She smiles, harsh and cold. Beneath her gaze, he feels himself as prey, staring down the eyes of a predator that doesn’t feel hunger, only sadistic mirth. In her hands is a small device with a dozen sides, each one carved with thousands of miniscule runes and array formations. Slender fingers play across its surface, and pieces of it slide and shift like a puzzle-box, clicking and clacking as she moves it.

From the box something changes in the air around them.

It feels… to his senses it’s almost like a person using Qi, like someone drawing in energy to fuel themselves, but it’s not right. It’s… inverted, somehow, rolling backwards and…

It feels like watching water roll uphill, or like someone fall inside their own body. Except both of those things are technically possible so long as one has Qi, and this doesn’t feel like that. This feels like watching the sun travel backwards across the sky and looking up to see the ground above you. It’s distinctly and inherently different from how it’s supposed to work, and yet the Qi is pulled in towards the device anyways.

Right before his eyes, the world changes. Cubes of matter, of air, of space itself somehow made of both at once click and begin to rotate away, as if the whole world is some sort of strange device or screen before him. As if on some two-dimensional plane, square panels and cubes rotate over the bodies and the damage done, and when they are done turning and have returned to the illusion of three-dimensionality, all of it is simply gone.

The woman’s smile widens just a fraction, slightly past politely predatory and into something more entertained. “We wouldn’t want to trouble the Empire’s best educators with something so trivial as a few dead fools, would we? Much less troublesome this way. No trouble at all cleaning up a little bit of mess.”

He doesn’t leave his ready stance. His left arm is still bleeding semi-freely, his intermittent Qi only barely keeping up the healing process, and his thigh feels just a bit shaky from the cut through some of his muscles, but he’s still good to keep fighting. He’s gotten worse wounds in training, and whoever this stranger is, she has the ability to somehow nullify Qi on top of the strange spatial alteration she just did.

Except it wasn’t spatial alteration, was it? A spatial alteration would have pinched their surroundings together, making distortions in the stone and bursts of vacuum in the air. Spatial alteration wouldn’t have remade the the framing above his doorway like it had never held an array or the damage of removing it at all.

Even the Corpse Aflame feels a bit wary of her. The flames on both corpses were snuffed out like they’d never been there at all, and with their newfound Truth, that’s plenty more reason to be concerned.

“Shin Ren greets his honored senior,” he says, one hand still firm on his guandao. The Qi inside his body is still his own, not disrupted like it was with the array, and he cycles it freely. Without the array to disrupt him or any need to keep his true cultivation quiet, not in the face of his own survival, he readies his Dao of Flame, his new Truth, and all three of his cores for battle.

She tilts her head, very slightly.

“No need for any of that. This one doesn’t intend to cause you further harm. Certainly not yet. I’m here with an offer, nothing more.”

He doesn’t quite let go of his guarded stance, but he does perform an awkward sort of half-bow from it. “I am honored, senior, but I don’t tend to parlay with strangers. I’m afraid that if you want to offer me anything, I’ll need to know your name first.”

She shakes her head softly. “I’m afraid that my name isn’t part of my offer, honored one. But if you need something to call me, you may call me Wyld. But perhaps you might invite me into a more private setting? Some conversations aren’t meant for open corridors.”

On that much, at least, they can agree.

That being said, he already found two traps waiting for him the last time he walked into that room. He has no intention of doing so again.

She sees him hesitate and smiles again. That same look of predatory intent, mixed with a very feline amusement.

She is, if nothing else, a dramatically accurate representation of her beastblood origins.

“That’s fine,” she says. “A bit of paranoia can be a very healthy exercise. But unless you have a hidden realm on your person, I’m afraid your options are rather limited. And I think you’ll like what I have to say.”

She shrugs her shoulders, a quick little turn of the wrist making the strange puzzle-box she held simply vanish. “If I wanted to harm you, I would’ve aided the two fools who came for your head. Sometimes it really is better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

He laughs at that, a cold thing. And then, taking his fury and his courage in hand, he walks through the door.

The lights are still off. With a pulse of Qi, he sends the concept of Flame out in a burst, expanding through the space to fill the room. It’s not enough to ignite anything as heavy as carpet or even paper, but for candlewicks, already prepared to burn, the concept latches on eagerly and illuminates the room with a “whoosh”.

Looking inside, his thoughts about a trap are at least partially validated.

The artificial sunlight is still absent from the room entirely, a series of runes carved into the stone around the large bay windows humming slightly against the flow of Qi of the illusion array that they interrupt. Instead, through the expansive frame, there’s just the stone wall behind the illusion, entirely bare save for where it’s been carved into.

The room is grand. He may not have an entire wing of a manor to himself, but the amenities and quality are significantly superior here than in his sect quarters. A living area, complete with a well crafted table able to hold up against even a cultivator’s force, takes up the central space, made to accommodate guests or readings. Descending a few steps into a wider forum, his bedchamber is an expansive area with its own baths and a bed more comfortable than anything he’s ever slept on, and to one side, between the “windows”, is his own personal cultivation chamber. It’s barely been touched, what with all his focus being on research, but he knows there are ways to modify its settings and even add cultivation resources into its very matrix.

Its more than enough for any cultivator to study and seclude themselves in when not indulging in the many other tools of the Academy. For now, though, all Shin Ren cares about is the table and living room.

From his storage ring, he pulls out a roll of bandages and two of the healing pills he purchased. They both go down smoothly, their own healing-aspected Qi flowing into his body and following something almost like a formula to begin repairing his body. He wraps the bandages to stop the bleeding, though. Once he learns some Dao or Truth that can aid him, or simply cultivates enough, he’ll be able to command himself better, but as is, there’s a reasons healers and alchemists are perpetually in high demand.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The woman calling herself “Wyld” steps into the room a few seconds after, long enough that he has time to acclimate himself. It’s a clear moment of courtesy that, despite himself, he appreciates. She seats herself opposite him, kneeling on the pillow provided for just that purpose.

“I like the rooms here,” she opines. “Pleasant things. Not so large as to be unwieldy, but never daring not to be extravagant.”

“I didn’t pick it,” Shin Ren replies.

She laughs her hands coming up onto the table to lightly click her nails against its surface. “I don’t imagine you did. Choice is a rare commodity at the best of times.”

“And yet you claim to be here to offer me just such a thing.”

She smiles. “I am.”

There’s silence between them for a moment, and then he sighs.

“I apologize for my impoliteness, honored one. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice with the customary role of host, and that recent events have me slightly on edge. While I do not wish to dishonor your time and words with inconvenience, I have a tea set and some passable leaves in my storage ring. I request a small moment of your patience.”

She seems almost inordinately happy about him preparing tea for her, her tail waggling playfully behind her in a very feline show of amusement. With a wave of his hand, a kettle and two teacups manifest from his spatial ring onto the table, and with a burst of Qi, he heats up water and the aforementioned leaves.

They’re cheap and shitty, but they’re all he’s got, and there are standards to uphold for any guest. Moreso for a guest that offered him aid so recently.

He pours for the both of them, her cup first, and she waits for him to take a sip before taking one of her own. And then… she blinks.

“Oh. I know this tea.”

She takes a second sip, exceeding the bounds of politeness. He takes a second sip for himself, just for propriety’s sake. The Smiling Noble scoffs, but its purpose and origin is the subversion of nobility, so that’s only to be expected.

If there’s anything he’s dedicated himself to besides his master, it’s to better embody the beliefs he holds close.

This person, stranger and threat that she might be, helped him, and is in his home. To not serve tea, and not enact the proper guest’s rights, would be needlessly disrespectful.

Seeing as his guest seems to be thoroughly enjoying her drink, he decides to take initiative.

“It is rare that one with power gifts it freely to another. And you’ve offered up enough to erase my attackers, it would seem. Good timing or plot, I do not know, but it is clear you came to me with intent. I would ask of you what it is you intend, honored one.”

She takes a long, pensive sniff of her tea, the scent of cheap, simple flavors rising as steam from the water. Only after she’s done indulging does her old smile return as she meets his gaze.

“My master and I have been keeping an eye on you, Shin Ren of the Purple Flame Burning Lotus sect. It was quite a surprise, seeing you emerge from out of the wilds. The last we knew of you, you had ever so thoroughly burned a trail through the southeastern wing, down towards the south fourth, and then simply… vanished.

“And then, of course, we heard an interesting rumor. The Fourth Blade is famously fickle, but he so rarely gets a chance to indulge himself, so it was fascinating to hear rumor that he’d drawn his azure sword against an opponent, which he does oh so rarely.. And then… Shin Ren! Emerged, alive and unscathed, a master-crafted weapon fit to be wielded by at least a Warrior Realm expert in-hand… and spending several weeks being very, very adamant about researching the Blades. Having apparently ‘lost’ his old cultivation and yet using all kinds of new tricks.”

His fist clenches under the table. His thigh and left arm are both still healing, it’ll be a good few hours before the pills fully repair the damage, but… it’s enough to fight if he has to.

“I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure what you mean by making such accusations. While I admit to a fortuitous encounter in the wilds, I find it more than a little humorous to think that one as wise as you would believe I saw the Fourth Blade’s sword and lived to tell the tale.”

“Oh, nothing quite so crass,” she admits with a smile. Her head turns ever so slowly, moving into a more predatory lean as she prepares to reveal something with a bit more weight.

“But we were a bit surprised to find out that whoever it was that the Fourth Blade drew his sword against lived. And is currently enjoying a long and generous stay at the hands of the Empire’s first ring.”

He feels the blood in his veins freeze.

He was right.

He was right.

Qu Haolan is alive.

“Is- are they alright?”

She smile coquettishly, her chin in her hands as slitted eyes track his every reaction.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But my master thought there might be a connection, and I had my own reasons to keep an eye on you.”

A part of him looks at her as an enemy, as another way to play the game. He knows that if he needed it, the Smiling Noble could reach forward through him and guide him through the acts of political maneuvering to try and get her to speak to him, to try and tease secrets from her.

It’s good to have that knowledge, to recognize those instincts.

Instead, Shin Ren shuffles back from the table and presses his forehead to the ground.

He can actually hear the look of surprise on her face.

“This lowly Shin Ren thanks you for your generosity,” he says, as genuine as can be. “I… any information can be valuable, and this information means much to me.”

“I haven’t even gotten to the offer,” she huffs.

“Nevertheless, this Shin Ren is thankful.”

He sits up again, meeting a rather confused gaze.

“You’ve… changed.”

He smiles at that, softly. “If there is anything I can say that is true, it is that I have changed indeed.”

There’s a moment of silence… and then she nods.

“My master is willing to offer you cultivation aids and a manual dedicated to theory and applications of your new cultivation technique. Forming new cores are rare, but not uncommon, and the more information you can provide us, the better the materials. I can have a clearer picture of what we can offer you in as little as three days, should you agree to our side of the exchange. If you truly want to grow at the rate you’ll need to to be able to even see the first ring in your lifetime, you’ll need it.”

“And what is your part of this exchange?” he asks.

“Nothing too extreme. Not at first. It’s better to help you establish your power, so as to better establish your character in the eyes of others. But eventually, we may call on you when appropriate to deal with certain… problematic elements in play. We have other agents, but rarely is anyone approached as directly as you- take it as a sign of your potential.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t be an assassin. I’ve hurt the undeserving for meager rewards and false glory before, and I have no intention of returning to those ways.”

“And I respect that. We won’t ask it of you. My master believes that the best chains are those that cannot be felt, and even better are the ones put on freely. If we have a request for you, it will be to eliminate problems or disrupt a situation, not to kill someone. Murder is messy, especially under the scrutiny of Imperial Law, and messy visibility is the last thing anyone really wants. The occasional disruption may be required; a surprise duel being called, setting up a fight or “accidental” use of Qi, the occasional use of authority. You fit well under a sort of… justicar ideal we could use. Beyond that, I think you’ll be well suited as a defensive asset. Keeping a few targets safe on occasion. Anything more, and you’re free to break faith. I’m willing to sign a binding contract to assure you that any resources given to you directly are yours to keep, whether or not you remain with us.”

He considers it for a while.

The Corpse Aflame, of course, is overjoyed. More power, more fuel, more things to burn and chances to practice their newest Truth. The Smiling Noble sees so many opportunities here, so many ways to twist what is happening, to better play their roles, even if their new role is, for the most part, exactly what Shin Ren wants of them.

He, on the other hand, is a bit more careful with his thoughts.

“If you can provide the binding contract for my review and the first of your supposed gifts, I would be more than willing to enter an agreement with individuals as honorable as your master and yourself.”

She smiles again, the look of a cat with a canary well within its jaws.

“Very well spoken, young master. I look forward to working alongside you.”