escaped Feng Yu's lips. "Okay. If you can suggest and do that, then so can I."

Xiulan ordered the wagon to a halt. The drivers exchanged bewildered glances as she instructed them to unhitch the horses in the middle of the dark road.

"Take them to the Lin Family Manor stables," Xiulan said, pointing toward the city. "Make sure they get proper care and rest."

"But Miss Lin..." One driver stepped forward, eyes darting between her and Feng Yu. "What will you—"

The question died in his throat as Xiulan and Feng Yu positioned themselves where the horses had stood. Shock painted their faces as they opened their mouths to protest, but Xiulan had already gripped the harness. The wagon creaked forward as she and Feng Yu began to pull, leaving the dumbfounded drivers behind.

The wagon rolled steadily through the night as Xiulan and Feng Yu maintained their rhythmic pace. The physical effort blended with their qi circulation, creating an almost meditative state.

Except for her companion's interruptions.

"Never speak of this to anyone." Feng Yu muttered for the twentieth time. "A noble cultivator, pulling a wagon like an ox..."

"Your secret stays safe with me." Xiulan smiled at the continued grumbling.

The thin qi density of Blackmere pressed against her senses. It didn't really affect her much, considering she was still only at the first stages of cultivation, but she pondered how visitors like Master Qingfeng coped with the spiritual drought.

Pre-dawn light painted the sky in muted grays as they approached a familiar fork in the road. The right path led to her family manor, while the left curved toward the city proper. A dark mass caught Xiulan's attention at the junction.

"Hey, what's that?" Xiulan squinted at the undefined shape.

"Not sure." Feng Yu slowed her steps, forcing their pace to decrease.

The putrid scent hit Xiulan's nose before the shape became clear. The unmistakable stench of decay wafted across the road.

"That's not good..." Xiulan's muscles tensed as she stared into the gloom.

The pre-dawn shadows resolved into a grotesque tableau. Bodies lay stacked in careless heaps, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Her stomach churned at the sight of her fallen soldiers left to rot by the roadside.

"What happened?" The words escaped through clenched teeth.

"I don't know." Feng Yu stepped closer, studying the decomposing remains. "They've been here for days, at least. Should I do something about them?"

"Ha..." A bitter laugh escaped Xiulan's lips. "We can't take the time to bury them, not when we don't know what's going on. But leaving them could cause disease and it's..."

"I can burn them." Feng Yu's quiet offer cut through Xiulan's spiraling thoughts.

Xiulan unhooked the harness from her shoulders and pulled her sleeve across her nose and mouth. Each step toward the bodies amplified the nauseating stench. 

She crouched beside the nearest corpse, examining the distinctive patterns etched into the armor plates. The familiar Lin family craftsmanship confirmed her fears. These men had served her family.

She returned to Feng Yu and the wagon, forcing steadiness into her voice. "I think you should burn them. I don't know what's going on, but we can't just leave this here."

Feng Yu nodded. A sphere of crimson flame materialized above her palm, pulsing with contained power. The orb drifted toward the bodies, expanding as it moved. When it reached the grisly pile, the flames descended. Heat flared and left nothing but bone and molten metal.

Thirty to forty soldiers were dead…

She'd been gone too long; left before things had stabilized. She had not stayed in contact with her mother and brother enough.

Considering how things were…

Were they even still alive? The world was not kind.

Xiulan let out a tense breath.

Feng Yu frowned at her. "Things might still be okay. We should hurry, and then we can find out."

Xiulan nodded. "Let's hope Master Qingfeng doesn't want to sleep in today."

Chapter 52: Disconcerting Wave

In times of crisis, a cultivator must maintain three pillars: composure to weather the storm, wisdom to navigate troubled waters, and the courage to face what lies ahead. Yet even the mightiest tree bends before the tempest—it is not weakness to adapt, but strength to endure.

—Master Song Lin, Scholar of the Jade Path

As dawn lightened and the sun threatened to peek out over the eastern horizon, smoke trailed from Blackmere city in the distance. Xiulan squinted at the dark plume, her heart sinking.

"Look," Feng Yu pointed. "Something's burning."

Xiulan nodded. "We need to hurry."

"We can't leave the wagon behind," Feng Yu said, glancing at their load. "Let's push through to the Treasure Pavilion without stopping."

The gates stood open despite the early hour. People milled about aimlessly, their faces blank. Xiulan's unease grew as they got closer. What had happened here?

City guards loitered near the gate, their usual vigilance replaced by indifference. They didn't bother to check anyone or maintain order. She wanted to ask, but that would cost them time. Worse, it would get them noticed.

That turned out to be the case anyway—two cultivators pulling a wagon?

Everyone gawked at them.

Xiulan ignored the stares, hoping no one recognized her under the ash and soot. Her clothes were torn and dirty, and Feng Yu didn't look much better.

"We missed our chance to shop for outfits because of that idiot Yu Pei," Xiulan muttered.

Feng Yu grunted in agreement. "We'll just have to present ourselves to Master Qingfeng like this."

The source of the smoke became clear as they neared the Lin Family City Manor. Anxiety twisted in Xiulan's gut. The manor walls were charred, and it looked like the buildings inside had been torched as well. The rest of the city seemed untouched.

"It was targeted arson," Xiulan said.

"Let's hope everyone escaped before the fire took hold. It looks like it burned two or three days ago." Feng Yu pulled harder on her side of the wagon.

Xiulan forced her attention away from the smoldering ruins. The sooner they reached the Treasure Pavilion, the sooner she'd learn what happened.

The Pavilion's main gates stood locked, but two familiar figures guarded the side entrance. Martial Brother Long's indigo robes rippled as he stepped forward with a raised hand. Martial Brother Mo mirrored his stance.

"Halt!" Long's voice echoed across the courtyard.

"Martial Brothers." Xiulan bowed despite her exhaustion. "I apologize for our disheveled state, but we need to see Master Qingfeng urgently. We have cargo to deposit and hope to learn recent news."

"Who addresses us?" Mo squinted through the morning haze.

"Lin Xiulan, with my martial sister, Feng Yu."

Recognition flickered across their faces. Long rushed to unlock the gate while Mo ushered them inside.

"I'll inform Master Qingfeng." Long sprinted toward the main building.

Mo eyed their torn clothing and soot-stained skin. "You look like you ran through a forest fire."

A weak laugh escaped Xiulan's throat. "Not far wrong. Cultivator bandits ambushed us multiple times on the road."

His gaze shifted to the contents of their wagon. "The collection device has seen better days."

"It's perfectly fine." Feng Yu stretched her shoulders. "A few qi blasts from an ancient golden core dawn serpent couldn't break it."

Mo's jaw dropped. "What?"

A smile tugged at Xiulan's lips. For once, it was someone else's turn to be shocked.

Footsteps echoed across the courtyard. Martial Brother Long returned with six servants trailing behind him, two of which carried a stack of fresh clothing. The familiar purple-robed figure of Merchandiser Ming led the procession, her silver hair gleaming in its severe bun.

"Master Qingfeng will see you both," Ming announced. "However, he suggests you take time to bathe and recuperate first. The servants will show you to—"

"No." Xiulan stepped forward. "I need to check on Mei Chen immediately. And I must know what's happening in the city right now."

The urgency in her own voice surprised her, but the smoking ruins of her family manor burned. Every moment spent on pleasantries meant more time without answers.

"Master Qingfeng insists you cannot see Mei Chen until he discusses her condition with you directly," Ming said. "Your current state and agitation suggest you need time to recuperate. Otherwise, rash heads might act brashly and regret it later."

Blood rushed to Xiulan's face. The exhaustion from pulling the wagon vanished under a surge of panic. "What's that supposed to mean? Did something happen to Mei Chen?" Her fingers curled into fists. "If you did something to her, I'll—"

Warm arms wrapped around her from behind. Feng Yu's gentle embrace pinned Xiulan's arms to her sides, stopping her advance toward Ming.

"Mei Chen's condition remains stable for now and won't change in the next few hours." Ming adjusted one of her golden hairpins. "The county's situation is equally unlikely to shift. There is still time. But the Master's assessment of your need for rest proves accurate, given your behavior."

A tremor ran through Xiulan's body. The weight of days spent fighting and running crashed over her. The image of the burning manor blurred with the pile of dead soldiers in her mind.

"It's true." Feng Yu's breath tickled Xiulan's ear. "We should accept their offer."

Xiulan sagged in Feng Yu's arms. "Fine."

They followed the servants toward the guest building.

She scrubbed her skin raw under the warm water, barely noticing the lavender scent. The white silk robe clung to her damp skin as she yanked it on, not bothering to dry properly. Her fingers trembled while tying the sash.

Without Mei Chen's practiced touch, her hair remained tangled as she wrestled it into a messy ponytail. The thought of her maid's gentle hands brought a fresh wave of anxiety. Five steps forward, five steps back—she paced across the polished wooden floor.

Steam curled around the privacy screen as Feng Yu emerged in matching white robes. She leaned against the wall, frowning. "Do you think Master Qingfeng or Ming lied about the situation?"

"No..." Xiulan continued pacing. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet.

"Then stop worrying yourself to death and calm down." Feng Yu crossed her arms. "This isn't like you."

The words 'what do you know about how I am?' burned on Xiulan's tongue. She bit them back, collapsing onto a cushioned bench. Her arms wrapped around her torso as tremors wracked her body.

Her hands shook as memories crashed through her. The stupid need for caffeine. The truck's headlights. Darkness. Then awakening as someone else—as Lin Xiulan.

The silk cushions beneath her felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. She doubled over, chest tight. Images flashed rapid-fire: Lin Qian's sneer, Lin Fei's slap. Guards advancing with drawn swords. Zhang Wei's bruised face. The scarecrow hanging in her residence hall. Mei Chen's tortured body in that dark cell.

I killed them. The thought echoed. I killed my family.

Blood splattered across marble floors. Spear spinning between her fingers as she struck them down. Their screams. Lord Lin's final gasp as she drove her weapon through his open mouth. Suyin's terror as she was impaled. 

Xiulan choked on the visuals as they rushed by. She'd become a monster. The pressure built behind her eyes. Her lungs refused to expand. The room spun as black spots danced in her vision.

"Breathe." Feng Yu's voice sounded distant, underwater.

But she couldn't breathe. The walls pressed closer. The wet silk robes constricted like a serpent. Every heartbeat thundered in her ears.

What have I become? The question looped endlessly. What am I doing here?

She wasn't Lin Xiulan. She was Li Mei—a retail worker who played too many video games. Who died on a neon-lit street? Who woke up in someone else's life and proceeded to destroy it completely?

That's not true. Some things are better.

The thought was weak against the raging torrent of trauma.

The cushions slipped away as she curled into herself on the floor. Her forehead pressed against the cool wood as tremors wracked her body. 

All the careful plans, the calculated moves, the desperate fights for survival—they crashed down at once, crushing her beneath their weight.

Warm arms wrapped around her from behind as Feng Yu pulled her close. The dam broke. Tears streamed down Xiulan's face, soaking into her martial sister's silk robes. Every suppressed emotion—fear, guilt, grief—poured out in wracking sobs until darkness claimed her.

Sunlight pierced through silk curtains when Xiulan opened her eyes. A soft bed cradled her aching body, but her head throbbed. She pushed herself up, squinting at the light.

"Feeling any better?"

Xiulan startled at Feng Yu's voice from a shadowed corner.

"A little." Xiulan rubbed her temples. "Did you get any rest? Learn anything?"

"Not much." Feng Yu shifted in her seat. "Though Master Qingfeng sent word—you can see him whenever you're ready."

Xiulan ran fingers through her tangled hair. "Help me look presentable?"

"Hah. Okay." Feng Yu stood. "The servants offered earlier, you know. You're just like a princess."

"Sorry." Xiulan dropped her gaze.

"Don't be."

Feng Yu's gentle hands smoothed Xiulan's disheveled hair while she changed into fresh robes. The silk whispered against her skin, unmarred by wrinkles or stains.

"There." Feng Yu stepped back. "Now we both look presentable."

"Since becoming a cultivator, I forgot that a woman's armor is her presentation." Xiulan adjusted her sleeves.

"Personally, I prefer kicking ass." Feng Yu shrugged. "Looking nice is just a bonus. Who doesn't enjoy being clean?"

Xiulan nodded. Heat crept into her cheeks at the memory of her earlier breakdown. Feng Yu tied on her red sash and secured her sword without comment. Xiulan checked her concealed daggers, ensuring each sat properly against her waist. Together they left the guest house, stepping into the morning air.

A servant in blue robes bowed at the guest house entrance. "Master Qingfeng awaits. Please follow me."

Xiulan recognized the familiar path through the Treasure Pavilion's second floor. Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath her feet as they approached the tea room.

Master Qingfeng sat cross-legged at the low table, steam already rising from his teacup. He gestured to the cushions across from him.

Xiulan settled onto one, smoothing her robes. "Master Qingfeng, I bring a message from Master Yan. He said, 'Please inform Master Qingfeng that Yan Qingshi remembers him. Some of us would welcome his return to active circles.'"

"Thank you for your precision." Master Qingfeng chuckled lightly as he poured fresh tea into two cups. "Pay no mind to that senile master's words."

A weak laugh escaped Xiulan's lips. "Master Qingfeng, forgive my impatience, but I must know about Mei Chen and what has been going on in Blackmere. What news?"

Master Qingfeng lifted the steaming cup to his lips, savoring each sip with infuriating slowness. Xiulan gripped her knees under the table.

"I've discovered information about Mei Chen's condition." Master Qingfeng set his cup down with practiced grace. "Though rare, a solution might exist for her deteriorating state."

Xiulan's fingers dug deeper into her knees. "That sounds like there's a 'but' coming?"

"Indeed. Mei Chen's condition worsens faster than anticipated."

The words sparked inside Xiulan. She shot to her feet, sending her teacup spinning across the polished table. "Then why waste time here drinking tea?"

Silence filled the room as tea dripped onto the floor. Master Qingfeng remained motionless, studying her with unblinking eyes.

"Please forgive my companion." Feng Yu dabbed at the spilled tea with her sleeve. She tugged at Xiulan's robe. "We've endured much since leaving. The strain weighs heavily."

A metallic taste filled Xiulan's mouth as she bit her cheek. She dropped back onto the cushion, arms crossed.

"Youth experiences time differently." Master Qingfeng traced the rim of his cup. "Each moment feels like an eternity, each setback like the end of everything."

Master Qingfeng poured another cup of tea and slid it toward Xiulan. "Your next attempt to help Mei Chen will be your last. She'll either transform into a wrathful spirit or wake up."

"Wrathful spirit?" Feng Yu's brows furrowed. "We've been on a mission to help someone already dead?"

The accusation stung. Xiulan straightened her spine. "She still breathes. Her qi still flows."

Master Qingfeng set his cup down with a soft click. "The chances remain low, but ancient texts suggest her mind might endure. A treatise from beyond the Scorched Lands of Solterra speaks of similar cases—remnants of a long-lost empire to the east."

Xiulan remained still. "That's fascinating, but what do I need to do?"

"You must equalize your qi with hers." Master Qingfeng's expression hardened. "Without succumbing to the yin energy. If you fail, you'll both become wrathful spirits."

"What!" Feng Yu blurted. "That's entirely too reckless—impossible! You can't revive the dead!"

"No." Master Qingfeng smiled thinly. "But you canwake the undead. Mei Chen's spirit is tied to her corpse. She cultivates still. Whatever the result, it will depend on Miss Lin."

Xiulan gripped her teacup. "What about the burning manor in the city? We found a platoon of soldiers slaughtered on the road outside the city, rotting."

"Two black-robed cultivators arrived three days ago." Master Qingfeng frowned, fingers tapping on the table. "They burned the manor, then executed the city magistrate."

"The officials?"

"In complete disarray." Master Qingfeng's fingers stilled. "The pavilion's eyes and ears suggest the Chao family orchestrated this. Their soldiers march toward the county as we speak. At least ten thousand strong."

Cold sweat beaded on Xiulan's forehead. She pressed her palm against her temple as the room spun. Mother. Zhang Wei. The manor. "They must have killed the rest of my family... The manor had no defense against cultivators—"

"No." Master Qingfeng raised his hand. "Word arrived yesterday. The manor repelled an attack. Lady Zhao Lian sent word herself."

"Repelled?" Xiulan blinked rapidly. "How? Did Cousin Min bring reinforcements? A cultivator?" She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "Why aren't they restoring order to the city?"

Master Qingfeng shook his head. "The details remain unclear. The cultivators stumbled back into the city, looking battered before departing. More will come—the Chao family seems determined to eliminate the Lin family entirely. They've abandoned subtlety, using their daughter's murder as justification. I've no word on how they've delayed the provincial prefect from intervening."

Feng Yu straightened. "We need to reach the Lin manor and discover the truth."

"It would be vital, yes." Master Qingfeng nodded. "But Mei Chen's condition takes priority."

Xiulan pushed back from the table. "I'll go now—"

Master Qingfeng raised his hand, cutting her off. "A day of preparation remains essential. And you've yet to fulfill your end of our bargain. Helping with this, to give it even a hope of working, will cost Treasure Pavilion considerable treasure." 

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Given the circumstances, I'll accommodate you before receiving payment, but understand the risk." He stared at Xiulan intently. "This procedure could kill you."

"The pill won't be a problem." Xiulan met his gaze. "While you prepare, I can craft it."

Master Qingfeng's eyebrow arched upward.

"I acquired thunder root in Fershere in addition to the scales from Dawn Valley." Xiulan allowed a small smile to play across her lips.

"I see." Master Qingfeng folded his hands on the table. "You'll need equipment and items to process the pill, since your manor in the city burned."

A sharp pang shot through Xiulan's chest. All those alchemy supplies. Everything I bought... ruined. She pushed aside the sting of loss—the meridian opening pill required minimal tools, anyway.

"I'll be fine." Xiulan straightened her shoulders. "I prefer privacy. No one should steal my secrets."

Feng Yu shot her an incredulous look that screamed did you really just say that out loud?

Master Qingfeng stroked his beard, eyes glinting. "And what if I required those secrets as payment?"

"Haaah..." Xiulan drummed her fingers on the table, mimicking the master's hand earlier. "I might consider it if you personally intervened to stop the Chao family and became my family's patron and protector."

"I would consider such an arrangement." Master Qingfeng's fingers stilled in his beard. "But the Treasure Pavilion elders have placed limitations on me. Interfering with mortal matters at my cultivation level would prove quite self-damaging."

"The young bloods must handle its own affairs before they leave mortality behind..." Feng Yu's words carried a weight of ancient wisdom.

"That is the concept, yes." Master Qingfeng nodded. "The kingdom's guardian spirit enforces this law. We're fortunate such restrictions exist."

Xiulan bowed from her seated position. "I will prepare the item for you at once."

"Young lady." Master Qingfeng's tone sharpened. "Your loss of composure today remains understandable. But you do no favors for your efforts, your family, or those who rely on you by remaining unsettled. Calm is required for nobles and cultivators alike, unless they wish to become unbalanced." 

He tapped the table. "Not everyone proves as understanding as I."

Xiulan bent forward into a deep bow. "I apologize for my earlier behavior."

Master Qingfeng lifted his cup. "The pill will cover the pavilion's assistance with Mei Chen. We'll extend protection to you and any family members within these walls." 

He set the cup down with a soft click. "Beyond them, my hands remain tied."

"Having a safe haven in a storm will always prove valuable." Feng Yu smoothed her sleeves.

Xiulan shot a sidelong glance at her companion and winced. Really? Taking his side? Traitor.

"Speaking of debts." Master Qingfeng's fingers traced the rim of his cup. "You still owe the Treasure Pavilion a favor."

"How could I ever forget such a burden?" Xiulan kept her tone light despite the weight in her chest.

A low chuckle rumbled from Master Qingfeng. "If some burdens prove hard to carry, others might become a blessing. When one floats off toward the sun, what more could they wish for than something to bring them back to safety?"

"We're hardly on a hot-air balloon ride—" Xiulan snapped before catching herself. She pressed her lips together, forcing back the rest of her retort.

Master Qingfeng dismissed them with a casual wave. Xiulan stepped into the hall beside Feng Yu, her boots clicking against the floor.

"Here I thought I enjoyed danger." Feng Yu nudged Xiulan's shoulder. "But you—handling snakes and poking bears seems to be your specialty."

"Ha ha." Xiulan's laugh echoed off the wooden walls.

Feng Yu tilted her head. "What's a hot-air balloon?"

A wince crossed Xiulan's face. "Just an idea. A way mortals might fly someday."

"Huh." Feng Yu studied her. "You always have such special ideas?"

"Maybe." Xiulan adjusted her sleeve.

"So..." Feng Yu lowered her voice. "How do we make this special pill?"

Xiulan glanced around the empty hallway. "The Treasure Pavilion uses recording devices. We need somewhere private. Perhaps the manor?"

"You'll need protection." Feng Yu touched her sword hilt. "Sure you want to risk me learning and memorizing the method?"

"Better you than Master Qingfeng."

"My naïve little martial sister." Feng Yu patted Xiulan's shoulder. "Your trust makes you adorable."

Chapter 53: Standard Pill and Trap

Victory often comes not from overwhelming power, but from understanding how elements interact. Fire melts metal, metal cuts wood, wood splits earth, earth dams water, and water extinguishes fire. Master these principles, and even a weaker cultivator may triumph over a stronger foe.

—Sage Master Liu Yue, Walker of the Midnight Path

Xiulan packed the ingredients with methodical precision. The Dawn Serpent Scales were carefully contained in cloth bags. The blood lotus petals remained in the qi-containing jars provided by Master Qingfeng. She arranged fifty thunder roots in their own wrappings, their energy crackling faintly against her qi-enhanced senses.

Two travel packs absorbed the precious cargo, reinforced with extra padding to prevent any unfortunate bumps. She added a matched pair of razor-sharp preparation knives and a compact spiritual cauldron—simple but effective for the task ahead.

Merchandiser Ming approached with silent steps across the storage room floor, extending a small metal tube toward Xiulan. The silver surface caught the light from nearby spirit stones.

Xiulan frowned. "What's this?"

"If trouble finds you, launch it skyward." Ming tapped the tube. "Long, Mo, and I will come extract you back to the Pavilion."

"Master Qingfeng said that—"

Ming cut her off with a sharp headshake. "The Master can't leave or intervene without risking tribulation. But we're different—I'm only at Qi Refining, and Mo and Long are merely Qi Gathering cultivators. We won't draw the same scrutiny." She pressed the tube firmly into Xiulan's palm. "He won't stand idle while you and Fairy Feng risk death or capture."

"Haa..." Xiulan stared at the signal tube. "I guess he knows what I'm doing even without being told."

Ming smiled warmly. "The Master's age hasn't dulled his perception. If anything, his insight grows sharper."

Footsteps echoed against stone as Feng Yu strode into the storage room. "The manor's perimeter is clear. Two complete circuits and not a soul in sight."

Xiulan's stomach twisted. "Did you find any bodies?"

"A few scattered remains, but far fewer than expected. Most of the servants and soldiers must have fled in time."

"I hope they made it." Xiulan traced her fingers along the signal tube's cool surface.

"Reports never mentioned mass casualties," Ming said. "The survivors likely scattered to safety when the attack began."

Xiulan secured the first pack across her shoulders, adjusting the straps until the weight settled evenly. Feng Yu hoisted the second pack.

The spiritual cauldron's metallic surface gleamed as Xiulan lifted it. "Let's go."

She kept her steps measured as they blended into the sparse foot traffic outside the Treasure Pavilion. The weight of the ingredients pressed against her back, urging her to hurry.

"Are you certain about this?" Feng Yu matched her pace. "An attack could ruin the entire pill-making process."

"I know." Xiulan adjusted her pack strap. "Master Qingfeng will still help if we fail. We'd need to gather ingredients again, but he'll wait." 

She scanned the nearly empty streets. "If we avoid trouble, we complete the pill. If not—we might catch one of these Chao family cultivators. I want answers about what they know."

Feng Yu glanced at her. "Is that why Ming gave you this?"

"Yes. If things turn ugly, they'll extract us."

"I'll do my best then."

"With luck, we'll succeed at both." Xiulan gestured with the spiritual cauldron. "But if the process breaks, we focus on capture."

Feng Yu nodded.

The city streets were hushed. Xiulan studied each alley and rooftop but spotted no observers. Residents hurried past with downcast eyes, their usual energy replaced by tense silence.

The manor's main gate hung askew on broken hinges, its surface blackened and peeled from intense heat. She stepped through the ruined entrance, her boots crunching on scattered debris. 

Charred timbers and collapsed stone walls created a maze of destruction across what had once been pristine grounds. The acrid stench of burnt wood mixed with darker undertones that made her stomach clench.

Half-buried shapes beneath the rubble drew her gaze before she forced herself to look away. The courtyard—where just a week ago she'd shared laughter and food with Feng Yu and Ren Chun—lay buried under a thick blanket of gray ash.

"We'll set up in the back." Xiulan swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat.

"That won't deter them." Feng Yu scanned the area. "They'll just climb over if they want in."

"True. But it should keep civilians and curious onlookers from wandering through."

"I'll find a good vantage point to watch without seeing the pill-making process." Feng Yu adjusted her saber.

"Just focus on capturing anyone who shows up."

"They might not come at all if they took a good beating at your family's manor." Feng Yu passed the second pack to Xiulan. "Here."

"Then we make the pill and return to the Pavilion." Xiulan accepted the pack, setting it beside hers on the ground.

Xiulan swept debris from a flat section of courtyard stone, creating a clean workspace beneath a partially intact wall. The spiritual cauldron settled onto its bronze legs with a solid thunk. She arranged her tools in precise rows—mortar, pestle, knives, and a set of hourglasses.

Perfect spot. Clear view of approaching threats while staying hidden from the street.

A quick scan of the perimeter showed Feng Yu perched on a section of intact roof, saber ready. Xiulan unpacked the ingredients with practiced efficiency, memory taking over from countless hours spent crafting pills in her previous life.

The familiar motions helped steady her nerves as she worked. Each step flowed into the next—processing scales, preparing roots, extracting essence from petals. The spirit stone pulsed with energy as she placed it.

Every few minutes she paused to survey the ruins, tracking shadows and listening for footsteps. The empty manor remained silent except for the crackle of flames beneath her cauldron. Even the city sounds seemed muted, as if holding its breath.

The mixture thickened right on schedule. Xiulan reduced the heat and began the final stirring phase. The liquid shimmered as she poured it into the waiting mold.

"Now we wait." She wiped her brow and settled back to watch the pills solidify.

One hour stood between success and failure.

Xiulan studied the pill mold. A heavy impact would ruin everything now.

She knelt and plunged her fingers into the packed earth, channeling qi to loosen the soil. A neat plug of dirt came free. The pill mold nestled perfectly in the resulting hollow.

She gently tamped the earth back into place and drove her preparation knife deep beside it. The blade's handle would mark the spot clearly against the ash-covered ground.

One by one, she packed away her tools. The spiritual cauldron required extra care—residual heat from the flames still radiated from its bronze surface. It would take hours to cool, so the safe bet would be to have Feng Yu carry it back.

"Xiulan!" her companion's urgent shout cut through the air.

Xiulan twisted, following Feng Yu's pointing finger. A figure in black scaled down the manor's wall. Their outfit matched exactly what she imagined the Whispering Shadows Sect gear looked like—fitted dark cloth that resembled a ninja or something.

A metallic glint flashed. Xiulan stepped sideways as a dart whistled past her ear. She snatched up her spear, scanning the attacker's movements. Their qi pulsed fiercely, much higher than the common bandits they had faced on the road, making their true strength difficult to gauge.

She deflected another dart with her spear's shaft. Feng Yu launched forward off the charred roof, saber drawn.

A second attacker emerged from the shadows. Their chain-sickle whirled through the air toward Feng Yu. She twisted away, but the weapon's chain wrapped around her saber. She angled the blade, letting the chain slip free with a metallic shriek.

A dart streaked toward Feng Yu's exposed side. Xiulan lunged forward, spear extended. The tip knocked the projectile from its path with surgical precision.

"Nice one!" Feng Yu called out.

"Remember—we need one alive!" Xiulan shifted her stance, keeping both attackers in view.

She tracked the hidden weapon expert's movements as Feng Yu engaged the chain-sickle wielder. The black-clad cultivator darted through the rubble, launching a barrage of darts that forced her to constantly adjust her spear's position.

A flash of metal caught her eye as he rushed toward her. She twisted sideways, deflecting three more darts with her spear shaft. The assassin slipped under her guard, closing the distance faster than she anticipated. 

Steel glinted. Pain blazed across her side as she leaped backward. He pursued, pressing the advantage.

Xiulan planted her foot on a chunk of rubble, channeling qi through her meridians. "Water Stepping Foot!"

The ground exploded in a geyser of dirt and stone, catching the assassin full in the face. He staggered back, sputtering. Xiulan thrust her spear into the ground and gathered qi in her palms.

"Thunder God Claps for Arrogant Young Masters!"

The blast wave sent him spinning through the air. He twisted to land in a graceful roll and immediately launched another volley of darts. The projectiles ricocheted off each other, causing them to flash toward her from multiple angles. She struggled to jump into a twist to avoid them.

Sharp pain bloomed as several darts grazed her. Blood trickled down her arms. The earlier slash wound at her side continued bleeding steadily, the flow refusing to slow. Each cut burned with increasing intensity.

Poison. The bastard coated everything with some kind of anticoagulant.

Her opponent switched to maintaining his distance, well outside her technique range. More darts filled the air forcing her to keep moving. Xiulan's qi surged as she deflected another volley with a Thunder Clap. 

She grit her teeth. Her condition was deteriorating. She could feel some of her outer meridians clogging as her physical condition worsened.

She released another offensive qi blast, but he danced away from it, the air only breezing his black outfit.

My qi might be stronger, but what good is that if I can't fucking hit him?

A burst of orange light drew Xiulan's attention. Feng Yu's fire-wreathed sword carved blazing arcs through the air, forcing the chain-sickle cultivator backward. Each slash ignited wooden debris and scattered ash. The assassin kept trying to retreat, but Feng Yu pursued relentlessly.

Sharp pain exploded across Xiulan's cheek as a dart struck home. Blood trickled down her face, burning like acid where the poison touched. She spun back toward her own opponent.

Focus, dammit! Getting distracted will get you killed.

Her spear felt clumsy against such a nimble opponent. She needed something faster, more precise. The twin daggers were her only alternative—though her skills with them remained rudimentary at best. But combined with the new lightning technique she'd used in Dawn Valley...

If I can get airborne while he stays grounded, the electricity will take the path of least resistance. Through him, not me.

Xiulan switched her grip on the spear, advancing with quick steps. She spun the weapon to create a shield of motion that deflected the next barrage of darts. The assassin retreated, but she pressed forward, forcing him to give ground.

Just need to get close enough...

Her spear blurred faster as she drove toward the shadowy cultivator. Blood dripped steadily from her wounds, but she ignored the burning sensation spreading through her meridians.

She forced him between fallen beams and crumbling walls. He darted sideways toward an exit, but her spear whistled through the air, slamming into the stone wall inches from his face. Stone chips exploded outward as he stumbled back and reversed course.

She drew her twin daggers in a smooth motion. Qi surged through her meridians as she channeled yin energy into the left blade and yang into the right. The metal grew hot and cold against her palms.

One second is all I need.

She gathered qi at the precise meridian points she needed to execute Heavenly Two Step. The world blurred as she flashed to the assassin's right, then instantly reappeared on his left. His momentum carried him straight toward her.

Steel rang against steel as he produced twin daggers, barely blocking her strike. The blades locked together with a metallic screech.

Xiulan pushed qi through her meridians, lifting her feet from the ground. The yin and yang energies discharged through their joined weapons. Blue-white electricity arced between the blades with a thunderous crack. Ozone filled the air as the assassin flew backward, slamming into the wall and crumpling to the ground.

The qi drain made her stumble. She hit the floor hard but scrambled up, charging after him. 

He started to rise. Her foot connected between his legs with brutal force.

He screamed and slashed wildly with blackened, smoking hands. She kicked him again and again, desperate to end the fight. He rolled away after a fifth strike, but she pounced, landing on his back.

Her fist drove into his spine. A sickening crack echoed through the ruins. His legs went limp, but his arms still flailed. She grabbed his wrists, yanking them behind his neck and shoving down hard until his struggles became ineffective.

With the assassin pinned beneath her, Xiulan looked up to check on the other fight.

The chain-sickle cultivator and Feng Yu spun through the air, their weapons locked together. Their legs kicked frantically as they twisted and turned, neither able to break free. Neither of them was willing to let go of the other's weapons and the chain had wrapped around their wrists in a macabre binding.

Brilliant orange light blazed across Feng Yu's skin in a sheen before her qi surged outward and flames erupted from her body. 

The chain-sickle cultivator struggled to escape, but their weapons remained fused together. His qi pressed outward in a last ditch defense—Xiulan sensed the distinct resonance of metal element energy attempting to counter the flames.

A fatal mistake.

Even if he had superior meridians and qi force, that meant nothing against the overwhelming heat.

Fire controlled metal.

"Fire Cremation Palm!" Feng Yu's shout rang across the courtyard.

The flames intensified to a searing white-blue, like an acetylene torch cutting through steel. Xiulan turned away as the brilliant light became unbearable. The assassin beneath her thrashed and screamed. A consuming roar whooshed through the air for a second before going silent.

Closing her eyes made the mental visualization of her meridian network painful. Black spots pulsed around the periphery. Blood soaked her robes and dripped onto the pinned cultivator. Her limbs grew heavy as poison worked deeper into her system. She forced her qi to circulate faster, containing the spreading corruption but unable to eliminate it.

The blinding light faded, and she opened her eyes and looked up. Feng Yu dropped what remained of the chain-sickle—now just a misshapen lump of cooling metal that flowed off her saber. The other cultivator's bones clattered to the ground, the rest of him dispersing as ash on the wind.

Well, it was a good thing she captured her opponent, because that one wasn't going to be answering anything.

"Feng Yu!" Xiulan shouted.

Feng Yu strode over and pulled a shimmering golden rope from a hidden pocket. She bound the assassin's hands and feet with practiced efficiency, allowing Xiulan to slump against a broken wall. Blood dripped steadily from her wounds onto the stone floor.

She couldn't just let the exhaustion make her give up. She tore strips from her already ruined robe, trying to wrap the deepest cut on her side. The makeshift bandages soaked through almost instantly. Her fingers trembled as she pressed harder against the wound.

"You need help." Feng Yu knelt beside her.

"No fucking shit I need help." Xiulan gritted her teeth against another wave of burning pain.

Feng Yu grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, pushing her to sit. Warm fingers pressed against specific points along Xiulan's spine. Sharp heat lanced through her meridians like molten metal.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Xiulan squawked and tried to pull away.

"There's spiritual poison preventing your wounds from healing." Feng Yu's fingers continued their methodical path.

More burning sensations pierced through Xiulan's meridians. Each cut required multiple treatments, fire racing through her body with every touch. "Fuck! Shit! Mother-loving son of a—" She bit down on another curse as particularly intense heat seared through her.

The burning gradually subsided. The constant drip of blood slowed to a trickle. Xiulan sagged forward, exhaustion hitting harder than after their journey back from the road.

"You'll need hours to recover from the internal damage," Feng Yu said. "Lucky your main meridians weren't touched. With that much poison, you'd have passed out otherwise."

Xiulan panted and nodded.

"Where did you learn to curse like that?" Feng Yu asked. "I can't imagine it was your family's soldiers they would end up throttled…"

Xiulan winced and let out a pained laugh. "Just… around." She turned toward their captive, who lay bound nearby. "Got any experience with questioning?"

The assassin flopped like a fish, lower body dragging uselessly as he attempted to escape.

A dangerous smile spread across Feng Yu's face. "I have some ideas."

Xiulan glanced over to where she had made the pill.

The knife she had used for chopping the thunder root up was still standing.

So far so good…