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Xiulan knelt beside the bound assassin. Assassin was a good word for him. "Do you work for the Chao family?"

"No." The cultivator spat blood onto the ground.

Feng Yu’s boot connected with his ribs. He wheezed but maintained his defiant glare.

Xiulan winced internally, but she had already steeled herself to adding torture to her list of crimes. She rifled through the man’s robes, finding an embroidered symbol hidden in the inner lining. Madam Zhang’s beloved crest from her family stared back at her, written in black thread on black fabric. "Interesting choice of tailor. Their shop does quality work."

The assassin’s eyes widened before narrowing to slits.

"How many more cultivators are with you?" Xiulan pressed.

"I work alone," the lie fell from his lips.

Feng Yu knelt down and struck several points along his back. Lancing his meridians? The assassin screamed, body convulsing against his bonds.

"Try again." Xiulan kept her voice level.

"I’m just—" Another precise strike cut him off. "Fine! I’m a scout. More are coming. You’ll all die like dogs!" He panted heavily.

"When? What’s the attack plan?"

"An army approaches." The assassin choked through bloodied teeth. He tried to laugh but only ended up wheezing.

"Specifics. Now." Xiulan leaned closer.

Silence answered. Feng Yu stepped back, shaking her head slightly.

"What cultivation levels should we expect?" The question hung in the air as the assassin choked and gasped.

"Don’t bother." Feng Yu crossed her arms. "Your strike shattered his dantian along with his spine earlier. He won’t last much longer."

Xiulan sat back on her heels. They’d learned nothing new, but at had at least confirmed a few things. She drew her dagger and granted him a swift end.

Monster. Her teeth clenched. I’m not. He was an enemy.

"Did the pill survive all that?" Feng Yu asked.

"We still need thirty minutes." Xiulan wiped her blade clean.

Xiulan watched Feng Yu brush soot from her singed robes. Her sword remained pristine, but everything else showed battle damage. How did her clothes survive that inferno at all? There must be some cultivation technique for fire users to avoid burning through their wardrobe.

Her fallen hourglass caught her attention. Xiulan righted it, resetting the time measurement. The waiting gnawed at her nerves. Her cuts stung and itched beneath her robes. A glance at Feng Yu revealed not a single scratch despite the fiercer battle she’d fought.

"I should meditate." Xiulan settled into a cross-legged position.

"I’ll keep watch." Feng Yu moved to patrol the ruins.

Xiulan closed her eyes and directed her qi flow. Instead of the usual highways between main meridians, she attempted to wind the energy through the outer channels where the poison damage had accumulated. The qi fought against her the more complex the path she tried to force. A grunt escaped her lips as she struggled to maintain control.

Feng Yu made it look effortless—those precise turns her qi thread made, dancing exactly where she wanted it. The realization struck hard.

Her shortcut to perfect meridians had left a crucial gap in her skills. The straightforward patterns she relied on worked fine for simple techniques involving twenty or thirty points. The Heavenly Two Step combined with her ’Stun Gun’ had pushed those limits.

She needed to practice yet another thing…

The thought brought frustration. Since becoming a cultivator, time for practice, learning, and training had been in short supply. Crisis after crisis had stolen any chance.

There had never been time to breathe. Nor did it look like she would get any before things came to a head.

Was this karma finally catching up to her?

"It’s time." Feng Yu’s touch broke through her thoughts.

Xiulan opened her eyes and nodded. Great, even the half hour of meditation had just turned into an unhelpful self-therapy session.

At least she had time-skipped the wait.

Xiulan gripped the earthen plug with steady fingers. The clay felt warm against her skin as she eased it free from the hole. She opened the mold with practiced precision.

Golden light spilled out from her fingers.

"You did it!" Feng Yu stepped closer, amber eyes reflecting the glow.

"Of course." Xiulan held the large pill up, examining its perfectly smooth surface. "The real question was whether our little skirmish had ruined everything."

Feng Yu laughed—a clear, bright sound that echoed off the manor’s walls.

The completed pill radiated power, but Xiulan’s excitement faded as she studied it.

The golden sphere represented more than just payment for the Treasure Pavilion’s aid. In the large scheme of things, she was nothing special. All her power had basically sprouted from this cheat item.

Now that she had made another, if someone took it, they would steal that uniqueness. Families that wanted the best for their scions—old masters who wanted to give their students a head start—would stop at nothing for such an item.

A chill ran down her spine. Master Qingfeng’s eagerness took on a darker meaning. If word spread about her exclusive Golden Meridian Opening pill-crafting abilities, she’d become a target. Without significant backing or power, she’d end up trapped—forced to produce pills for whoever held the most leverage.

It wasn’t like she had ignored that. The thought had sat in the back of her mind the entire time. But now that she had the pill in hand, that danger suddenly felt much more relevant. It was just that she didn’t really have much of a choice, did she?

Her cards weren’t great, and she couldn’t abandon Mei Chen. Not after… Not after so much had happened…

The golden light dimmed slightly as she slipped it into a silk pouch. Even Master Qingfeng, for all his polite merchant manners, might decide she was too valuable to let go.

Xiulan stared at the glowing silk. Her earlier breakdown at the Treasure Pavilion replayed in her mind—screaming at Master Qingfeng, demanding answers about Mei Chen. Heat crept up her neck. Such a display of weakness could prove fatal in this world of cultivation and intrigue.

Feng Yu smiled at her from across the room. The expression seemed genuine, but doubt suddenly gnawed at Xiulan’s thoughts. In the game—no, in this world—alliances shifted like desert sands. Today’s friend became tomorrow’s betrayer. The game’s Open PvP nature and lore had been in agreement, and had taught her that lesson repeatedly.

I can’t trust anyone completely. The thought was active acid in her heart.

Shame burned in her chest. She’d taken shortcuts—exploited her ’friends’ to jumpstart her cultivation. A fraudulent feeling clung like poison. Monster.

Was it even enough?

Xiulan tucked the glowing silk container into a hidden pocket sewn beneath her outer robe. "Let’s hurry back. We’ve accomplished everything here."

"Wait." Feng Yu stepped forward. "I found something while you meditated." She extended a wooden box coated in gray ash.

Recognition struck Xiulan like a physical blow. Jin Wei’s medicine pill box. The healing pills he’d given her had sat forgotten through everything that happened. She lifted the lid with trembling fingers, revealing the small medicinal pills nestled inside.

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The ones that had failed to save Mei Chen.

Images of Mei Chen’s still form flashed through her mind. The bitter taste of the medicine’s failure rose in her throat. Xiulan drew a sharp breath and forced the memories down, locking them away.

I can save her now. That’s what matters.

Xiulan snapped the box shut and stowed it in her pack. The pills might prove useful later—she’d blocked them from her mind completely before, but that was just another weakness. Whether from trauma or foolishness, she couldn’t say.

It was a weakness to discard.

"Let’s go." Xiulan stood up and strode toward the burnt manor’s destroyed gate, leading the way back to the Treasure Pavilion.

Instead of taking a quiet route back, Xiulan led them up to the rooftops.

The Heavenly Two Step technique made quick work of the distance, transforming what should have been a short walk into a mad rush.

If she couldn’t find time for training, what if she just turned everything into training? Using the technique was good practice.

Plus, if there were more assassins they would have a hard time intercepting.

Martial Brothers Mo and Long spotted their approach, swinging open the postern gate before they touched down.

Inside the courtyard, Merchandiser Ming stood ready. The silver-haired woman had traded her merchant’s dignity for a more militant stance, twin knives gleaming at her waist. Behind her, a dozen Treasure Pavilion employees gripped an array of weapons.

Xiulan’s stomach twisted. The display of force spoke volumes about their expectations. Whether that was because they were expecting to rush and rescue Feng Yu and her, or preparation for the incoming Chao Family army, it wasn’t clear.

"Any success?" Ming’s fingers drummed against one knife hilt.

"We managed." Xiulan pulled out her silk pouch to show off the golden light before returning it to her pocket. "Had some uninvited guests, but nothing we couldn’t handle."

"Excellent. Master Qingfeng awaits your arrival. Shall I escort you now?"

Xiulan glanced at Feng Yu’s battle-damaged attire. Soot and torn fabric wouldn’t help their concentration during the delicate procedure ahead. "A brief stop to clean up first."

"The guest quarters and robes remain complimentary." Ming smiled politely. "Though you might consider investing in your own wardrobe soon."

"Once things settle down." Xiulan brushed ash from her sleeve.

"I have several spiritually enhanced sets that would suit your needs perfectly."

"Oh?" Feng Yu’s laugh echoed across the courtyard. "And how many spirit stones would those cost?"

"Much less than Miss Lin’s substantial account balance." Ming’s eyes sparkled.

Xiulan released a weak laugh. The value of her promissary note must have filtered through the pavilion already. "Later, we’ll deal."

Merchandiser Ming waved them on and Xiulan turned toward the guest quarters, Feng Yu falling into step beside her.

It only took half an hour for them to wash.

Xiulan studied her reflection in the polished bronze mirror. Fresh robes draped perfectly across her shoulders. The borrowed clothing carried a subtle fragrance of mountain herbs—likely treated with preservation techniques.

She withdrew one of Jin Wei’s healing pills from the wooden box. The small sphere glowed with a faint blue tinge. She swallowed it without difficulty.

Unlike her previous experience with it, her qi sensitivity revealed the pill’s essence spreading through her meridians. She guided the healing energy with precise control, accelerating the natural process. Her cuts and bruises faded within minutes, leaving unmarred skin behind.

Maintaining the myth of spotless and unblemished fairies was fated to be an ongoing effort.

Xiulan glanced at the dressing table. An empty box with velvet lining waited for her. She removed the Golden Meridian Opening Pill from her silk pouch and placed it inside and then snapped the box shut.

She traced the embroidered edges of the box before securing it within her robes. It settled with a weight that made her feel purpose as she adjusted her daggers into her sash.

Feng Yu finished adjusting her own borrowed attire. The pristine sword hanging at her side completed the image of an untouchable immortal. No trace remained of their earlier battle.

"Ready?" Feng Yu asked.

Xiulan nodded. It was time to face Master Qingfeng—and decide Mei Chen’s fate.

Xiulan slid the velvet box across Master Qingfeng’s tea table. The rich fabric caught the lantern light, casting subtle shadows across the carved surface.

Master Qingfeng opened the box with careful precision. He lifted the golden pill, holding it up to catch the light. The pill radiated a soft glow that reflected in his eyes. "Remarkable."

He returned the pill to its velvet nest and closed the box with a gentle click. "I suspected you spoke truth about your abilities, but seeing a third pill of this quality confirms your story beyond doubt."

"Mei Chen?" Xiulan leaned forward, forcing herself to remain still despite the urgency burning through her.

Master Qingfeng reached beneath his desk and produced four items—a pair of thick golden bracelets that seemed to pulse, and two amber-colored stones that gleamed with an inner fire. All of it radiated with intense yang. He turned toward Feng Yu. "Would you be willing to assist as well?"

Feng Yu straightened her spine. "I will help for Xiulan."

Master Qingfeng picked up one of the amber crystals and extended it to Feng Yu. "You and I will need to assist by channeling the yang crystal’s energy into her."

He lifted the golden bracelets and turned toward Xiulan. "These will fortify your constitution against the yin energy. Without them, you’ll be overwhelmed—and I’d rather not deal with two wrathful spirits. I do not want to be forced to repair the forging room again."

"Again?" Xiulan raised an eyebrow.

"Mei Chen woke once. The commotion was... substantial."

Xiulan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t mentioned this before. What else hadn’t he mentioned.

She drew in a slow breath, forcing down the familiar surge of anxiety that had consumed their last meeting. Panic leads to mistakes. Stay focused. "I admit I would like to proceed immediately if that’s the case."

"Indeed." Master Qingfeng nodded. "We’ve faced enough delays. Come."

Feng Yu and Xiulan followed him down the corridor toward the forging room.

"Master Qingfeng," Feng Yu spoke up. "With your cultivation level, wouldn’t you be better suited to perform the qi exchange?"

"Mei Chen’s spirit accepts Xiulan’s qi willingly. For others, she resists. My intervention would only cause damage."

Feng Yu cast a worried glance at Xiulan.

Xiulan kept her eyes locked on the approaching door. The concern was touching, but… No room for doubt now.

A chill crept through the air as they approached the doors. She suppressed a shiver.

Master Qingfeng pushed the golden doors wide. A frigid blast swept across Xiulan’s face, carrying the sharp scent of frost. The room beyond reeked of prior violence—shattered gilding and twisted bronze artifacts littered the floor. Crystalline ice coated every surface, negating the yang energy that should have permeated the chamber.

It didn’t look like the repairs had been very thorough. The cost to restore everything would be… signifigant.

Xiulan’s fingers brushed the empty pocket where the golden meridian opening pill had rested. At least its value had bought them this chance.

Her gaze found Mei Chen and her breath caught. The peaceful repose she’d expected was replaced by brutal restraint—golden shackles encased both wrists and ankles, binding the young maid to float in the air.

"What..." The word escaped before Xiulan could stop it.

"A necessary precaution." Master Qingfeng stepped forward. "We must begin immediately after releasing her, before she wakes again."

Xiulan swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat.

Master Qingfeng flicked his wrist. Three cushions sailed through the doorway from the main pavilion, arranging themselves in a triangle that pointed toward Mei Chen. The heavy doors slammed shut behind them with a pulse of qi.

Master Qingfeng turned to Feng Yu. "You know how to join a formation?"

Feng Yu nodded.

"I’ve never..." Xiulan started.

"Less concerning." Master Qingfeng cut her off. "You’ll form the center. We channel to you. Focus only on Mei Chen. There is no real guidance for what you must do. Follow what feels right."

Yang surged through the golden bracelets as Xiulan slipped them onto her wrists. Warmth flooded her meridians, spreading through her entire body like liquid sunlight. The sensation reminded her of a summer afternoon.

A proper explanation would be nice. But time pressed against them like a physical weight. Xiulan stepped toward Mei Chen’s suspended form.

The shackles yielded with surprising ease—a simple press and click released each restraint. Xiulan caught Mei Chen’s descending form and guided her onto the stone slab. Despite the supernatural cold radiating from her body, Mei Chen’s skin remained oddly pliant beneath Xiulan’s touch, like freshly fallen snow that hadn’t yet crystallized.

Rapid breaths escaped the girl’s lips in visible puffs of frigid air. The surrounding temperature dropped further with each exhale.

"We’ll establish the array first." Master Qingfeng’s words cut through the chill. "Then you should proceed as before, but maintain the connection until yang and yin equalize through both of you."

Xiulan knelt on the cushion beside Mei Chen and wrapped her fingers around the girl’s left wrist. The vast reservoir of yin qi within nearly stole her breath—what leaked into the forging room was merely a drop compared to a frozen ocean. The sheer volume of energy felt like an entire continent of ice pressed into a human form.

Are we trying to melt Antarctica here? If we’d started sooner... no, focus on now.

"You can do this." Feng Yu’s steady voice carried from behind. "Don’t worry."

"Hah..." Xiulan managed a weak laugh. "With your belief in me, maybe it’s true."

"Let us begin." Master Qingfeng’s command rang through the chamber.