The flames cast dancing shadows across Smiling Snake Min’s face as she stirred the cooking pot, her usual smile replaced with thoughtful contemplation. The camp was quiet save for the crackling fire and the occasional rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.

Iron Fan Lan sat across from her, methodically cleaning his prized metal fan with an oiled cloth. The moonlight caught the intricate design etched into its surface – cranes taking flight, their wings flowing into deadly sharp edges that could slice through flesh and bone.

“The men are late,” Lan commented, not looking up from his work.

Min set aside her spoon and rose gracefully. “Finish the soup. If they're running behind, it means they’ve found another caravan. I'll prepare more pharsin.” She turned toward her workspace, her robes whispering against the ground as she walked to the farthest tent in their camp.

Inside her sanctuary mortars, herbs, and bubbling concoctions were arranged carefully. She picked up her grinder and began grinding fresh Pharsin nuts.

As she motioned, the familiarity brought back unwanted memories of Blade Valley Sect, where she’d spent years perfecting her craft.

She’d been the sect’s most promising toxicologist, trusted with precious formulas. That changed when rare ingredients began disappearing from the sect’s storehouses. Fingers pointed to her. She’d been framed, she knew it, but couldn't prove it. The real culprit had played their hand well.

The sect elders hadn't even given her a proper trial. “Theft from within the sect is unforgivable,” they'd declared before casting her out.

She’d lost everything.

Her position.

Her research.

Her home.

Iron Fan Lan found her half-dead in a roadside ditch three days later. A wandering mercenary such as him took contracts where he could find them. Her story resonated with him, another soul cast aside by the secluded sects. They'd been inseparable since.

The sound of approaching hoofbeats pulled Min from her memories. She corked the vial of fresh poison and emerged from her tent just as their men arrived.

A carriage pulled into camp, and the Phantom Fox Brigade began unpacking barrels and boxes of silk, dried berries, and various spices were stored accordingly.

“Report,” he commanded, snapping his fan shut then realised something was amiss. “I don’t see, Fa, Gu’er and…. wait, WHY ARE YOU NINE MEN SHORT!” He snapped, as he waving his fan.

“The Martial Arts Alliance, Leader.”

“What?” He growled.

“Yes sir, the martial alliance sent someone for us. We encountered a demoness whip-wielder.”

“A demoness whip-wielder?" Min’s eyes narrowed as she asked. “Go into details…”

“She moved like nothing I’ve seen before, but that wasn’t the only thing…”

“…you can kill the dramatics and speak plainly.” Iron Fan Lan said calmly, uninterested in the dramatics.

“She was fighting with a child on her back?”

“A child on her back?”

“Yes…”

“If she fought with such a disadvantage, it could mean one thing…” Min said, turning to Iron Fan Lan.

“…she’s probably one of the Nine Masters of Martial Master,”

“Agreed…Coiling Whip of the Shadows…Su Lin.”

A cold silence fell over the camp as everyone went silent. One of the Nine Masters of Martial Arts is after them? That was unheard of…they were a lowly bandit brigade…

“That doesn’t make sense” Zhang said, “did we incur another star?”

“No…my reports say our bounty is only Four stars,” She answered, her tone bitter. “We might be drawing too much attention.”

“Agreed, at this rate, we’ll be ten stars before winter.”

“...if we survive.”

“We just need four more heists,” Lan insisted. “Then we disappear.”

“You think the magistrate will simply let us leave?”

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“Do you care for his plans? We did what we were supposed to. We leave immediately after the final delivery!” Lan snapped, his fan mimicking his tone.

Two men appeared before them, smug smiles on their faces as they dragged a small figured before them “What’s this?” Min asked, confused

“Found him hiding in the forest around the caravan.”

“Hiding? Hmmm, he was probably part of the caravan.”

Iron Fan Lan narrowed his eyes at the boy, then slowly approached him, He knelt down to study him. “The lad has muscles, he’s either starving or he’s trained.

Min knelt beside Fan, then check the acupoint around his wrist checking his meridians. “His meridian points for his Soul Awakening Realm are open.” She said, looking at Lan excited.

“Soul Awakening Realm? At his age…he must be a genius!”

“…or he’s had a hard life.”

“Regardless, he’ll be staying with us”

“Yes…if we both train him, he’d be a monster in the Jianghu!”

A loud crash from the warehouse drew Lan and Min’s attention. “Don’t break the barrels!” Lan snapped, striding away to supervise the unloading.

Min stayed with the boy and smile. She watched his peaceful face lit from the firelight. Perhaps this night had brought them more than just silk and spices. ”Put him in my tent," she ordered. “And bind him well.”

Wei Long

Wei Long woke to the sounds of laughter and clinking cups. He opened his eyes and let the grogginess dissipate from within them.

As his head continuously throbbed, he tried to sooth it, but realised that his wrists were bound by rope. He then looked around his surroundings, realising he was in a tent, lying on a simple bedroll.

Shadows of the celebrating bandits dancing on the tent’s caught his attention. The air smelled of roasted meat and wine

The fragments of drunken conversations could be heard, but Wei Long could care less. He wanted to be free. “To another successful raid!” Someone howled, followed by laughter.

The tent flap opened, and a woman entered in a green flowing hanfu. She carried a bowl with steam wafting. Her robes rustled softly as she moved, with a perpetual smile painted on her face. It made Wei Long feel uneasy.

She walked up to Wei Long, then knelt next to him. She cozied up to him and picked up the spoon and held it up to him. “Are you hungry?” She asked,

“I make an excellent mushroom broth.” The steam curled up invitingly, carrying the rich aroma of mushrooms and herbs.

Wei Long turned his head away, but a loud growl from his stomach followed, betraying him.

Another wide smile appeared on her face, that still made him uneasy. “Come now,” The woman said, “If we wanted you dead, you wouldn't have woken up at all…What's your name, child? Everyone has a name.” She finished bringing the spoon closer to his lips.

Wei Long remained silent, watching her from the corner of his eye. The soup’s aroma was overwhelming now, and he could see tender mushrooms and vegetables floating in the clear broth.

“I see you’re still suspicious?” She asked, pouting as if she were disappointed. “Wise, perhaps. But foolish in your current situation…the soup will get cold, and I don’t serve seconds.”

After three more moments of resistance, Wei Long’s hunger won out. He opened his mouth, accepting the spoonful. The soup was delicious – better than anything he'd eaten in months.

“There we go,” Min said softly. “Now, your name?”

After several more spoonful, Wei Long finally mumbled, “...Wei Long.”

“Wei Long,” Min repeated, testing the name. “Like the dragon? Your parents were ambitious." She set the bowl down and began untying his bonds.

“Do you belong to a sect Wei Long?”

“No…I don’t belong to a sect,” Wei Long answered quickly…too quickly. He winced at his own transparency. “I’m just a stable boy. The merchant hired me to tend his horses.”

“Is that so?” Min sand, smile widened slightly, showing teeth. She finished removing the ropes but kept hold of his wrist. She pressed the acupoint in his wrist. “That’s interesting. Because you see, I’ve already poisoned you.”

Wei Long's heart stopped. “W-what?”

“A special formula of mine. Right now, it’s concentrated in your face…it will start to burn soon, then spread through your meridians. Your veins will feel like they’re on fire. Unless, of course, you tell me the truth.”

Terror wrapped itself around Wei Long’s heart, making it race franticly. Wei Long tried to calm himself, but the moment he did, his body felt as if it were on fire.

“I... I...”

“Tell me the truth…before the burning starts.”

“I…I’m a pickpocket!” He said, the words tumbling out faster than he expected. “I tried to steal from the merchant last week. He caught me, but instead of turning me in, he offered me work with his horses. He said he’d feed me every day if I helped…Please, I don't want to die.”

The smiling woman studied him for a long moment, her smile unchanged but her eyes sharp and calculating. “A touching story. Not entirely true, I think, but touching nonetheless.”

She stood up and began walking toward the tent flap. “Wait here. I’ll fetch the antidote. Don’t worry. The burning won't start for a few more minutes.”

The moment she left, Wei Long examined his bonds. She'd retied them loosely – probably assuming he was too scared to try anything. He carefully worked one hand free while maintaining the appearance of being bound, his heart racing with each sound from outside.

The woman returned with a small vial of cloudy liquid. “Drink this. All of it. You’ll feel sleepy afterward – that’s normal. Rest well, Wei Long…We’ll talk more tomorrow about your... stable boy duties.”

Wei Long took the vial and snapped open the vial. He looked at her and she just stood there, smiling, which crawled his skin this time. The burning sensation returned and all he could do was pray.

He tilted his back, keeping an eye on the woman, a cold metallic ting erupted on his tongue the moment the liquid touched his tongue. It slid down his throat and a cold sensation erupted around his body, sending goosebumps down his spin.

He coughed incessantly, watching the woman smiling. She turned and left the tent with a whisper of silk. “Get better soon Wei Long…”

Wei Long counted to hundred, before slipping his bonds completely off. His head was beginning to feel heavy. He didn’t know what would happen to him, but he had to move fast.

He stalked himself up to the tent flap and peered out. Five different campfires were brewing whilst the brigade celebrated, passing wine jugs and laughing at crude jokes. The night was dark, and the flames had ruined their night vision.

Perfect.

Wei Long crept up to one of the closest torches used keep the camp lit. He grabbed a burning branch and the edges of his vision began to blur. “I have to move quickly…I have to give away their position to Master Quan and Susu.”

Wei Long touched the burning branch to the edge of an empty tent. The flames raced up the fabric like eager fingers. He moved to another, then another, starting fires in a circle around the camp’s perimeter. Each step became harder than the last as the drug pulled at his consciousness.

“FIRE!” Someone shouted in the distance “THE TENTS ARE ON FIRE”