A soft rain fell over Lenghu city. Zhang Lifen twirled her parasol as raindrops pattered against the waxed paper. It was good fortune that the weather had favored her so. Since manifesting her Nascent Soul, it had become nearly impossible to suppress her qi enough that she could pass unnoticed. The rain would mask some of that, while also keeping most mortals off the streets despite being the middle of the day.

A particularly observant mortal might notice how her steps seemed to leave no ripples in the shallow puddles that dotted Lenghu’s paved streets. How the rain seemed to leave her gown dry. How she moved with an apparent fluid slowness that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for natural anymore. It was a given that anyone who’d been awakened would mark her with only a casual glance.

That was fine. She had no pressing reason to hide herself. It was simply the courteous thing to do, to restrain one’s spirit when among mortals.

For the better part of the morning, she’d been going in and out of flophouses, tea rooms, and restaurants—anywhere she could think of where people were likely to gather. That her search had turned up nothing had surprised her. How had nobody noticed a Third Realm cultivator recently come to the city?

Then, she spoke to the owner of a small noodle shop. He had seen someone matching Xiao Jun’s description a day prior but had insisted that the man in question was a mortal. With his shadow-aspected qi, Xiao Jun would have nearly as easy a time hiding himself as she did, but the man should have noticed something. She had expected Xiao Jun to enter Lenghu and immediately begin throwing his weight around. Instead, he seemed to be keeping himself beneath notice.

She thanked the noodle shop owner and gave him a sack of coins for his trouble. Probably more money than he’d see in ten years running his shop, but a pittance to her. He could tell stories to his children about the immortal who graced him with good fortune in exchange for revealing that someone new had come to town. For revealing that someone had begun associating with a gang that ran one of the slums near the city wall.

As Zhang Lifen neared the area she’d been directed to, she noted that “slum” was almost too generous. Shantytown? Ruin? Trash-heap? The buildings here looked half-rotted, and the eyes and cheeks of those few mortals she saw were sunken and hollow. This was the sort of area that, had she been a mortal woman, she wouldn’t have dreamed of setting foot in. At least not without a company of guards.

Her fine clothes, her visible expensive jewelry, her aristocratic bearing—it would have marked her as an easy target for violence in a place like this. Dogs like these could sense danger though, and most either avoided her gaze or shuffled away at her passing.

She rounded a corner and caught sight of several young men wearing the yellow sashes around their waists that the noodle shop owner had told her to look out for. They loitered beneath a partially collapsed overhang, gambling. When she drew near, they looked up, their expressions equal parts wary and appraising.

“Xiao Jun,” she said. “Bring him to me.”

The ruffian closest to her pulled out a large knife and made a show of cleaning his fingernails. “Don’t know who that is, and don’t like taking orders from someone who doesn’t know where they are.”

“He is here,” came a tired yet familiar voice from deeper within the dilapidated building. “Why have you come, Zhang Lifen? To mock me?”

When Xiao Jun stepped out to present himself, Zhang Lifen arched her brows at what she saw. He was dressed in the same ragged clothes as his associates, complete with a yellow sash around his waist. His hair was worn in a bun, rather than the looser more flowing style from when he was back at the sect. He looked awful.

“Don’t gotta answer to the likes of someone all high and mighty like her, boss,” another of the ruffians said.

Zhang Lifen idly wondered why he was associating with dregs like these. She appraised Xiao Jun with her spiritual sight and immediately learned why. His dantian had been severely damaged, along with his meridians. He was, for all purposes, a spiritual cripple.

He had reached Body Refining before the damage had been done, however, so he’d be stronger and more durable than most mortals. He’d also spent years training to fight, so he’d likely be more skilled than any of them, too. That would explain how he managed to establish himself so quickly, even without a cultivation base.

“Leave her,” Xiao Jun snapped. A few wisps of qi leaked from his damaged dantian as he cycled a pitiful amount to his limbs in the approximation of a rudimentary body enforcement technique.

“Ah,” Zhang Lifen said. “It seems you aren’t fully crippled after all. Whoever did this to you gave you the chance to perhaps one day restore your cultivation. How kind of them.”

“You can’t talk to the boss like that,” the ruffian with the knife said, taking a step forward.

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Zhang Lifen snapped her parasol closed. It wasn’t a proper weapon, and the formation script it contained was really only meant to make it better at holding up to heavy rain. But it could handle more than enough of her qi to deal with a few mortals. She thrust the parasol like a sword and struck the one holding the knife. The wooden cap at the end of the parasol smashed into his wrist. He screamed and dropped the knife as a dozen tiny bones shattered.

A second had already started moving towards her with a makeshift club. Before the knife from the first one hit the ground, Zhang Lifen had already tossed the second across the street. By now the remaining ruffians had realized what was happening and froze, casting uncertain glances at Xiao Jun.

“The rest of you except Xiao Jun may leave unharmed,” Zhang Lifen said. “I only have business with him.”

“And just like that, I have nothing once again,” Xiao Jun sighed as his former allies abandoned him.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before selling yourself to the Sunset Court,” Zhang Lifen said. She stepped under the overhang before banishing her parasol and folding her sleeves within her gown.

“So you did know,” he said, sitting on a rickety stool left by the now-fled ruffians. “I couldn’t be certain, but I had my suspicions.”

“How could you think we didn’t?” she asked. “Or are you truly that ignorant?”

“I was given assurances.”

“So it’s the latter,” Zhang Lifen said.

She found herself at a crossroads. How much could she get out of him without revealing anything too dangerous? How much more could she get if she did? Of course, she wasn’t going to simply let Xiao Jun walk away from this encounter. There were, however, ways to coax secrets from the dead, and the Court would have no qualms about using them.

Then again, she’d already revealed that she was aware of the court to that emissary, Kong Huizhong. She never told him her name, though. It probably didn’t matter. If he tore anything from Xiao Jun’s spirit, he’d recognize her and piece things together quickly enough on his own.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Xiao Jun muttered. His features still retained a shadow of his pride, but it was clear that he was all but broken. Zhang Lifen would have felt a sliver of pity for him if he’d not brought this upon himself.

“Truly? They never told you why they needed someone inside the sect?”

“We have people in all the sects. And all throughout the empire. Don’t expect me to believe you don’t know that already.”

“Your ignorance knows no bounds, Xiao Jun. The Shrouded Peaks Sect exists to protect the Dawn Palace. It was founded after the empress was suppressed and sealed.” Zhang Lifen paused for a moment and watched the emotions play across Xiao Jun’s face. Disbelief, anger, then finally, understanding. She spoke again before he could. “Tell me what you know. You served the Court for some time, after all.”

Xiao Jun’s mouth slammed shut, and he looked away. The muscle in his jaw tightened, and so did his fist in his lap. At length, he did softly speak, “There’s no point. I’ll be dead before even a mortal’s lifespan, and that’s if I’m lucky. If I tell you anything, the Court will know. They always know. Then they’ll find me. I should just kill myself now and be done with it. That would be better than what they would do to me.”

“Do you truly believe the sect couldn’t protect you from the likes of Kong Huizhong?” It was a gamble, using his name. But given how close he’d been to the sect territory, Zhang Lifen was all but certain he had been Xiao Jun’s contact with the Court.

Xiao Jun’s head whipped around. “You’re the disciple who fought him!”

“He mentioned me?” she asked, allowing herself a small grin. “I’m touched that he took notice.”

“If I can tell him—”

“Not so fast,” Zhang Lifen said. “You’re clearly in the state you’re in as a punishment of some sort. Would they really repair your dantian? Consider an alternative. The sect could repair the damage to your cultivation base just as easily. We could also protect you. I could even advocate for bringing you into the inner sect in exchange for helping us.”

He eyed her warily. It was clear he didn’t trust her, and she didn’t blame him. She was lying through her teeth, after all.

“What would I need to do?” he asked, voice flat and still mistrusting.

She gave him her most brilliant and kind smile. “Just answer a few questions, is all. Provide some information.”

“Take me to the sect and I’ll tell you anything you want,” he said, standing.

“I need to make sure you’re trustworthy first.”

“I’ll swear an oath. Any oath you want me to.”

Her smile turned genuine. He was desperate, and she couldn’t blame him. “That won’t be necessary. You’ve no cultivation base to speak of, anyway, so an oath would be largely meaningless.” She paused as if considering. Then she said, “How about this? Answer a question for me. Truthfully. I already know the answer, so it’ll be easy to tell if you’re lying.”

“Anything,” he said.

“Besides those still remaining at the sect, how many members of the Court operate in the southwest?” she asked.

“Full members? Emissary Kong and the Bandit King Hao Niu,” he said immediately. “The emissary is fully pacted, but I don’t know if Hao Niu is or not. There are two others, but I don’t know their names.”

Xiao Jun must truly be out of favor if he didn’t know that King Hao was dead. She had hoped that he would have more for her than that—she had already experienced Kong Huizhong’s power for herself and was thus aware that he’d fully yoked himself to the empress. It seemed as though Xiao Jun may be of less use than she’d first thought.

“I see. And Sha Xiang?” she asked. The technique she’d used, both in her first duel with He Yu and then again during the tournament—well, there were other explanations. But given her association with Xiao Jun and the Court, those explanations weren’t likely.

“She has a core, but it hasn’t fully bonded with her yet. At least not as far as I can tell.”

At least there was one piece of good news. “Thank you, Xiao Jun. You’ve been most helpful.” As she spoke, she raised a finger and pointed it at him, letting her smile drop. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry it’s come to this.”

A bead of qi formed at the end of her finger, and realization broke across Xiao Jun’s face. There would be little that he could tell her at this point that she didn’t already know. Her work was done. The Heart Piercing Black Rain was meant to be used with a weapon. It could be used without one, but it was just less effective. Despite that, it was still more than enough to deal with a mortal.

Zhang Lifen opened her parasol and stepped out from under the overhang. The trip had been more or less a waste. No matter, she’d manage to spin it into a victory somehow.