When He Yu arrived at Yan Shirong’s home, the change was immediately apparent. After their time training with Old Guo, the shadows had always seemed to cling more closely to Yan Shirong. An impression that had only increased as he progressed through Body Refining. Now those shadows seemed like if He Yu reached out for them, he could grab them like a handful of silk.

Then there was the uncanny sensation he got whenever he looked at Yan Shirong, like he was being watched. Not as though Yan Shirong was watching—the comital scion seemed to barely be paying attention, in fact. No, like something unseen was lurking within the shadows that now clung to him. He Yu peered back with the judgment of an emperor. The truth of things was immediately apparent.

“Congratulations,” he said as Yan Shirong finally turned his attention to He Yu.

“I can’t take full credit for it,” Yan Shirong said, pressing a fist into his palm and giving He Yu a slight bow. “The insights you left me with were invaluable in forming a Wayborn Seed. I didn’t expect it to take this form, however.”

“What did you expect?” He Yu asked as he took the seat that Yan Shirong motioned to.

Producing a jar of wine for each of them, Yan Shirong said, “Something related to wealth.”

“Disappointed?”

Yan Shirong shook his head. “You still can’t figure out when someone’s making a joke, it seems.”

Not bothering to mention how flat Yan Shirong’s delivery of his supposed “joke” had been, He Yu said, “Well, I suppose it’s only a matter of time until you join me in the Fourth Realm.”

“Given the trouble you’ve found for yourself? I should hope not,” Yan Shirong scoffed. “Besides, I may be close to the peak of the Third Realm, but don’t think I haven’t forgotten what happened to you the first time you tried to break through. No, I think I’ll wait until I’m good and ready. I’m not too keen on spending a month or more wrestling my cultivation base should I fail forming a Golden Core on my first try.”

That was fair, all things considered. While it hadn’t seemed like it had taken a month, the experience of wrestling down the backlash from his failed breakthrough had been almost as bad as the tribulation that had allowed He Yu to succeed.

“Speaking of trouble,” He Yu ventured. That was the reason he’d come, after all.

Yan Shirong downed the last of his wine and eyed He Yu for a moment. “It seems you’ve found quite a bit,” he said at last.

“I’d been afraid of that,” he grumbled as he settled in to listen. It seemed that by ridding himself of Sha Xiang and her senseless aggression towards him, he’d only traded one enemy for another. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he could reason with this one.

“As you suspected,” Yan Shirong began, “the clerk at the assignment hall is in the employ of your rival. Or rivals, rather.”

“There’s more than one,” He Yu said, making sure he’d heard right.

Yan Shirong nodded. “Two, to be exact. They’re both fairly high-ranked, and at late Golden Core.”

He Yu grimaced—he had a feeling he already knew who they were.

“Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu,” Yan Shirong said, confirming He Yu’s suspicions. “You know either of them?”

“Not well,” He Yu said. “They have some grudge against Zhang Lifen from when she was an inner disciple.”

“Well, they’ve decided to take it out on you, it seems.”

Zhang Lifen had warned him that this would be a possibility. That some inner disciples would target him as a roundabout way of scoring a victory against her. If he were honest, he didn’t completely understand how it worked. Something about how making him look bad reflected poorly on her by extension. Should they humiliate him, it suggested that her choice in disciple had been a poor one.

With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and frustration, He Yu stood. “I suppose I’d better go deal with this, then.”

“Deal with this?” Yan Shirong asked. “Weren’t you listening? They’re both late Golden Core. I know I didn’t specify, but hold ranks in the nineties. Hundreds of ranks above you.”

“I’m just going to speak to them,” he said. He meant it, too. There had to be some way they could sort this out reasonably. They had to know that depriving him of resources wasn’t going to smooth over whatever feathers Zhang Lifen had ruffled.

“And you’re going to do so alone, I take it.”

“It’s my problem to deal with.”

“At least take Princess Tan with you. You can use her status to lend weight to your words, at the very least.”

“I’m not using anybody’s anything,” He Yu said. “I meant it when I said it’s my problem. It wouldn’t be right to drag anyone else into this.”

For a moment Yan Shirong simply looked at him, his brows drawn ever so slightly together. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Go,” he said, waving his hand. “Do whatever it is you think you need to do.”

As He Yu left, he couldn’t help but feel there was more that Yan Shirong had meant to say. More he’d left unspoken. That sense prickled at him, like Yan Shirong’s silence was in some sense an accusation. It wasn’t as though He Yu was being stubborn. He just didn’t feel like it was right to get the others involved. He’d meant it when he said this was his problem, not theirs.

The next day He Yu set out to find Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu. It took a bit of time, and a few inquiries, but eventually he found them training together by a lake on one of the higher peaks. As he approached, either they ignored him or they didn’t notice. He assumed it was the former.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Wang Xiaobo’s presence was metal with a minor secondary aspect of water. There were also hints of mountain, as well. It was a mix commonly cultivated among the Shrouded Peaks Sect. The combined feeling of it all was that of a well-honed sword, cold and sharp. Not in the same way Tan Xiaoling was, with her ever-present and well-developed killing intent. No, the chill that Wang Xiaobo’s presence carried was closer to that of Zhang Lifen’s, like He Yu was standing amidst the spray at the base of a waterfall. The sharpness was simply that of a masterwork blade.

Xin Lu was a firestorm that crackled with a strong secondary heaven aspect. That caught He Yu off guard. Besides himself and Elder Cai, this was the first disciple he’d come across that cultivated a heaven aspect. He didn’t know why it was uncommon, other than that perhaps there were relatively few sources of it in and around the Shrouded Peaks one could reliably access.

Regardless, Xin Lu took the fury of heaven, and combined it with the intensity of the flames. His presence was more controlled than the other fire aspected cultivators He Yu had encountered, something he assumed came from adding heaven to the mix. Still, he gave off a powerful aura.

The two of them together, even as far away as He Yu still was, were clearly more than he could handle. Maybe Yan Shirong had been right to suggest he come with backup. Then again, what could even Tan Xiaoling do against these two? One of them alone would have been too much. Both at once?

As He Yu stepped into the view, the two cultivators at the edge of the lake paused, and turned the full weight of their attention to him. Wang Xiaobo’s sharp chill clashed against Xin Lu’s actinic heat. Both held weapons, and noticeably they refrained from returning them to their storage treasures, as would have been polite. He Yu had to flex his own spirit under their combined weight.

Wang Xiaobo held a jian as he looked on while He Yu gave the both of them a salute. His stance wasn’t exactly one that suggested he anticipated an attack, but neither was it wholly relaxed. It was one Li Heng frequently adopted, and one that could easily transition into defense or offense as needed.

He dressed much in the same manner as Li Heng, too. He wore his hair in the same fashion, held back by an ornate crown hairpin, but otherwise allowed to fall freely down his back. The robes he wore were of much higher quality than perhaps anyone He Yu knew except Princess Tan. He recalled having learned that the primary branch of the Wang clan was of ducal rank. Wang Xiaobo came from that branch, although he had several older siblings. His features were like the other nobles as well—refined and delicate, but somehow also strong and severe.

Xin Lu practically glared at He Yu. The double halberd he held was planted at his side. More prominently displayed than held at the ready. Its black head reflected no light, and the red tassel affixed to the haft was still despite the slight breeze. Like Wang Xiaobo, Xin Lu looked as though he could be ready to fight in an instant.

Much rougher in appearance than Wang Xiaobo, Xin Lu dressed like a common soldier. His somewhat ragged clothes consisted of a simple pair of pants and a short outer robe. A soldier’s cap covered his hair. His features lacked any of the refinement of nobility, suggesting instead that he was from a lower-ranked background.

“I’ve come merely to speak, Senior Sect Brothers,” He Yu said. He wasn’t going to beg, nor was he going to throw away his pride, but he saw no harm in at least being polite.

“Why should I waste words on one so far beneath me?” Wang Xiaobo asked. It was clearly rhetorical, but He Yu had to flex his jaw to hold back a reply, anyway. “You’re what, five hundred ninety-nine? Six hundred? Your mere presence borders on insult, Junior Brother.”

If He Yu had needed any evidence that their first meeting after he’d reached Golden Core had been little more than intimidation, this was it. He bit back another response. This wasn’t going according to plan.

“We have no business with you,” said Xin Lu, his fierce eyebrows drawn together.

He Yu drew himself to his full, if still rather unimpressive, height. “I have business with you,” he said.

“He presumes too much,” Xin Lu said. “Should we hear him?”

Wang Xiaobo laughed. “Fine, I suppose there’s no harm in letting Zhang Lifen’s little pet yip at us. I can always kick it off the mountain if needs be.”

Blood and heat rose up He Yu’s neck. He fought down the mix of anger and embarrassment that came at their treatment, unsure of how exactly to deal with this. Sha Xiang had always been so straightforward—so aggressive. She’d spit hate and vitriol at him since they joined the sect, and even before that—when they’d been children in Shulin—she’d been merely cruel.

This was different. They were openly mocking him. Their contempt made it plain how they saw him. Plain that he was beneath consideration. Worth no more than the briefest moment’s acknowledgment.

The worst part was, they were right.

As he was now, he was wholly powerless before them. This wasn’t like it had been with Sha Xiang. Back when the gaps between stages and realms could be easily overcome. It had taken both him and Tan Xiaoling to overcome a single cultivator that had only a single stage advancement. Tan Xiaoling was considered a once in a generation talent, and He Yu was rapidly making a similar reputation for himself. Even if he singled one of them out, this was not a fight he could win. Not yet.

So he saluted again, bowed, and humbled himself. “This one respectfully requests Senior Brothers show mercy. You’ve made your point. You can hinder my advancement by making it all but impossible to gather resources. Although this one has little to offer, perhaps we could work out some arrangement, so that I might once more complete jobs for the sect that we all belong to.”

Each peal of Wang Xiaobo’s laugher was like a dagger stuck into what remained of He Yu’s pride. “Why should we bargain with you?” he asked, making a show of wiping away a tear that He Yu was certain wasn’t actually there. “There’s nothing you can offer us that we can’t get for ourselves. Besides, not only is this little game tremendous fun, it’s quite profitable. For us.”

“I see,” He Yu said. Giving one last bow, he added, “I suppose it was worth a try.” As he turned to leave, Wang Xiaobo’s laughter was joined by Xin Lu’s.

Well, that was that. He’d tried, and he’d failed. In retrospect, he supposed that he should have known better. He’d known deep down that things would go more or less like they had. But something had demanded to try, regardless. Maybe it was the strictures of his Way. Maybe it was his desire to avoid unnecessary conflict, especially with members of his own sect. Whatever it was, he’d made an honest effort. Which was all that he’d demanded of himself.

While he couldn’t do anything against those two now, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to in the future. He still had most of the better-quality elixirs left from the mine assault. He still had a decent amount of contribution points from the same, even if it was less than he’d like. He still had some resources he could muster.

In the early days of his life at the sect, Sha Xiang had seemed insurmountable. Not only had he surpassed her, he’d surpassed all those she’d gathered around herself. There was no reason he couldn’t do the same here. Although he’d expected things would go the way they had, he’d wanted to at least try. Just like he had with Sha Xiang.

That Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu had refused to settle things amicably, well, that wasn’t his fault. He’d done his part. He’d done all that he required of himself. Now? He would just pursue the only option they’d left him with.

He’d been hand-picked by the sect’s rising star, after all. His martial grandfather was the sect’s First Elder. He wasn’t going to be cruel, like Sha Xiang had been. But neither was he going to allow them to push him around. He’d only suffer what indignities he had to, while he had to.

The next step was clear. Middle Golden Core had been growing ever closer for some time now. There was little point in putting it off any longer.