Gu Wujiu spent two days thoroughly mapping out the terrain of the Heart-Eater Sect's outer disciple district.
It was an old skill from his previous life. Back when he made his living in the urban village, Third Brother had taught him a saying: “You might not know who's going after you, but you have to know where to run.”
The outer disciple district was laid out like a crooked, twisted version of the character “回.” The outer ring held the dormitories, the center held a plaza and a martial practice yard, the northeastern corner contained a cluster of abandoned storage sheds, and the southwestern corner had the stone steps leading to the inner sect. That path was normally sealed by a restriction, and any outer disciple who approached would be bounced away.
He focused on three places.
The first was the abandoned storage shed in the northeastern corner, where he was currently sleeping. There were seven rooms in the area. Four had collapsed roofs, two were piled high with rotten lumber and broken scraps of metal, and only the innermost one was barely habitable. The advantage was its isolation—no one came here. The disadvantage was that it had only one exit.
He spent half a day finding a crack in the rear wall of the innermost room, then slowly widened it with a stone until it was just large enough for him to squeeze through sideways. It led to a drainage ditch, whose far end opened onto the edge of the outer disciple district.
His second escape route.
“Host,” the system said, its voice carrying a trace of curiosity, “are you digging a tunnel?”
“Rats dig tunnels. It's only natural.”
“You certainly have a clear grasp of your own identity.”
The second place was a dry well west of the plaza. A stone slab covered its mouth, and moss had grown over the slab, making it look as though no one had touched it in ages. He moved the slab aside and took a look. The well was shallow, maybe twenty feet deep. The bottom was dry and could conceal a person.
The third place concerned him the most.
In the southeastern corner of the outer disciple district stood a solitary stone building, twice the size of the other dormitories. A copper lock hung from its door. He hadn't paid attention the first time he passed it, but on his second pass, he noticed a detail: There was a shallow scratch on the threshold. It was fresh.
Someone had opened this door recently.
“System, what is that building?”
“Outer disciple storeroom. It holds miscellaneous items distributed to the outer disciples by the sect—pots, bowls, ladles, chopsticks, battered magical artifacts, abandoned pill furnaces, and the like. In theory, it falls under the outer sect steward's responsibility, but in practice, no one has managed it for a very long time.”
“How long is ‘a very long time’?”
“Based on the residual information, there have been no official opening records for at least three months.”
“But the scratch on the threshold is fresh.”
The system fell silent for two seconds.
“Host, your powers of observation occasionally make me think you shouldn't have gone into debt collection in your previous life. You should have been a detective.”
“Detectives don't make money.”
He didn't immediately investigate the building. His experience from his previous life told him not to rush into suspicious places. First, observe. See whether anyone else was paying attention to the place.
He found a corner nearby and squatted there for half a day.
No one came.
But he noticed something else. The storeroom's location happened to lie directly along the only route to the stone steps leading to the inner sect.
“System.”
“Here.”
“Do the body's original owner's memory fragments contain anything related to that storeroom?”
The system was silent longer than usual.
“Yes.” Its voice dropped very low. “A scene. Very blurry. In the darkness, light leaked through the crack in the door. And then—”
“And then?”
“And then came those words. ‘You shouldn't have seen that.’”
Gu Wujiu's fingers stopped on his knee.
The body's original owner had seen something in the storeroom. Then he had been killed to silence him.
He stood, dusted off his butt, and turned away.
He wasn't walking toward the storeroom. He was heading in the opposite direction.
“Host, aren't you going to take a look?” the system asked.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I still don't know who that Foundation Establishment cultivator is. Digging into someone's trump card before figuring out the opponent is suicide.” He paused. “First, I need to understand what the original Gu Wujiu's situation in the sect was. Who he knew, who he spoke to, and what he did in the days before he died.”
“How do you plan to investigate?”
“The stupidest way.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Ask people.”
There was an art to asking people questions, too.
Asking outright, “What happened before Gu Wujiu died?” was the same as writing “I'm investigating” across his face. Back when he had gathered information for Third Brother, he never asked directly. He would circle around the subject in conversation, and before long, the other person would spill everything they should and shouldn't have said.
He found Zhou Xiao'an.
“Did you know the original Gu Wujiu?”
Zhou Xiao'an tilted his head and thought for a moment. “I mean… I saw him a few times? He didn't really talk to people. He spent most of his time alone. Everyone said he was a weirdo.”
“What made him weird?”
“It's just… when other new disciples came in, they would all try to find someone to back them, or at least find a companion. He ignored everyone and spent every day by himself in a corner. Sometimes he would even walk around outside in the middle of the night.”
Gu Wujiu's eyebrows twitched.
“He walked around outside in the middle of the night?”
“Yeah. Once, I got up to use the bathroom and saw him coming back from that alley to the east. It was almost dawn.” Zhou Xiao'an scratched his head. “I thought he couldn't sleep.”
That alley to the east. The storeroom was to the east.
“What about the day he died? Was there anything unusual?”
Zhou Xiao'an's expression changed, a trace of unease appearing on his face.
“That day… I remember seeing him in the morning. He was sitting in the plaza, alone as usual. Then in the afternoon, I heard that he was dead. They said he'd suffered cultivation deviation.”
“Who said that?”
“The steward. The outer sect steward came to notify us and had people… had people carry away the body.” Zhou Xiao'an's voice grew quieter and quieter. “They moved fast. I heard the body was dealt with that same day. It wasn't even kept overnight.”
Gu Wujiu's eyes narrowed slightly.
The body had been dealt with that same day.
In the urban village, that was called “making the evidence disappear.”
“The outer sect steward,” he asked. “What's his name?”
“Steward Qian. Qian Youde.” Zhou Xiao'an thought for a moment, then added, “He's not a bad person, just… timid. He does whatever the people above him say and never asks questions.”
Timid. Never asks questions.
People like that were the easiest to use. They wouldn't take the initiative to hurt anyone, but if someone above them told them to do something, they would do it—including disposing of a body that shouldn't have been dealt with so quickly.
“System,” he asked inwardly, “what's Qian Youde's cultivation level?”
“Fifth level of Qi Condensation. Standard issue for an outer sect steward.”
Fifth level of Qi Condensation. Four levels higher than him, but far below Foundation Establishment. This man couldn't be the murderer who killed the body's original owner, but he was very likely a pawn ordered around by the murderer.
He needed to have a talk with Qian Youde.
But not now.
Right now, he had a more pressing problem—his cultivation progress.
Two days had passed, and his cultivation method synchronization progress had crawled from three percent to eleven percent. It was a little faster than the system had predicted, but still slow enough to make him anxious. Every cultivation session was like fighting a small tug-of-war inside his meridians. The new qi and old qi pushed against each other, hurting so badly that sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Eleven percent,” the system announced. “At the current rate, the first stage of synchronization is expected to require another eight to ten days.”
“Is there any way to speed it up?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Accumulate more merit. When your Merit Points reach a certain threshold, the system will unlock support functions, including meridian clearing.”
“What threshold?”
“One hundred.”
He currently had thirty-five. He was sixty-five short.
“So I need to do another six or seven good deeds.”
“At least.” The system paused. “However, the frequency of quest activation has declined recently. It may be because the evaluation just ended and everyone is recovering from their injuries. For the time being, there aren't many people who need help.”
“Once evil sect disciples finish healing, they'll go right back to hurting each other. There's no shortage of business.”
“Your understanding of human nature is pessimistic, but astonishingly accurate.”
He was about to continue cultivating when he suddenly heard a burst of footsteps outside.
It wasn't one person. It was several.
And unlike the loose, careless footsteps of the outer disciples, these were orderly and powerful, carrying an oppressive presence.
He peered outside through the crack in the storage shed.
Three people came down from the direction of the stone steps leading to the inner sect. A young man in black robes walked in front. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a cold, stern face and a jade token hanging from his waist. Two gray-robed disciples followed behind him with their heads lowered, like a pair of dogs with their tails between their legs.
Black robes.
Outer disciples wore gray robes, while inner disciples wore black. He had learned that from Zhou Xiao'an.
“System, what's the cultivation level of the one in black?”
“Second level of Foundation Establishment.”
Gu Wujiu's pupils contracted slightly.
Foundation Establishment.
He instinctively shrank backward, hiding himself in the darkest corner of the storage shed.
The three people passed outside the storage shed, their footsteps drawing nearer, then fading into the distance. The young man in black swept his gaze over the abandoned area like he was looking over a pile of garbage, without stopping.
But Gu Wujiu noticed one detail.
As the young man in black passed by, his gaze paused for a moment in the southeast.
The southeast.
The direction of the storeroom.
The footsteps faded away. Gu Wujiu leaned against the wall, his fingers unconsciously tapping the ground.
“System.”
“Here.”
“Who is that person?”
“Insufficient information. Unable to determine. Information on inner disciples is outside the outer sect system's access permissions.”
“Then what was he doing in the outer sect?”
“Inner disciples occasionally come to the outer sect to select servants or collect supplies. It isn't unusual.”
“But he looked at the storeroom.”
The system fell silent for three seconds.
“Host, I have a suggestion.”
“Go ahead.”
“Stop investigating.”
Gu Wujiu froze. This was the first time the system had ever advised him to back down.
“Why?”
“Because the complexity of this matter may exceed your current ability to survive. You are currently at the first level of Qi Condensation with thirty-five Merit Points. You can't even beat someone at the third level of Qi Condensation. If this matter involves an inner-sect Foundation Establishment cultivator—”
“Then I have even more reason to get to the bottom of it.”
“…Why?”
“Because if I don't get to the bottom of it, I won't know when I'm going to die.” Gu Wujiu's voice was calm. “I understood one principle very early in my previous life: You can hide, but you need to know who you're hiding from. If you don't know who you're hiding from, every place you hide is a dead end.”
The system was silent for a long time.
“Merit System operation log, day eight,” it said, its voice as light as a mutter. “Host behavior pattern assessment: highly rational, extremely pragmatic, low risk tolerance but an exceptionally high preference for information. Revised life expectancy assessment… unchanged.”
“What are you muttering about?”
“Nothing.” The system's tone returned to normal. “I was just thinking that if you'd gone to school instead of collecting debts in your previous life, you probably would have become a very impressive person by now.”
“School doesn't make money.”
“Debt collection didn't make you any money either. You died.”
Gu Wujiu didn't respond.
He walked out of the storage shed and circled around through the drainage ditch. Only after confirming that the three people had gone far away did he return to his disciple dormitory.
Everything in the dormitory was as usual. The oil lamp he had deliberately left on the table was still in place, and the ash on the wick hadn't been disturbed. The hair he had used to mark the door was intact as well.
No one had come.
Or rather, someone had come but hadn't gone inside.
He sat on the bed and went over the information he had gathered that day in his mind.
The body's original owner had walked around the eastern alley in the middle of the night. There was a fresh scratch on the storeroom's threshold. The body's original owner had been dealt with the very day he died. The outer sect steward, Qian Youde, was timid and obedient. An inner-sect Foundation Establishment cultivator had glanced at the storeroom.
These fragments still couldn't form a complete picture, but the outline was already faintly visible—
There was something in the storeroom. The body's original owner had seen it. Then the body's original owner had died.
Now, someone was confirming whether the “dead man” was really dead.
And another person—the inner disciple in black—also seemed to be watching that storeroom.
Was it the same person? Or two different groups?
He didn't know.
But he knew one thing: He couldn't keep waiting passively.
“System.”
“Here.”
“Tomorrow, I'm going to see Qian Youde.”
“How do you plan to approach him?”
The corner of Gu Wujiu's mouth lifted slightly.
“The most natural way.” He lay down and pulled the tattered robe over himself. “I'll go collect this month's ration of fasting pills.”
The system froze for a second.
“…The ration isn't distributed until the beginning of the month. Today is the twenty-ninth.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes. “That's why tomorrow I'll go ask him when they'll be distributed. Then I'll chat with him for a couple of minutes. What we talk about isn't important. What's important is making sure he sees my face.”
“What good will it do for him to see your face?”
“A dead man suddenly standing in front of you asking for fasting pills…” Gu Wujiu's voice gradually faded, carrying a trace of drowsiness. “What do you think his expression will be?”
The system was silent for a long time.
Then it said, with a hint of admiration it hadn't even realized it felt, “Host, what do you call this move?”
“Rattling the grass to startle the snake.”
“But you're the snake.”
“A snake can rattle the grass too.” Gu Wujiu rolled over. “As long as the grass doesn't know where the snake is.”
Outside the window, the fog hung heavy.
A bell rang faintly in the distance, deep and lingering, as though it had risen from the depths beneath the earth.
He closed his eyes to the sound of the bell.
Tomorrow, he was going fishing.
Using himself as bait.