As Wuji concluded his explanation, a determined silence filled the room. He could see the seriousness on both Zhen and Jinhai’s faces as they digested the details of the plan, each realizing the level of commitment and caution this mission required.
He began summarizing their strategy to ensure there was no confusion. “First and foremost, you’ll both be working separately,” he said, fixing his gaze on each of them in turn. “This way, any slip-up from one of us won’t directly affect the other.”
Turning toward Zhen, Wuji continued, “You’ll be the face of our trading company. The primary focus will be transporting medicinal herbs and basic resources between the Golden Lotus Dynasty and the Ironclad Mountains. Given your calm and collected nature, Zhen, you’re perfect for managing the complex negotiations and risks involved in running a business in such a dangerous region.”
Zhen nodded, his expression stoic yet focused. “I understand,” he replied, his voice calm and level. “We’ll stick to basic resources for now. This way, we won’t attract too much attention or need heavy protection. As you mentioned, starting small will reduce costs, but it also means our profits will be limited.”
“Precisely,” Wuji agreed. “Because we don’t have the strength to protect our trade routes just yet, we’ll stick to goods that don’t draw the attention of major factions or bandit groups. At first, we’ll source medicinal herbs from Green Leaf Town. We’ll transport them to the Ironclad Mountains, where the demand is higher due to the lack of local cultivators or healers willing to risk their lives for regular trade. It’s a niche, but the competition is minimal, and the foothold we gain will be invaluable for our larger plans.”
Zhen’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. “And the risk of bandits?”
“Indeed, bandits are a concern,” Wuji admitted. “But we can mitigate that by hiring low-level mercenaries. They aren’t exactly ideal—they’re costly, and their strength isn’t impressive—but they’re enough for a smaller caravan and add a layer of plausible deniability. If we suffer some losses, that’s to be expected. We’re laying foundations, not expecting immediate profit.”
Next, Wuji’s attention turned to Jinhai. “You, Jinhai, will infiltrate a local faction—a gang in the Ironclad Mountains called the Stone Fist Gang. Their leader’s strength reaches the Foundation Establishment stage, and some members are in the Qi gathering realm and most of the members are in the body refining realm same as yours, Keep a low profile; you shouldn't confront cultivators who are much stronger than you. Use your social skills and easygoing personality to get close to them, gather intel, and observe their operations from within.”
Jinhai smirked slightly, his playful nature reasserting itself. “Getting into the gang shouldn’t be too hard. I’m sure I can win them over by doing small jobs and getting to know the right people.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “I can adapt to whatever they need—charm them a bit, act clueless if necessary.”
Wuji nodded approvingly. “Good. For the first six or seven months, keep your presence low. Build relationships and trust slowly. During that time, both of you will send me regular updates on the progress of the plan. However, you two must have no direct contact with each other in the Ironclad Mountains. Operate as if the other doesn’t exist.”
Both Zhen and Jinhai nodded in understanding. They knew the risks, and Wuji’s insistence on discretion only underscored the need to maintain secrecy.
“Now, for the reports,” Wuji continued, pulling a folded piece of parchment from his robe and handing it to them. “You’ll write in code using this unique set of symbols. Each symbol corresponds not just to letters but to entire sounds or phrases, and they change based on the day the message is written. It’ll be nearly impossible for anyone else to read it.”
Zhen examined the parchment, his brows raised in surprise. “These symbols… they’re unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
“That’s the idea,” Wuji replied with a knowing smile. The symbols were based on an alphabet foreign to this world, inspired by modified letters from his past life’s Sanskrit but with added layers of complexity. Only he held the key to interpret them—an evolving set of rules known only to him and those he trusted. “And to make things more secure, each report uses a new key for decoding, unique to that day, so even if someone got hold of a previous report, they’d still be stuck.”
Jinhai chuckled, tracing one of the symbols with a finger. “I was wondering where you got these strange squiggles. They look like they belong to some forgotten, ancient civilization.”
“Exactly,” Wuji said, “and we’re the only ones who understand them. Anyone who tries to decode it will be chasing their tail through empty symbols.”
Zhen raised another concern. “How will we get these reports to you, especially if you’re in the sect’s region? Ordinary messengers won’t be able to reach you.”
“Good point,” Wuji said, pleased with Zhen’s foresight.
Zhen considered for a moment before proposing, “We could use the Whisperwind Messengers. It is a reputed organization renowned for its discreet and efficient letter delivery service across cultivation territories. Cultivators commonly use them.”
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“Perfect,” Wuji said, nodding. “Their discretion will be invaluable. Keep our connection with them anonymous, though. Whisperwind Messengers deal with many clients, so they’re unlikely to recall any individual exchanges, but it’s better not to take chances.”
Finally, Wuji spoke about their identities. “Both of you need to conceal your identities and change your appearances. If anything goes wrong and the plan unravels, you should have a fallback. By keeping your identities separate, you can return to your ordinary lives, uninvolved in the mess that unfolds.”
Jinhai, ever curious, raised a question. “But won’t the disguises eventually get recognized? What if the masks or hoods aren’t enough?”
Before Wuji could respond, Zhen answered, his tone thoughtful. “That’s why we’ll alter our physical appearances. Different clothes, perhaps a false accent, and anything else we can do to ensure we aren’t easily traced. It’s a safety net.”
Wuji smiled approvingly, feeling a sense of pride in his friend’s readiness to adapt. “Well said, Zhen. And speaking of appearances, I have one more task. Jinhai, you mentioned a shop that makes disguise masks from animal hides, right?”
Jinhai nodded. “Yes, but there’s a catch. They require face measurements for custom masks. If we show them our faces, it defeats the purpose of remaining anonymous.”
“Leave that to me,” Wuji replied confidently. “I’ll carve your faces out of wood for the artisans to use as templates. That way, we’ll keep your identities safe and still get the quality we need.”
Ever since he was young, Wuji had dabbled in woodworking, honing his skill out of both necessity and a quiet love for the craft. He would often create and sell small wooden figures and tools back in the Celestial Harmony Village to fund his and Mei's training. This time, however, he would apply his skill for a higher purpose.
He asked Jinhai to fetch two pieces of wood large enough for their heads, and soon he had the necessary materials in front of him. Wuji set to work, carving with steady, practiced hands. His movements were precise as he shaped each wooden head, mimicking the contours and features of both Zhen and Jinhai without too much detail. Each was carved with enough likeness to serve as a reference but not so exact as to compromise their anonymity.
Jinhai, who had watched Wuji carve on many occasions in the past, couldn’t help but admire his friend’s skill. “You’ve only gotten better, Wuji,” he commented as Wuji’s knife danced over the surface of the wood.
Wuji smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. “It’s a skill that’s served me well over the years.”
In about two hours, both wooden head sculptures were finished, each with a rough outline of the friends’ faces. Wuji inspected them for any detail that might be too recognizable and, satisfied with his work, nodded in approval. The roughness of the carving ensured that no one would be able to trace them back to Zhen or Jinhai.
“You can take these to the artisan,” Wuji instructed, “and have them make masks from animal skins based on these shapes. We’ll use them to conceal your identities in the mountains. After the masks are made take the sculptures back and discard them."
With the masks taken care of, they turned their attention to the final steps of their plan. Wuji stressed the importance of patience and caution, emphasizing that they should take their time in establishing themselves. Rushing would draw unwanted attention, and in a region as ruthless as the Ironclad Mountains, that could mean death.
Wuji knew he couldn’t control every detail from his position within the sect, but he trusted his friends to follow through. The coded reports would keep him informed, and, in turn, he would use his position to guide them as best he could.
With everything set in place, they fell into a moment of silence, each absorbing the weight of what was to come. This venture would take them down different paths, each filled with perils they could scarcely imagine. Yet, if successful, it would secure their foothold in the Ironclad Mountains, paving the way for Wuji’s grander ambitions.
Once everything was set and their plans solidified, Wuji stood, stretching his tired muscles. He glanced at Zhen and Jinhai, a soft smile crossing his face. "Let’s go get something good to eat. It’s likely the last meal we’ll have together for a long time."
The three made their way to a bustling street vendor known for his hearty bowls of noodles and stewed meat. They chose a corner table, away from the noise of the market but close enough to enjoy the lively atmosphere. As they ate, they shared stories of past escapades, laughing and reminiscing as though they were simply three friends sharing a meal without the weight of their plans hanging over them.
Zhen, usually quiet, spoke more than he had in ages, and Jinhai’s laughter filled the air. Even Wuji allowed himself to relax, knowing how rare moments like this would be in the days ahead. Their friendship had carried them through many challenges before, but now they were stepping into uncharted territory, where each would have to rely on themselves.
After their final meal together, Wuji gathered Zhen and Jinhai to discuss one last important matter. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out 300 gold coins and 10 broken spirit stones, splitting the funds evenly between them.
"Consider this your initial capital,” Wuji said, his tone serious. “Use it wisely, and remember, we're starting small. This is just the foundation for something much larger."
Zhen and Jinhai eyed the broken spirit stones curiously, prompting Wuji to explain. "These are broken spirit stones. They’re fragments of full spirit stones but still carry a faint trace of Qi within them, making them useful for small bursts of cultivation or quick recovery. Full spirit stones, on the other hand, are more valuable. They’re typically used by cultivators to significantly enhance their cultivation or refine Qi."
He continued, “Full spirit stones are costly and rare, often exchanged between high-ranking cultivators or noble families. But these broken ones can still be helpful for minor boosts, and they’re easier to come by in markets near cultivation sites or trading hubs like the Ironclad Mountains. They’ll give you an edge when you’re low on Qi or need a quick recovery.”
Zhen nodded, thoughtfully pocketing his share, while Jinhai’s eyes sparkled with newfound excitement. Wuji could tell they both grasped the significance of these resources; the gold would sustain their business, but the spirit stones might just save their lives.
As Wuji handed over the last of the funds, he looked between his two friends, a resolute determination in his gaze. "Use these resources wisely. Once you're both established, things will only get harder from here on out. But remember—we’re not doing this just for wealth or power. This is our foothold in a world where survival favors the strong; the weak are but stepping stones. Make every coin and every stone count."
With final nods of agreement, the three friends parted, knowing that while they were now on separate paths, they shared the same purpose.