In the weeks since his duel with that upstart, Mo Zhiqiang had spent nearly half of his accumulated wealth on sending other disciples after him. At least half the wealth the craven bandit hadn’t stolen from him. He Yu. The mere thought of the name caused heat to rush up his neck. Mo Zhiqiang clenched his fist, crushing the jar of wine in his hand. At least it had been empty.

Late Body Refining. He’d been a full stage ahead of that peasant when he issued his challenge. Not only had He Yu beaten him—and in front of several other inner disciples—but he’d since advanced to the late Third Realm himself. Mo Zhiqiang may have his pride, but he wasn’t stupid. If he couldn’t before, there was no way he’d be able to beat He Yu now.

That thought infuriated him. What was the point of wealth, status, and cultivation, if he could simply be humbled by some bandit commoner? He could have spit blood at the thought. Instead, he pulled another jar of wine from his storage treasure.

It was late afternoon, and the sun had just disappeared behind the westernmost slopes of the Shrouded Peaks. As the light faded, Mo Zhiqiang didn’t bother to send qi into the formation script that would light the lanterns in his courtyard. As a Third Realm immortal, he could see well enough by only the light spilling out from inside his home. The dark suited his mood better anyway. He was drunk, and intended to stew on his losses.

A crash came from the front of his home. The sound of heavy wooden gates slamming against stone as they crashed open. Footsteps.

Mo Zhiqiang stood. A brief pulse of qi banished the effects of the wine. His spear—a pale imitation of the one that had been stolen—fell into his hands. Three figures emerged into his courtyard. Their spirits remained muted and they carried no weapons, but Mo Zhiqiang knew well enough how little that meant.

Two men and a woman. A mismatched trio, so far as Mo Zhiqiang was concerned. One of the men—the only one worth notice in his estimation—was clearly of status. He wore well-made clothes and had his hair properly held back with a crown hairpin that allowed it to cascade freely down his back. Even his posture demonstrated refinement as he folded his hands within the sleeves of his outer robe.

The second man was little more than a ruffian. He wasn’t entirely dressed like one, but any disciple of the inner sect could at least afford some decent clothes. No, it was the way he swaggered when he walked, the way his grin made him look disrespectful and smug. The way he leaned against an unlit stone lantern. He’d been a thug before coming to the sect and remained a thug still. It seemed you could take the rat out of the city.

Finally his eyes fell upon the woman. She was small and all sharp angles. Granted she was of at least middling beauty, being a cultivator, but nothing to write a poem about. Her clothes were rather boyish, though. They left her arms bare, and he could see her firm muscles. That made her even more distasteful in his eyes. A woman should make an effort to appear soft. Even if she was a cultivator and could punch a hole through an ordinary stone wall.

Oddly enough, it seemed the female disciple was the leader of the three, rather than the man of status. At least judging by the way they’d arranged themselves. She stood closest to Mo Zhiqiang, with the two men on either side and slightly behind. Crossing her arms and leaning her head slightly to the side, she looked down her nose at him despite being more than a full head shorter. Everything about her posture and expression radiated arrogance.

“This him?” she asked.

“Yes, Lady Sha,” said the better-dressed of her companions in a tone that sounded a touch more deferential than seemed appropriate to Mo Zhiqiang’s ears.

“Tell me what you want, and be gone,” Mo Zhiqiang sniffed. “You’ve invaded my home and ruined my evening. I ought to teach the three of you a lesson.”

The third man pushed off the lantern he’d been leaning against. A pair of hatchets fell into his hands. “Shut your mouth. All you nobles are soft. We’re here to talk, but we can make things difficult for you whenever we want.”

The woman, Lady Sha, held up a hand to silence her companion. It confirmed Mo Zhiqiang’s suspicion that she was in charge, but she was certainly no lady in his eyes, regardless of whether she walked the Way. She carried herself little better than the thug behind her, and she hadn’t asked for a meeting as would have been proper. The name did sound familiar, though.

“Bao is right,” she said, still looking as though she were ready for a fight despite claims to the contrary. “I’m not gonna waste time bullshitting around. You’re the one who keeps sending people after He Yu. Knock it off.”

“I see,” Mo Zhiqiang said, adopting a slightly less relaxed stance. He still kept his qi restrained, but he was now convinced that it would come to violence. “How much did he pay you? I can match whatever he’s offering. Beat it, even. Go after him instead, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

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

“You fucking idiot,” the Sha woman sneered, dispelling any questions of whether or not she was truly a lady. She stepped forward, uncrossing her arms and balling her hands into fists. “I’m not interested in your money. I want you to stop throwing advancement resources at him. I’ll make you stop if I have to.”

A portion of her qi flared out then. She didn’t fully release her spirit, but it was enough for Mo Zhiqiang to get a sense of her presence. She was molten earth, sulfurous smoke, and dark, angry flame. A danger lurked in her spirit—not killing intent. Something else. Something that made him shudder involuntarily.

He remembered her, then. Sha Xiang. She had lost to He Yu in the tournament. She had also advanced since then, as far as he could tell, and was now late Body Refining.

“Lady Sha,” said the only of her companions that had any manners. “If I may, this is precisely the sort of situation for which you enlisted my aid.”

Sha Xiang turned to look at her companion. She remained silent for a moment, but then she relaxed. “Knock yourself out.”

Stepping forward, her companion gave Mo Zhiqiang a salute and a polite bow. “Sect Brother Mo, I am Da Ning, second son of Count Da Chao. As Lady Sha has indicated, we have come to ask that you cease your ill-advised campaign against Sect Brother He. I’ve no doubt you’re aware that your efforts in this have been futile thus far. Cease providing him with advancement resources. Should you fail to comply, we will be forced to use violence.”

“Well, at least one of you knows how to conduct themselves,” Mo Zhiqiang said. He relaxed then and sent his spear back to his storage treasure. It had been a bluff anyway. As confident as he may have been in his cultivation, there was no way he’d be able to take on all three of them at once. Even if he could, the fight would destroy his home, and he had absolutely zero interest in that happening.

As the tension drained from the air in his garden, Mo Zhiqiang regarded the three of them. That Bao fellow—Cui family he recalled, whoever they were—still looked ready for a fight, but Sha Xiang had visibly relaxed. She’d taken up a posture similar to the thug, leaning against a pillar rather than a lamp. Neither of them showed even half the respect expected of guests in someone’s home.

“Why should I?” Mo Zhiqiang asked, crossing his arms. He directed his question at Da Ning, the only one of the three who was anything close to reasonable. “He humiliated me. I will have my pride back, one way or another. If I have to throw the entire inner sect at him to get it, I will do so.”

Like the Da, the Mo family was of comital status. However, the Mo family was incredibly wealthy. Wealthier than some of the lesser ducal clans, even. He could simply ask for any amount of spirit stones he wanted, and within a couple of weeks, he would have them. Add that to his habit of taking easy but well-paying jobs for the sect, he had more than enough wealth to get what he wanted. Eventually.

“Told you talking was pointless,” Cui Bao said. “Let’s just beat him down, wreck his stuff, and take whatever has any value. If he keeps sending people after He Yu, we can just do it again.”

“I believe you were interested in making inroads with other members of the inner sect, were you not, Lady Sha? This is a clear opportunity to do so,” Da Ning said.

Sha Xiang looked between her two companions. Then, she looked as though she were listening to something far off. She shook her head, then muttered something under her breath. Mo Zhiqiang frowned. What an odd woman.

“I’ll give him one chance to listen. Then we go with Bao’s idea.”

“If you think—” Mo Zhiqiang began, but Da Ning cut him off.

“I suggest you take the opportunity to hear us out, Sect Brother Mo. And to consider yourself fortunate that you’ve even been given such an opportunity to begin with.”

Mo Zhiqiang’s frown deepened. He did not care for the way he was being spoken to. Da Ning may have been of equal social standing, but Mo Zhiqiang was still over twenty ranks higher within the inner sect. The only reason he was entertaining any of this was due to the hanging threat of violence and the fact he was outnumbered.

“Speak, then,” he said.

Da Ning gave another salute. “We are looking to forge alliances with like-minded individuals,” he began. “For our own reasons, all three of us have grudges with He Yu or his companions. The concentration of talent around him is, to put it bluntly, troubling. Even if they don’t expand their numbers, they will quickly form a powerful group within the inner sect.”

“Who exactly are his companions?” Mo Zhiqiang asked. He knew of the Li scion, of course. But the way Da Ning spoke made it sound like He Yu had other allies besides.

“The most notable of his allies are Li Heng of the Western Passage and Princess Tan Xiaoling of the Jade Kingdom. Yan Shirong is the son of a minor comital house, but his family is well-placed within the Ministry of Information. I don’t think I need to elaborate on why that might become a problem in the future. Finally, there is the common girl Chen Fei. She comes from the outskirts of the empire and is practically a barbarian. Despite this, she has managed to roughly keep pace with the rest, and is good friends with Princess Tan.”

Mo Zhiqiang recalled the inner sect tournament. Princess Tan was a monster, of that much he was certain. He’d seen her fight against He Yu. It had been spectacular, and as expected the commoner had lost. That loss had been much of the reason that he had thought He Yu would be an easy fight. Now that he thought about it though, He Yu had stood against her better than anyone else in the tournament. Including the Li scion.

The rest? They’d all failed to make an impression on him. He did understand what Da Ning meant about the Ministry of Information, however. The barbarian girl? Some talent with formations, as far as he recalled. Nobody to concern himself with.

“I think you’re giving them too much credit,” Mo Zhiqiang said.

“Then breaking them would be easy, no?” Da Ning countered. “But you’ve failed to do so on your own. Whatever trash you’ve sent so far has only enriched your enemy. Hardly a sound strategy.”

“What do you propose instead, then?” Mo Zhiqiang asked. Although, he had a fairly good idea of where this was going.

Sha Xiang spoke up then. “Join us. Stop throwing away spirit stones. We can help you get the strength you need.”

Mo Zhiqiang didn’t need to think the offer over. Get revenge for his humiliation, and keep his wealth? He liked the sound of that.