Jun made it back to the inn at prime drinking hour. Cultivators were getting off work, and those who secluded themselves in their rooms chose now to come out and relax.

‘Every hour is drinking hour if you’re brave enough. Which I am.’

Unfortunately, his body simply couldn’t handle alcohol. Even a sip would send him hurling vomit across the floor, half-dead from alcohol poisoning. Truly a wretched fate. He didn’t want to experiment with cultivator cocaine just yet, but surely they had to have some better, non-addictive stuff.

The inn was filled with the chaotic ramblings of the regular patrons and a lack of music. Jun missed the bard. He got chased out after one of the customers caught him sleeping with his Dao partner. As it turned out, it wasn’t just one customer. It was pretty much all of them. It was an even more impressive feat considering that this place belonged to the Lu family and the bard now had numerous assassins after his life.

Jun chuckled at the situation, going to his usual table. Chen Hao was back from work, sullenly peering into his water cup as He Ming curiously waited for the results.

“A neutral feeling for the assassination contract,” Chen Hao sighed, gazing at a circular obsidian house in the undersect.

“Finally. It’s been a week of bad foretellings.” He Ming said, a sly grin on his face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Do you have to? You can live comfortably off thieving jobs. Just because this man offended the Lu family doesn’t mean he has to die,” Chen Hao glared at He Ming, but that did nothing to persuade the man.

“You’re going to preach morals again when you’re planning murder yourself?”

“It’s different,” the boy sighed. He Ming laughed.

The master thief hadn’t changed much in the months. His cultivation was deeper and his daggers more lethal, but the man remained as cynical as ever. His ideals were rooted deep in struggle and sorrow, and when the two boys clashed, it was He Ming who changed Chen Hao, not the other way around. Just the fact that the boy even entertained assassination contracts was proof enough.

“You don’t know what the man has done. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe not. Either way, I don’t care. A job is a job.”

And with that, He Ming was gone, swallowed up by the shadows. It was a truly devious technique that Jun still hadn’t found a way to counteract. Well, it didn’t matter even if Jun found a way. The boy could slit their throats anytime he desired.

Seeing He Ming vanish, Chen Hao sat perfectly still, engrossed in his thoughts. His skin was completely pale, and specs of black were mixed in his golden hair as if it were darkness corroding the light. A faint frown on his face, when combined with his cold and piercing yet oddly hypnotic gaze, made sure to keep everyone unfamiliar at bay. He idly tapped the table as he thought, his fingers moving with lithe agility and unnatural grace.

“The damn cultivation technique made him into a K-Pop star. If it wasn’t for the cold demeanour, women would be flocking towards him, getting charged with crimes they would willingly commit.”

The thought scared him slightly. There was a dramatic change in Chen Hao’s appearance when he reached the third stage of Qi Refining and the Ninth Abyss Lake Art. Still, the boy could protect himself properly now. He had been sparring every night with He Ming, and Jun certainly wouldn’t like to be either’s opponent.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“You’re back. Did you have fun?” Chen Hao said as he picked up Jun.

“I smashed my head against rocks all day. What do you think?” he barked back.

“Sometimes it does feel like you’re talking back to me,” the brat said, putting Jun in his lap and aggressively petting him. His hands were deathly cold.

“You’re ten years too young to figure out your Grandpa Jun’s schemes.”

The boy didn’t respond. Instead, the image in the cup rippled, revealing another stone house. The scene flickered, and they found themselves staring at a large bedroom. A large, roaring fireplace crackled with bright red flames, distorting the air around it. Nearby, candles burned inside a candlestick, shedding shadow instead of light.

He stared at the scene until the door leading to the room opened, quickly dismissing the image.

“What’s the verdict?” He Ming said, looking over the boy’s shoulder. His arrival made both of them jump.

“Still negative, but I have a feeling the day is approaching rapidly. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.”

He Ming nodded, appearing to be calm, but Jun heard his erratic breathing. The boy smelled of blood and worry.

“How did it go?”

“He was hiding his cultivation. The bastard dodged my sneak attack. Fortunately, he was dumb enough to chase me, and I led him straight into a trap. If this was the result of your neutral reading, then I probably would’ve been gravely injured any other day.”

Chen Hao nodded, though his mood turned for the worse.

“It still could have ended badly. The technique only accounts for any unforeseen surprises.”

The ability in question was the Water Mirror Technique. Chen Hao had used it almost obsessively throughout these months and had reached a sort of proficiency with it. Now, if he conjured the location and imagined the course of action, he could get a vague prediction of fate, though it only ranged from positive, neutral, and negative forecasts. Perhaps in the future, he would be able to read the severity of it or read a person’s fate in general.

“So... It’s soon. Are you ready?” He Ming asked.

“No. I wouldn’t be ready even if you gave me five years. However, I think you’re right. It’s going to take me months before I can reach the next stage.” The boy sighed once again. He had been doing that a lot lately.

“We’ve gone over this countless times. The plan has a good chance of success.”

“I sure hope so.” Chen Hao said. “It would be a lot easier with your help. I’ve helped you numerous times during these months. Can you do me this one favour?”

“And rob you of your revenge? No. I would never dare. This is the culmination of your struggles so far. If you are not capable of doing this alone, then maybe you don’t deserve to regain your freedom.”

The words were harsh. Unnecessarily so. Chen Hao went silent, lowering his head and looking down at Jun. He could see the hurt, the betrayal in the boy’s eyes.

He Ming clicked his tongue and leaned on the table.

“I will not help you, but if you do not succeed, you are welcome to come back here. Liu Wei will protect you,” he said, motioning towards the kitchen. “He’s much stronger than he looks, but nothing in this world is for free. There will be a price.”

The conversation died down, and He Ming went back to serving tables. Almost as a nervous habit, Chen Hao once again peered into the water cup, examining the route he was going to take and spying on the house. He did so until his inner qi ran out and he had to meditate. Again and again, he repeated this cycle, his hands shaking with nervousness. The boy reeked of stress.

Later that night, Jun watched He Ming and Chen Hao spar. Even Liu Wei came out of his kitchen to give the two tips. The night was laden with anticipation, making it hard for those involved to fall asleep. The dog wandered for half the night, checking his preparations just in case things went incredibly wrong.

When dawn arrived and the first rays of light washed over the sect, Chen Hao stood up from his bed and peered down at the basin of water. Once again, his target was the house. The water rippled, each distortion symbolising the vague undercurrents of fate.

The boy closed his eyes. When he opened them, they burned with determination.

Today was the day he was going to kill the butcher.