Gao Yang sat calm and collected, not dodging or flinching. He raised his head and met the Sixth Senior Brother's gaze.
He smiled. "Sixth Senior Brother, are you all right?"
The dwarf's face still throbbed with pain. "Thanks to you, I'm just fine."
Gao Yang said, "If Sixth Senior Brother isn't satisfied, we can spar again — only not inside the Azure Mountain Sect. How about we take it outside?"
Implicitly: I couldn't kill you inside the Sect; once we're outside, life and death are up to fate.
All eyes fell on the dwarf.
He hesitated.
Losing wasn't the fear.
The dwarf had lost to many people before.
What terrified him was Gao Yang's maniacal fighting style and those inexplicable techniques he used. Every time that dark Qi flared from Gao Yang, it was as if something ancient and starving crawled through the cracks of reality. It wasn't just pain that gripped him then — it was a whisper that promised his end, a suffocating sense that the world itself recoiled from that presence.
As a flash of pain seized him, something rose inside — the ghost of that memory. He could almost feel Gao Yang's shadow wrapping around his throat, pressing him down into a pit that stank of rot and blood.
At that moment he wanted to kneel, to beg for mercy — he felt a fear even stronger than when facing the Immortal Mistress. The taste of bile rose in his mouth; every breath rasped like sandpaper through a throat gone dry. It was an undefinable, wordless terror that burrowed straight into the marrow of his bones.
After Gao Yang finished speaking, an awkward stillness settled over the room. The air thickened — no one dared breathe too loudly.
No one said a word — a deathly hush.
Finally, the Senior Brother broke the stalemate. "Let's eat."
Only then did the dwarf breathe out, as if relieved, and threatened, "You got lucky. Watch yourself — I won't let this go."
Gao Yang sneered. "Fine. I'll be waiting."
The dwarf left thoroughly cowed; he would no longer be a concern.
Normally Gao Yang would slip away alone and skip the meal. But today he stayed. There was something almost serene in his stillness — the kind of calm that precedes a storm.
The Senior Brother, curious, asked, "Has Thirteen come to his senses?"
He set a plate of egg-fried rice in front of Gao Yang: golden, fragrant, and steaming gently. For a brief moment, the warm scent almost felt comforting — a whisper of normalcy in a place where such things were rare.
At the same time, he exchanged a glance with the Twelfth Sister.
Her eyes also settled on Gao Yang, gauging his decision. There was a quiet sharpness in her expression, like a blade hidden beneath silk.
Gao Yang lowered his head — and froze. The pearly rice writhed, each grain twisting and swelling, a pale, glistening worm undulating in slow rhythm. The aroma soured into something meaty and wet, like rotting flesh warmed by the hearth. A faint buzzing filled his ears, like the chorus of flies gathering around a corpse.
His stomach clenched. The Senior Brother's smile didn't waver.
The plate the Senior Brother handed him was his own food.
Only then did Gao Yang notice: the plates in front of the Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, and the Twelfth Sister were all untouched — sitting there, steaming faintly, as if waiting for someone else to take the first bite.
The first time he tried to eat in the refectory he had vomited and fled.
He had never dined there since.
Now he understood — he wasn't the only one avoiding the refectory food.
No wonder the Twelfth Sister had given him half a steamed bun.
Seeing everything clearly, Gao Yang smiled faintly. "Senior Brother, I'm not hungry. I stayed behind because I want to say something to Sixth Senior Brother."
The tension lightened, curiosity flickering across the room. Chopsticks paused midair.
The dwarf lifted his head. "If it's an apology, you can spare me. I won't let you off."
"You misunderstand, Sixth Senior Brother." Gao Yang tapped his own face. "I'm tired of being injured and I don't have money for medicine. I wanted to borrow some silver from Sixth Senior Brother so the servants in charge of supplies can buy herbs."
The Senior Brother began, "Xiao Wu is an alchemist; she could—"
Gao Yang cut him off. "Senior Brother, I don't want to owe Sister a favor. I only want to borrow silver from Sixth Senior Brother."
The dwarf fell silent for a moment, then with a bang he leapt onto the table; plates crashed to the floor, shattering.
"You insolent brat!"
Gao Yang's face didn't change. "Sixth Senior Brother, we're fellow disciples. Surely one spar won't ruin our fellowship?"
The Senior Brother sighed. "Old Six, just give him some silver. After all, Thirteen's injured because of you."
The dwarf spat, "Nonsense — he did that to himself!"
The moment the word nonsense left his mouth, the Senior Brother's expression turned dark.
The dwarf realized his mistake and hurried to amend it. "Senior Brother, I didn't mean you — I meant this kid."
But in the Senior Brother's eyes a chill glinted beneath the smile. "It's all right. I'm not angry. About the silver…"
The dwarf slammed a silver ingot on the table. "Five taels. Is that enough? Kid, this isn't over between us!"
He left in a hurry.
The Senior Brother bowed slightly. "I have some business — I'll be going."
Watching them leave one after another, the Eighth Senior Brother snickered, "Heh, there's a good show coming."
Gao Yang picked up the silver and bowed. "Brothers, sisters, Thirteen will be going now. Enjoy your meal."
When the dwarf left the refectory, his steps quickened and he even used secret arts to speed away. The night beyond the hall was quiet — too quiet. The moon hung low, draped in mist like a dim lantern.
But he still couldn't shake the tall, gaunt figure behind him.
Each footstep echoed unnaturally — slow, deliberate, yet impossibly close. The sound scraped against his sanity, as if claws dragged across stone. The night wind hissed through the corridor like laughter from something unseen.
Sweat beaded on the dwarf's brow; he couldn't bear the pressure and turned, dropping to his knees. "Senior Brother, I was wrong!"
The Senior Brother scratched his head in his honest manner. "Old Six, what are you doing? I don't take it to heart, really."
As he spoke, the Senior Brother's body began to twist. Bones creaked like breaking branches, his limbs stretching, elongating until his silhouette blotted out the moonlight. Five meters high, flesh rippling under his robe — his face dissolving into a blur of melting features. Only two empty, cavernous eye sockets remained, and between them a mouth tore open, red and endless, as if grinning straight into the void.
A stench of copper and damp soil filled the air.
Before him the dwarf looked like a small blue rubber ball, trembling, helpless.
Terror hollowed him out. Every instinct screamed to run, but his legs were water. He could hear his own heartbeat — too fast, too loud — and underneath it, a faint wet sound, like something chewing.
The dwarf trembled, mucus and tears streaming from his nose and eyes. He sniffled and sobbed, "Senior Brother, I… I know I was wrong…"
Then the darkness moved.
Gao Yang followed the Senior Brother outside but found no one there.
Moments later a harrowing scream tore through the quiet — long, raw, and human only at its beginning. It ended in a sound like meat being pulled apart.
Gao Yang rushed toward the sound.
The dwarf knelt on the ground, his eyes rolled back, saliva drooling from his lips; he'd lost consciousness. Something sticky glistened on the ground beside him — Gao Yang didn't want to know if it was blood or something worse.
The Senior Brother stood to one side smiling benignly. Seeing Gao Yang, he greeted him warmly. "Thirteen, you can't keep skipping meals. How about staying for supper?"
The wind was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of rain and moss. Gao Yang's instincts still screamed, but he forced calm into his tone. "I appreciate it, Senior Brother, but I should go back to my books. Master said she'll help me with my Foundation Building next week, and I want to study The Detailed Explanation of Foundation Building before then."
The Senior Brother smiled — genuinely this time, or so it seemed. "What a pity. Cultivation is important — off you go, then."
Gao Yang bowed and left, the tension easing as he stepped beyond the doorway. The quiet night embraced him — still strange, still heavy, but not suffocating.
Not long after Gao Yang left, the Twelfth Sister followed.
Seeing the kneeling Sixth Senior Brother, she sneered, "That guy makes my skin crawl. I want to cut him down with a single stroke."
The Senior Brother folded his hands behind his back. "Not yet. Wait a while."
"Have you detected anything?" she asked.
He shook his head. "He refused me. Pity — only by bringing him to my room could we have a chance for a talk over tea."
"Should we use force?" she asked.
He said no. "Not possible. Our Master values him highly; if we lay a hand on him she'll sense it immediately."
The Twelfth Sister raised her foot and kicked the dwarf in the face. "Annoying!"
Back in his room, Gao Yang hadn't been there long when a furtive figure slipped the door open.
Xiao Man appeared, cradling three large white steamed buns and a chicken drumstick.
She handed Gao Yang the drumstick and two buns, sticking her tongue out. "Master, I stole these from the steward."
The dim lamplight softened her grin, and for a brief moment the room felt human again — a small bubble of warmth in an otherwise cold world.
Gao Yang set the silver on the floor. "Keep them."
Xiao Man panicked. "That's not right — Master, that's your silver."
Gao Yang glared and said sternly, "Take them and hold onto them. The silver does me no good. When you go home next month, I'll need you to do me a favor."