When compared to the masters of the Sect, Jin Wu's cultivation at the initial stage of Foundation Establishment was laughable. Masters his age were all at least in the Golden Core realm, but cultivation wasn't something Jin Wu liked.

His father sold him to the royal army recruiters when he was fourteen, and when they found he had spiritual roots, his cultivation life began—or else.

But once he had been injured and adopted the caretaker's life, he saw no need to waste his effort in mindlessly sucking in qi. Besides, his level was enough to handle any of the young brats that paraded through the sect that got any ideas.

"Well, that was the usual case," he thought. However, right now, he faced a problem. The group of three he was stealthily following while they carried the unconscious Feng Wei all had higher cultivation than him.

He could report it to one of the Hall Masters, but then they might cancel the tournament, and he would lose out on the five thousand taels. He had to handle this himself and quickly.

He moved from tree to tree; each footstep was placed meticulously not to disturb the layer of leaves that carpeted the forest. He strained to hear any conversation that might give him a clue, but the trio moved silently with their bundle.

As he constrained his aura, he felt a chill from the memory of the buckets of freezing water Seargent Fong would drench him in when his control wavered—the long-ago ingrained training now allowing him to mimic a mouse as he moved.

Suddenly, a lantern flashed briefly ahead of the group, and Jin Wu froze. The trio seemed to answer the flash.

Quickly, he reached up with his right arm, grabbed a branch, and pulled his body up in a single motion. "If Master Han saw him now, he would probably die of rage," he mused.

A solitary person approached the group, and he heard a familiar voice.

"Is he still alive?"

"Reporting to Senior Nian, we kept him alive in case you wanted him questioned."

"Take him to the camp and find out who supports him! I'm going back to the Sect."

Jin Wu waited silently after Nian Ru passed underneath him and was well away before he continued his pursuit.

About a li later, he encountered a group of tents in a clearing. He circled, avoiding the sleeping guards until he heard the voice of Nian Ru's underling.

"He's still out. We'll question him in the morning."

A faint footstep made him retreat quickly to the edge of the clearing as a guard patrol passed by where he had just been. He retreated further into the trees and started to think of a plan.

After thirty years at the Sect, he knew the surrounding land well—more than one clandestine operation had been carried out over the years.

"Growing young men need diversions," he muttered while thinking of the many items and people he had smuggled into the Sect.

Once again, he circled the camp and moved northeast. About three li later, he came upon a pond and, with a small knife, uprooted a patch of lilies that grew on the shore. Lilies in hand, he retraced his steps.

As he neared the camp, he turned and headed west. A wry smile on his face as he thought about the surprise he was about to unleash.

He had been chased more than once by the Spirit Boar patriarch, who lived about ten li away.

It only took about an hour after he laid out the trail of lilies for a boar to approach. Fortunately, Lady Luck smiled at him because it was a tiny piglet, not even a year old.

Jin Wu pounced as it ate the lilies, and the piglet started to squeal. The screams resounded through the forest, and Jin Wu began to run toward the camp.

Not long before he reached the clearing, he felt the thunderous pursuit. Then, when he reached the clearing, he threw the piglet into the camp, clambered up a tree, and waited.

As he settled on a thick branch, he mused that if he ever acquired dimensional storage, he would pack it with nuts and jujubes for such occasions.

However, he didn't enjoy his perch for very long. Seconds later, an avalanche of hoves trampled the clearing, the tents, the guards, and anything in its path.

Fifteen minutes later, grown men moaned while strewn over what was once a camp, and Jin Wu leisurely climbed down and retrieved the sleeping Feng Wei.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

----------------------------------------

Seargent Fong hammered it into every recruit: “Grip the hilt, swing the sword.” Jin Wu couldn’t count the times he’d heard that command, and here he was, still living it. What else could he do? The kid would need mountains of alchemical resources if he were going to fight tomorrow.

“Ah, if only Dad had sold me to an alchemist,” Jin Wu muttered, not for the first time.

Feng Wei lay on the cot, still unconscious. The injury to the back of his head had stopped bleeding, and he had bandaged it—as best he could. But the kid didn't look well.

However, taking him to see Healer Li would invite a host of questions he wasn't prepared nor did he want to answer.

With a reluctant sigh, he pulled out his coin purse and counted five gold taels.

The three Ferrets sat reclining their backs against the at the entrance of the grotto, waiting impatiently.

“Rabbit,” he called over, “run to the alchemy shop. Get three Qi Returning dans, a Vein Restoration dan,” he paused, considering, “and a Scarlet Bloom dan.”

He grabbed five more taels from the purse for good measure.

"Swinging the sword costs a lot of taels," he wanted to retort to Seargent Fong. It was another reason he thought cultivation was a waste—the only ones who profited were the alchemists.

He sat and waited while reviewing the night's events—so many questions.

"What do these Nian characters want?" He pondered. It was one thing to rig a tournament—not the first time he'd seen it. Quite different was a camp just outside the Sect with armed guards and kidnapping an opponent from inside the Sect.

A little poisoning here and there or a fist-backed reminder that there was a tournament next year they could join wasn't unheard of, but this?

It was brazen to the extreme. The Sect Master wasn't known for his rosy disposition.

"Shadow, Ears," he yelled. The young men moved closer. Their sleep-deprived faces drooping.

"Back off from monitoring the Nians directly until this tournament business is over, and I'll deal with the collecting."

The army didn't usually breed cautious people, but life did.

----------------------------------------

The exquisite porcelain base shattered with a resounding crash against the wall.

“Escaped! Incompetent fools!” Nian Ru’s fury blazed with each word, the flames licking up around his eyes and cheeks in fiery arcs.

“Spirit beasts, Senior Nian—they attacked the camp!” The messenger spat out the words as though they might shield him. Moments later, he, too, was hurled against the wall, crumpling to the floor with a groan.

“Nian Ru, hold your temper!” Hall Master Nian strode into the room, his commanding aura pressing down, strong enough to smother his nephew’s flames. He moved closer, his voice a cold, steady reprimand. “We lost three guards, and the rest are badly injured, including your cousins. We don’t need any more casualties.”

Nian Ru’s flames died down, replaced by a seething look of controlled rage. He took a breath, forcing his voice into a calm, calculated tone. “Is anyone searching for him?”

“We don’t have the manpower,” his uncle replied. “But no one has reported anything to the Sect, so he may still be out in the woods—perhaps already dead.”

Nian Ru clenched his fists. “Uncle, we need that armor. The records are clear; it has to be freely given, or it won’t bond, and all your efforts to convince the Sect Master to give it as a prize will be for not.”

“If he isn’t dead, he’s badly injured. And if, by some miracle, he makes it to the final, can’t you handle an injured brat?” The Hall Master’s voice cut like ice.

“Someone’s helping him,” Nian Ru replied, his frustration barely masked. “He’s stronger than he should be for his age and training. We planned to deal with him quietly, not to risk exposure—”

“They say fists have no eyes. Perhaps a little wealth could make his next opponent’s fists blind.” Hall Master Nian’s gaze was unyielding. “Keep calm and talk with Lin Chen.”

Nian Ru’s eyes burned with simmering rage, but he said nothing, his silence a mark of grudging obedience.

----------------------------------------

Down in the arena, Feng Wei squared off against his next opponent, Lin Chen, known for his subtle but dangerous Shadow Viper technique. He was a top disciple from one of the rival halls and notorious for his agility and underhanded strikes. Even from a distance, the Ferrets could see the calculating glint in Lin Chen’s eyes.

On Ferret’s Perch, the gang huddled close, tense.

“Think he’s recovered enough?” Rabbit muttered, anxiety twisting his face.

Ears shrugged, unwilling to look away. “Boss wouldn’t have given him all those dans for nothing. He’ll be fine. Just… watch.”

As the referee called the start, Feng Wei charged forward with a powerful, steady energy, his Iron Spirit Guard already in place, casting a faint glow around him. He opened with a Swift Eagle Kick, aiming for Lin Chen’s center to force him on the defensive.

“That’s new,” Shadow whispered, impressed. “Looks like he’s pulling out all the stops.”

But Lin Chen was already in motion, sidestepping Feng Wei’s attack with a subtle pivot. His body moved like liquid, slipping through Feng Wei’s strikes with ease. He retaliated with a flick of his wrist, and a black sheen of qi condensed around his hand—a classic Shadow Viper’s Fist.

“Watch out!” Ears hissed, gripping the edge of his seat. “That attack’s fast and sneaky. Feng Wei better be careful, or he’ll—”

Just as he spoke, Feng Wei shifted, raising his guard and blocking Lin Chen’s strike, but the hit still sent a ripple through his frame. A flicker of pain crossed Feng Wei’s face, and the Ferrets held their breath.

“He’s still hurt,” Rabbit groaned. “Our taels… they’re as good as gone.”

But Feng Wei’s expression hardened. He stepped back, taking a steadying breath before launching another series of attacks, this time using Spiraling Dragon Strike, sending coils of qi forward in forceful arcs. Surprised by the attack's strength, Lin Chen dodged the first two strikes but stumbled back from the third.

“Oh, he didn’t see that coming!” Shadow chuckled, relief creeping into his voice.

Lin Chen recovered quickly, though, his movements more aggressive. He dipped low, his qi coiling around his arms in dark tendrils as he launched his Shadow Viper’s Bite, aiming for Feng Wei’s side in a rapid sequence of strikes.

“Come on, Feng Wei, block it!” Rabbit yelled, nearly falling over in his excitement.

Feng Wei reacted just in time, reinforcing his Iron Spirit Guard with a blast of his own qi, turning the attack away. Then, seeing an opening, he retaliated with a skill they hadn’t seen before: Blazing Phoenix Palm. A fiery outline formed around his hand, striking forward with explosive force.

The crowd gasped as Lin Chen took the full hit, staggering backward with smoke rising from his robes.

“Did you see that?” Ears hooted, grinning from ear to ear. “Where’s he been hiding that move?”

“Boss wasn’t kidding—Feng Wei’s got this,” Shadow added with a smirk, though his gaze remained glued to the fight.

Down below, Lin Chen faltered, his qi reserves visibly waning. Feng Wei, seizing his chance, steadied himself, channeling his remaining strength into a single finishing move: Heaven-Cleaving Fist. His qi surged, condensing around his fist in a shining burst before crashing into Lin Chen’s hastily raised guard.

The impact shattered Lin Chen’s defense, and he collapsed onto the arena floor, breathing heavily and defeated.

But Lin Chen, through grit and spite, flicked his wrist just before landing, and a glint of black qi struck Feng Wei’s side in a swift, poisonous flash—the unmistakable mark of the Shadow Viper’s Kiss. Feng Wei staggered, a slight tremor passing over his features.

The referee raised his hand, signaling Feng Wei’s victory.

From Ferret’s Perch, cheers erupted, and Rabbit practically danced in his seat. “We’re rich!”

“Don’t get too excited yet,” Ears chided, grinning. “He’s got more fights ahead.”

Shadow nodded a hint of respect in his voice. “Boss knew what he was doing, sending him in.”

But as the cheers of victory rang out, the smile slipped from Rabbit’s face. Down below, Feng Wei faltered, clutching his side, and with a final, weary breath, he collapsed onto the arena floor.