The expulsion of Gang and the demotion of Xiao Li sent a ripple of fearful conformity through the menial disciples. The West Quadrant grew quieter, the only sounds the scrape of tools and the soft, forced exhalations of channeled qi. The incident was a stark lesson: failure and even perceived incompetence had brutal consequences. The air grew thicker with suppressed anxiety, a richer, more potent fuel for the silent disciple known as Mo Ye.
He drank it all in. The fear was a vintage superior to mere despair. It had a sharp, metallic tang that the Violet Soul Flame seemed to particularly relish. His cultivation, fed by this constant, low-grade terror, continued its imperceptible but steady growth. The Soul Flame burned a little colder, a little brighter in the abyssal darkness of his dantian.
A week after the incident, a shift occurred in the monotonous routine. Overseer Zhang, his face still pinched with the annoyance of having lost one of his more "effective" bullies, assembled them at dawn.
"The Inner Sect Alchemy Pavilion has put in a rush order for Luminous Roots," he announced, his voice grating. "The purity must be impeccable. No flaws, no blemishes, and the glow must be consistent. You will work in pairs. The pair that produces the highest yield of Grade-A roots by the end of the week will be excused from night watch duties for a month."
A faint buzz of excitement went through the crowd. A month without the soul-crushing boredom of patrolling the empty outer sect grounds in the dead of night was a treasure beyond spirit stones.
Zhang began reading out pairs. Most were predictable, grouping disciples who worked in adjacent plots. Then he read, "Mo Ye. And Li Na."
Mo Ye's gaze flickered. Li Na was the wiry woman with the twin short swords from Uncle Hei's mercenary band. She had kept to herself since entering the sect a few days after him, securing a menial disciple position through her own, unknown means. Her cultivation was a solid fourth-stage Qi Condensation, and her eyes held a veteran's wariness that set her apart from the other wide-eyed hopefuls.
She met his gaze across the crowd and gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. There was no warmth in it, only a cool recognition.
They were assigned a plot at the far end of the quadrant, slightly more shaded and known for producing roots that were more potent but also more temperamental.
As they began their work, the silence between them was a tangible thing. Li Na worked with a ruthless efficiency, her movements economical and precise. She didn't waste a single motion. After an hour of weeding in silence, she spoke, her voice low, not looking at him.
"Uncle Hei was asking about you."
Mo Ye didn't pause in his work. "I am no longer 'Tian.'"
"I can see that," she said, her tone dry. "He thought you had spirit. Was sorry to see you go. The Blaze-Tailed Fox hunt was a success. They made a small fortune."
"That is good to hear."
Another stretch of silence, filled only by the sound of dirt shifting and the faint hum of the gardens.
"The boy, Gang," Li Na said, her voice dropping even further. "A convenient accident."
Mo Ye finally stopped, looking up at her. Her eyes were on him now, sharp and assessing. She was not accusing him. She was stating a fact she believed to be true.
"Accidents happen," Mo Ye replied, his voice flat. "Especially to the clumsy and the cruel."
A faint, grim smile touched Li Na's lips. "Indeed." She returned to her weeding. "The world inside these walls is no different from the one outside. Just prettier. And more poisonous."
This was a test. She was probing, trying to see the shape of the ghost beneath the grey robes. She had seen him in the Whispering Vale, the "lucky" spotter. She had likely heard the story of his entry into the sect, the bearer of tragic news. And now, she had seen a bully who had crossed his path meet with a disastrous, perfectly timed "accident." Coincidence was a story for fools, and Li Na was no fool.
He had a choice. Deny it and maintain a wall, or acknowledge it and potentially gain a useful, if dangerous, asset.
"The poison is often the most effective medicine," Mo Ye said, a cryptic answer that was neither confirmation nor denial.
Li Na grunted, a sound of understanding. "The Zhao clan is tightening its grip on the city's spirit stone trade," she said, changing the subject smoothly. "Raising tariffs on independent miners. Squeezing the small guilds. People are getting desperate."
This was information. A offering. She was showing him her value.
"Desperate people make poor decisions," Mo Ye commented, carefully channeling a wisp of his fake qi into a Luminous Root. "And attract the attention of… larger predators."
"Predators like the Verdant Sword Sect?" she asked, her tone innocent.
"Predators come in many forms," he replied. "Some wear robes. Others wear smiles."
They worked for another hour in a silence that was now charged with a new understanding. They were not friends. They were not allies in the traditional sense. They were two predators who had recognized a similar scent on each other—the scent of survival, of calculation, of operating in the shadows.
For the rest of the week, they worked with a synchronicity that was unnerving. Li Na's experience with herbs from her mercenary days made her an expert at judging their readiness. Mo Ye, with his hyper-acute senses, could spot the subtlest imperfections in the roots' glow that others would miss. They said little, communicating with gestures and a shared, ruthless standard for quality.
When Overseer Zhang came to inspect their yield at the week's end, he was visibly surprised. Their plot had produced nearly thirty percent more Grade-A Luminous Roots than any other pair. The roots were flawless, their glow steady and bright.
"How…?" he muttered, picking up a root and examining it. He looked between the silent, unassuming Mo Ye and the grimly competent Li Na. "Fine. You win. The night watch exemption is yours. Don't get used to it."
As Zhang moved on, Li Na looked at Mo Ye. "A month of uninterrupted nights. Useful."
"Very," Mo Ye agreed.
It was then that they saw him. Luo Feng was standing at the edge of the garden path, watching the proceedings. His gaze was not on the overseer or the prize-winning roots, but on Mo Ye. The faint, puzzled irritation from their first encounter had not faded; it had deepened into a more active curiosity. He had seen the results. He had seen the silent, unremarkable disciple who kept producing unexpected outcomes.
Luo Feng did not approach. He simply watched for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before turning and disappearing down the path.
"The young master's interest is piqued," Old Man Kui whispered, a note of warning in his tone. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It can be a sharper weapon than hatred."
I know, Mo Ye replied, watching the empty path where Luo Feng had stood. But it is a two-edged sword. His curiosity about the stone may lead him to overlook the volcano beneath it.
With the night watch exemption, Mo Ye's world expanded. The silent, sleeping hours of the sect were now his to command. While others patrolled or slept, he could move, he could observe, he could plan.
He was no longer just a menial disciple feeding on scraps of emotion. He had gained a sliver of freedom. He had made a contact in Li Na, a source of information from both inside and outside the sect walls. And he had drawn the measured attention of a player with significant influence.
The ghost was no longer just hiding in the house. It was learning the floorplan, noting the positions of the guards, and identifying the other occupants who moved in the shadows. The unseen currents of the sect were beginning to flow around him, and Lin Tianyao was learning to swim.