Yuan did not sleep that night.
He sat on the edge of his wooden bed, watching drops of rain leak through a crack in the roof and fall into a small copper basin.
He estimated that he had roughly three weeks.
He Long had said, I’ll be back, and behind those words was a simple calculation.
The son of a great family could not stay away from his branch’s training and obligations for more than a month without questions following him.
The young man needed three weeks to decide what to do with the secret he had discovered, and Yuan needed the same amount of time to decide how to deal with him.
He had two choices: make him an ally, or get rid of him.
“What do you think of him?” Yuan asked the Merchant in the depths of his consciousness.
My opinion is that you owe your life to his arrogance, the Merchant replied dryly.
If he had closed his fingers around your throat at that moment, you would be a corpse by now.
“My question is about his intentions, not his skill.”
A young man concealing a rare discovery from his elders.
The Merchant’s tone shifted into that of a merchant inspecting a valuable item.
That means he wants a personal gain that he does not intend to share with anyone.
His greed is his weakness, and it is your way in.
Yuan considered the second option first: killing him.
He Long was a Soul Core cultivator, while the most Yuan could accomplish by borrowing the Soldier’s strength was to imitate the speed of a fighter at the peak of Essence Refinement for a few breaths before the pain overwhelmed his body.
A direct confrontation would be certain suicide.
And even if He Long fell to some trick, the disappearance of a He Family son near this warehouse would send investigators from both families digging through the district stone by stone.
That left only the first option.
Make him a tool for you, the Merchant said.
Just as you did with Ming Hao and Lin Shui.
The difference is that this young man possesses real strength.
Over the following days, Yuan gathered every thread he could find concerning the He Family.
He met the servant girl by the back wall of the kitchen at dusk.
She sat on a broken stone, rubbing dry flour from her fingers while her eyes watched the corner of the alley.
“The servants talk about the He branch quite often,” she said quietly.
“Ming keeps a close watch on their movements.
There are two brothers in the eastern branch.
The elder has earned the elders’ favor, and the reports are submitted under his name.
The younger, He Long, is more capable than him, but they deliberately keep him in the background.”
“Is that confirmed?”
“That’s what the family’s cooks say, and the masters’ kitchens don’t lie about things like this.”
She wiped her palms against her apron and asked, “Why are you interested in him?”
“Because I’ll be meeting him soon.”
She raised her head toward him for a moment, then lowered her eyes without asking anything else.
Over the past month, she had learned that her continued place beside him depended on one thing: never asking for explanations he did not offer.
The nights passed, and Yuan analyzed every piece of information with cold detachment.
He Long was not driven by rebellion.
He was driven by deprivation.
He was someone who had been pushed into the shadows despite his ability, and men like that did not ask for mercy.
They searched for recognition and a place of their own.
He Long returned on the twenty-first day, after dusk.
He chose an alley behind an old leather warehouse, where the sharp smell of tar and tanning materials hung heavily in the air.
He was already waiting when Yuan arrived, his back against a stone wall and his arms folded across his chest.
Yuan stopped three steps away, leaving enough distance between them for two men who both understood that a single wrong movement could mean a fight.
Under the light of a distant lantern, Yuan examined his features.
He was half a head taller, with broad shoulders, short brown hair, and sharp brown eyes that met Yuan’s gaze without hesitation.
Scars from harsh sword training marked both his forearms.
“I told the elders nothing,” He Long began without preamble.
“But my time is up.
I want an explanation for what I saw.”
“You saw a man without energy pathways who found another way to protect himself,” Yuan replied in a perfectly even voice.
“A method that does not follow your schools.”
“A path for outcast cultivators.”
“Names do not change the result.”
“Understand that if I reveal this to the elders, you’ll be executed the same day.”
He Long said it while keeping his eyes fixed on Yuan’s.
“I know.
And I also know that you haven’t said a word for twenty-one days.
Your silence means you’re making calculations that go beyond simply having me executed.”
He Long fell silent.
Water dripped from the gutters into wooden barrels nearby.
Then he spoke in a low voice, almost as though stating a simple fact.
“If I submit a report about you tonight, you’ll be killed.
But the credit for discovering you will go to my elder brother.
He’s the one who stands before the elders, and he’s the one who always reaps the reward.
My efforts are stolen for his sake.”
That was exactly the admission Yuan had been waiting for.
“You’re standing in a long line behind your brother, waiting for a turn that will never come,” Yuan said calmly.
“As for me, they didn’t even allow me to approach the line.
But there is a third path.
One that does not end with my death, does not deprive you of your value, and gives you real weight beyond your brother’s shadow.”
He Long’s pupils narrowed.
He did not move, but his attention sharpened.
“Speak.”
Three, the Merchant counted in Yuan’s mind.
Three people have said the same word to you within two months.
Yuan continued.
“I’m not asking you to hide my existence forever.
I’m asking you to delay your report and watch me yourself.
With time, I’ll prove that I’m a resource belonging to you personally, not to your family.
When the fruit is ripe, you can present this achievement as its sole owner, at a time that forces the branch elders to recognize your standing.”
He Long considered the offer.
Yuan was not asking him to betray his family in blood.
He was asking for nothing more than a delay, a small maneuver of time that would secure him a gain of his own.
“And what guarantees that you won’t run away and disappear at the first opportunity?”
“There are no guarantees,” Yuan answered without hesitation.
“Promises are empty things with no value here.
The only real guarantee is mutual interest.
My remaining in the district gives you an opening and a source your brother does not possess.
If I try to run, I’ll lose everything I’ve built here and place myself under your family’s pursuit.
Cooperation benefits both of us more than a confrontation we would both lose.”
He Long stared at him for a long time, weighing his words and the steadiness of his body, empty of any cultivator’s energy.
Then he lowered his arms.
“Agreed.
I’ll delay the report.
But I’ll watch every step you take, and if I don’t see gains worth this risk, I’ll hand you over myself.”
“That’s fair.”
He Long turned and moved toward the edge of the alley at a quick pace, leaving Yuan alone amid the smell of leather and tar.
Yuan climbed a set of stone steps to a low rooftop and sat in the darkness, watching the alleys of the outer district.
Three people now knew pieces of his truth: Ming Hao, deceived by his own cleverness; Lin Shui, searching for the profits of trade while knowing nothing of Yuan’s origins; and He Long, who had witnessed his physical anomaly and mistaken it for a secret source of power that could be exploited.
Three people, and none of them possessed the complete picture.
You’re beginning to understand the game, the Merchant said from behind the inner lock.
To make everyone move according to your calculations while they believe they are serving their own goals.
“Be quiet,” Yuan replied inwardly.
“The real work hasn’t even begun.”