Many miles from the Sui family mountain, where forge peaks shimmered amid a permanent haze cast off by shaping-array furnaces, the inner hall of the Beng family glowed with cold blue spirit-light reflecting off walls carved with formation patterns only masters of this art could read.
Beng family's patriarch, the man known as "the Great Array Elder" Beng Chong Li, sat on his raised stone chair, his sharp grey eyes moving between the four people who made up his family's inner council. Unlike Sui's broad-built elders, he was thin, with long delicate fingers more befitting an artist than a warrior—and it was precisely these fingers that had drawn the most dangerous formation in his family's history over the past decade.
"So, everything is proceeding exactly as we planned."
Beng Yi, the patriarch's youngest son, spoke first—still in the bloom of youth but with ambition in his eyes far beyond his years.
"Sui's elixir and grain exports dropped by more than a third this season. The whole market is talking about it, and merchants are raising prices daily, citing the shortage. This can only mean one thing: that pest outbreak hit their farms harder than even we anticipated."
Beng Chong Li smiled a thin smile that never reached his eyes.
"Exactly, my son. Even we didn't expect this little trick to succeed this well. One small gap in their defensive formation, a handful of beetle eggs, and now an entire family teeters on the edge of economic collapse."
From the side of the hall, an elderly man in a simple grey robe stepped forward—the family's military advisor, Beng Sheng, known for his excessive caution and cold analysis unmoved by the prevailing euphoria in the room.
"I don't want to spoil this moment, Patriarch, but I must remind everyone that we have no direct confirmation from inside the Sui mountain itself. All we're relying on is what reaches us through market rumors and merchant prices."
Beng Yi frowned with displeasure.
"What more do you want than this? The numbers don't lie, Advisor. Who voluntarily cuts their main exports if not a family drowning in a real crisis?"
"Perhaps no one," Sheng replied calmly, weighing every word. "Or perhaps a family that realizes every eye in this region is watching them now, and decided to play the wounded victim on purpose, for a purpose we don't yet know."
A short silence fell before Patriarch Beng Chong Li let out a dry laugh.
"You're always cautious, Sheng, and that trait has kept us alive all these years. But let me ask you: even if there's some small chance they're putting on an act, doesn't this opportunity deserve the risk? When was the last time we saw the Sui family this visibly weakened, whether real or manufactured?"
Sheng didn't answer immediately, bowing his head slightly as he reorganized his thoughts.
"I agree this is a rare opportunity, Patriarch. I only ask for caution in execution, not abandonment of the plan."
A woman who had been sitting silently until that moment approached—the patriarch's eldest daughter, Beng Ru, who had handled the family's foreign relations for years.
"Let me clarify the full picture for whoever hasn't grasped it yet." She spoke with the tone of one who knew exactly what she was saying. "We don't actually need definitive proof of Sui's weakness. All we need is a single spark, one incident, to push the Sun family into believing Sui has become an easy target worth seizing a share of the elixir trade from, before some other rival claims it first."
She looked directly at her father.
"If Sun becomes convinced of this, and moves against Sui alone or with our outward assistance, then the resulting war, whatever its outcome, will drain Sun significantly. And then, only then, will we be in a strong enough position to demand a fair redivision of the red-copper mine's proceeds... or perhaps something far greater than that."
The patriarch smiled proudly at his daughter and nodded in agreement.
"That's exactly what I meant to say, with less eloquence. The spark, Sheng, not a full war. Have our men spread a few more rumors in the market, something suggesting Sui is hiding something bigger than a mere pest outbreak, something that makes Sun move on its own without us needing to lift a finger."
Sheng bowed his head reluctantly, not fully convinced but recognizing the patriarch's decision was final.
"I will carry that out, Patriarch. But I will continue watching for any sign that all of this isn't as it appears."
"Do that," the patriarch replied, rising to declare the meeting over. "Caution will never hurt us. But hesitation, at a moment like this, could cost us the opportunity of a lifetime."
Two days' distance from there, in a hall far grander and louder, where walls polished with rare metals gleamed and the smell of molten ore lingered in the air even deep within the palace, Sun family's patriarch, Sun Hao Tian, turned a small folded piece of paper between his fingers, his features betraying deep confusion.
He was a massive man, with an old scar running down his left cheek—a remnant of some ancient battle no one had ever spoken of—and his voice, when he spoke, resembled the ring of hammers on an anvil.
"Read it to me again, Ke."
His advisor, Sun Ke, a thin man with delicate features that betrayed sharp intelligence, stepped forward and picked up the paper carefully, as though he feared it might explode in his hands.
"'To the honorable Patriarch of the Sun family, know that a certain party within your current alliance intends to bite the hand that has raised it for twenty years. Watch your shares carefully, for betrayal is sometimes planned in silence, while loyalty is announced only in public.' No signature, no crest, no trace pointing to the sender."
Sun Hao Tian threw his body back into his wide chair, his massive fingers drumming on the armrest in a nervous rhythm.
"A certain party within our current alliance? We have only one active alliance, and one doesn't need genius to realize it means Beng."
Ke objected with extreme caution.
"That's the easiest and most obvious conclusion, Patriarch, and perhaps that's precisely what the sender wants from us. It's far easier to send a vague letter like this to plant doubt between two allies, without carrying any real evidence, just to watch the alliance crumble from within while reaping the rewards from outside."
Sun Hao Tian stopped drumming on the armrest and looked at his advisor with narrowed eyes.
"Who do you think the sender is, then, if not Beng itself testing our loyalty through some twisted method?"
"I don't know yet," Ke answered honestly. "But let me raise another possibility we haven't considered: what if the Sui family itself sent this letter?"
Sun Hao Tian let out a loud, dry laugh.
"Sui? That small farming family currently collapsing economically because of some trivial pest outbreak? What makes you think of such an absurd possibility?"
"Because this is exactly the kind of move a family that appears weak on the surface would make when it wants to divert its potential enemies' attention away from itself, and turn them against each other," Ke replied with unshaken calm. "Think about the timing, Patriarch. The letter arrived just weeks after Sui's exports began declining. What if all this apparent weakness is merely a curtain, and what Sui is actually doing is trying to ignite a conflict between us and our ally, so it can slip away from everyone's attention entirely?"
A long silence fell over the hall as Sun Hao Tian reconsidered every detail from scratch.
"That's... a far-fetched possibility, Ke. But not impossible."
"Exactly, Patriarch. And that's why I suggest you not act hastily toward Beng based on an anonymous letter we have no evidence for. Instead, let's open a quiet investigation, watch Beng's movements closely without arousing their suspicion, and simultaneously look into Sui's actual economic situation. If the letter is true, we'll discover that soon enough without needlessly risking our current alliance. And if it's a deliberate lie, we'll find its true source in due time."
Sun Hao Tian thought at length, his fingers returning to drum on the armrest, but at a slower, more deliberate rhythm this time.
"Very well. We won't move directly. But I want additional eyes on Beng from now on, and other eyes on Sui as well. If there's a game being played here, I won't be the last one to understand its rules."
He folded the paper carefully and placed it in his private desk drawer, but the look of suspicion that had settled in his eyes didn't leave them even after his advisor left the hall.
The seed had been planted.
High atop the Sui family mountain, where no foot but the patriarch's own ever trod, a forbidden peak rose wrapped year-round in thick white clouds, as though the mountain itself jealously guarded what lay within.
Sui Ming Zhao climbed the long stone staircase carved into the rock with steady steps, as he had done hundreds of times before, until he reached the entrance of a vast cave lit by a calm emerald-green light seeping from crystals hanging from its ceiling.
Deep within the cave, an old man sat on a simple stone platform, his eyes closed in deep meditation, his long white hair cascading around his shoulders like a waterfall of snow. His spiritual aura was faint now compared to what it had been in his youth, but even in this state, Ming Zhao felt the weight of his presence press upon his chest every time he drew near.
The Ancestor opened his eyes slowly, still carrying a sharp gleam despite his many years.
"Ming Zhao. I didn't expect your visit this soon after our last meeting."
The patriarch bowed deeply in respect before sitting on the ground facing the platform.
"I came to tell you the plan is proceeding as we designed it, Ancestor, and perhaps even better than we anticipated."
The Ancestor nodded slowly, waiting for details.
"I sent an anonymous letter to the Sun family," Ming Zhao began his explanation with the calm confidence of a strategist. "A letter that hints, without stating outright, that their current ally, the Beng family, is planning to turn against them at some point. No evidence, no names, just a small seed of doubt planted in already fertile ground."
"Fertile?" the Ancestor asked, one eyebrow raised slightly.
"The alliance between Sun and Beng was never one between equals, Ancestor, but an alliance built on clear exploitation; Beng owns seventy percent of the red-copper vein on its land, while Sun takes eighty percent of the profits in exchange for 'protection.' A relationship like that needs only a small push to reveal its true fragility to its own parties."
The Ancestor smiled a thin smile carrying clear appreciation.
"So you're not igniting a war, but exposing a crack that already existed."
"Exactly. Sun now suspects Beng, and will begin watching them closely, perhaps investigating their true intentions. Beng, meanwhile, believing their original plan—provoking us into attacking Sun—is succeeding brilliantly, will keep pushing Sun toward confronting us, unaware that Sun itself has become far less trusting of them than ever before. Their alliance, from the outside, will look exactly as it always has, solid and firm. But from within, it has become like a garment full of holes, waiting only for the moment a strong wind tears it apart."
The Ancestor remained silent for a moment, contemplating all this with his eyes nearly closed, before finally opening them and asking an unexpected question.
"But tell me, what will Sui gain from all this in the end, if it doesn't intend to attack anyone, nor does it intend to directly benefit from Sun or Beng's weakness?"
Ming Zhao smiled a calm smile, as though he had been waiting precisely for this question.
"The real benefit, Ancestor, doesn't lie in this small skirmish between Sun and Beng at all. The real benefit lies in another agreement, one we reached in complete silence with the Fang family's ancestor."
The Ancestor's eyebrow rose slightly—a rare sign of genuine interest.
"Fang? The family that buys our spirit herbs to make their medicines?"
"That very one. We exploited the elixir shortage crisis we ourselves fabricated, and proposed to Fang an arrangement profitable to both, but one that appears from the outside to serve Fang alone. We're converting additional quantities of elixir into concentrated medicinal grains exclusively for them during this crisis, in exchange for their commitment to buy these grains at triple the usual price per pill, given their artificially engineered scarcity in the current market. In return, we commit to not selling any raw elixir to any other party for the entire duration of the crisis, ensuring Fang remains the sole beneficiary of this shortage."
The Ancestor thought over this equation for a moment, then spoke with measured caution.
"But that means we're depriving ourselves of selling elixir to any other buyer, while gaining nothing but the cash Fang pays for the grains. Where is the real benefit to our family in all this, if Fang is the one profiting triple, and we're the ones selling at a pre-limited price?"
Ming Zhao's smile widened further, as though he had been waiting for this very moment to reveal the core of his plan.
"Because the real benefit, Ancestor, isn't monetary at all. We don't need more spirit stones in our treasury right now. We need something far more precious: time, and preparation."
He lowered his voice slightly, as though sharing a secret that shouldn't be heard even within this isolated cave.
"Our agreement with Fang isn't limited to selling grains. A core part of it, which we haven't disclosed to anyone yet, is that Fang will store large quantities of these very concentrated grains in their own warehouses, under their name, not ours, far from any scrutiny or suspicion, in preparation for the day we'll need them all at once."
The Ancestor's eyes widened slightly as he grasped the meaning.
"The Beast Tide."
Ming Zhao nodded slowly and gravely.
"Exactly fifty years, Ancestor, until that catastrophe strikes this region again, as it does every two hundred years. And when that day comes, it won't be the right time to search for suppliers, negotiate prices, or even manufacture grains from scratch under the pressure of an assault. We'll need ready, distributed stockpiles, that don't carry our family's name, so they don't become a target for any opportunist wanting to steal them before or during the catastrophe. Fang, with their secure warehouses and clean commercial reputation, is the perfect place to hide our real preparations in plain sight."
The Ancestor remained silent for a long moment, contemplating this multi-layered plan with silent admiration, before finally shaking his head in deep appreciation.
"I always knew you would become an exceptional patriarch, Ming Zhao, ever since you were a small child playing on this mountain. But I never imagined you would reach this level of long-term planning at this age."
Ming Zhao bowed with genuine respect.
"Everything I've learned, I learned from you and from our ancestors before you."
The Ancestor remained silent for another moment, as though another question had been brewing in his mind since the start of the conversation, before finally asking it in a tone carrying genuine fatherly concern.
"Tell me about the little one now. Lingxing Hua. I heard some incident occurred to him at the market."
Ming Zhao's features shifted slightly, losing the sharp determination he'd held while explaining his political schemes, replaced by something closer to genuine pride mixed with a bit of lingering worry.
"He was attacked by greedy mercenaries, who thought him easy prey after seeing him spend without restraint at the market. It had nothing to do with any political conspiracy, just bad luck and a small folly on his part."
"And did he survive unharmed?"
"Far more than that, Ancestor," Ming Zhao answered, a genuine proud smile beginning to creep onto his face. "Not only did he survive, but he returned with a rare spirit-insect tree we didn't even know existed in this region, and subdued an entire hive of Silver Cloud Bees by himself, forcing its queen into complete submission to his control. Tianmo told me she's never seen such an achievement from a cultivator at his level before."
The Ancestor's eyes widened with genuine interest this time.
"Silver Cloud Bees? And a spirit-insect tree too? This is... an achievement far exceeding what's expected of a boy at his level."
"It goes even further than that," Ming Zhao added with restrained excitement. "The Treasury Elder just told me he's on the verge of breaking through to the second level of Qi Refining, after just one year since he began cultivating."
The Ancestor shook his head slowly, his eyes carrying a strange gleam, like an old memory suddenly awakened.
"Those three roots of his, Wood, Water, and Earth, resemble my own roots greatly when I was his age. Let him continue on this path without pressuring him more than necessary, Ming Zhao. I feel this boy may carry something greater than mere strong roots."
The patriarch finally rose, bowing deeply once more in respect.
"I will pass your words on to him when the right time comes."
He left the cave with calm steps, leaving the Ancestor to sink back into his silent contemplation, while the sun began tilting toward sunset behind the distant mountain peaks.
Below, at the edge of the vibrant green field, Lingxing Hua sat cross-legged beside the trunk of the spirit-insect tree, the golden honey slab resting carefully between his palms.
He closed his eyes, summoning Tianmo's teachings on deep meditation, and began consuming the honey very slowly, drop by drop, trying to direct every particle of his accumulated spiritual energy toward his troubled dantian.
At first, he felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his limbs, like the first rays of morning sunlight. But this warmth soon turned into rising heat, then into real flames sweeping through his spiritual pathways, as though his entire body were being remelted from within.
He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his focus, but images began crowding into his mind without warning.
The masked man's cold eyes.
The dry sound of the fall onto the dirt.
The green arrow piercing his forehead.
Lingxing Hua's eyes snapped open, his breathing quickening, and for a moment he felt the energy flowing through his body beginning to scatter, slipping from his control.
*No... not now.*
He tried to refocus, but the image returned, clearer this time. He didn't just see the moment of the kill, but felt again that strange emptiness that had swept over him immediately after, that heavy silence he hadn't known how to interpret back then.
This was the first human being he had killed with his own hands.
He closed his eyes again, but this time he didn't try to push the memory away—instead, he let himself confront it face to face for the first time since that night.
*I had no other choice. Either him, or me. Either him, or the box of crabs I bought with my last hope, or my life, or even my mother's life, whom I haven't seen in so long."
He remembered his mother's weeping face that he had imagined in that critical moment, and felt something gradually settling within him.
"I'm not a killer without reason. I was defending myself, everyone I love, and everything I built with these two hands over a full year."
The rising heat in his body began to steady itself little by little, as though his internal acceptance of that moment had been the true key he'd been missing all along.
His eyes opened slowly, now shimmering with a faint green light that hadn't been there before.
He felt a massive wave of energy sweep through his dantian all at once, like a dam finally collapsing after long resistance. The ground beneath him trembled lightly, and the surrounding rice leaves shook as though responding to the energy emanating from him.
Now!
He pushed with all the will he had left toward that final resisting point in his pathways, and it finally exploded with a brilliant green light that illuminated the entire field for a brief moment.
Lingxing Hua sat silently amid this shimmering light, feeling his body renewed entirely, his soul finally settled, and a new strength coursing through his veins unlike anything he had felt before.
He finally opened his eyes and looked at his trembling hands in silent astonishment.
He had broken through to the second level of Qi Refining.
And around the trunk of the strange tree, the Silver Queen hovered calmly, as though she had been watching this entire moment from its very beginning, sensing by pure instinct that her new master had just become far stronger than he had been mere hours ago.