Gu Wujiu had set a rule for himself: cultivate during the day, stake out locations at night.
Not both at once. Third Brother had taught him in his previous life that a person's energy was limited. Trying to do two things at the same time meant doing both badly. So he split his time in half—during the day, he hid in the abandoned storage room and worked on harmonizing his cultivation method; at night, he came out to observe the activity around the maintenance room.
His progress in harmonizing the cultivation method was a little faster than he'd expected.
Eleven percent, thirteen, fifteen, eighteen—
He advanced two or three percentage points a day. The conflict between the new qi and old qi in his meridians was growing smaller and smaller, changing from "two people shoving each other in a narrow alley" at the beginning to "two people barely squeezing along together." It still hurt, but the pain had changed from a dull ache to a soreness, like the kind you felt after running.
On the third night, twenty-four percent.
"Host." The system's voice rang out, carrying a rare trace of seriousness. "The first stage of harmonization is expected to take another four to five days. But there's something I need to tell you in advance."
"Go ahead."
"When harmonization reaches thirty percent, there will be a critical point. The new and old qi will clash violently in your dantian, lasting approximately fifteen minutes."
"How painful?"
"About as painful as... having someone slowly draw a dull knife across your internal organs."
Gu Wujiu's eyebrow twitched.
"Is it dangerous?"
"You won't die. But if you're interrupted during those fifteen minutes, all your previous harmonization progress will reset to zero."
"Reset to zero?"
"All of it. You'll start over from zero percent."
He was silent for five seconds.
"So I need to find an absolutely safe place and make sure no one disturbs me for those fifteen minutes."
"Correct."
Leaning against the wall, he tapped his fingers against his knee three times.
The abandoned storage room had an escape opening in the back wall, but it wasn't concealed enough. If that Foundation Establishment cultivator came again, Gu Wujiu wouldn't be able to escape during the critical moment of harmonization. The dry well was too narrow; if something went wrong, he wouldn't even have enough room to turn over.
He needed a new place.
"I'll think about it tomorrow." He closed his eyes. "First, I'll take care of tonight's real business."
The Heart-Eater Sect was quieter at night than during the day—and more dangerous.
The fog grew thicker after nightfall, reducing visibility to less than fifteen feet. Gu Wujiu kept close to the wall, placing his feet as lightly as possible and slowing his breathing to a crawl. In his previous life, while hiding from debt collectors in the urban village, he'd developed a set of "night-walking techniques." They weren't martial arts, just tricks for walking without making a sound. He placed the balls of his feet down first, followed with his heels, and kept his center of gravity low, like a cat slinking along the base of a wall.
This was his third consecutive night observing the maintenance room.
He hadn't discovered anything on the first two nights. The copper lock on the maintenance room hadn't budged, no light showed through the crack beneath the door, and there had been no one nearby.
But tonight was different.
The moment he turned into the alley at the southeast corner, he stopped.
It wasn't because he'd seen something. He'd smelled something.
A very faint odor mingled with the fog, appearing and disappearing. It wasn't the smell of rot or incense. It was something indescribable that made the back of his head prickle. Like something was burning—but not wood, and not incense sticks.
"System."
"Here." He noticed that the system had lowered its voice too, instinctively becoming alert along with him.
"Can you smell that?"
"I don't have a nose. But I've detected abnormal fluctuations in the concentration of spiritual energy in the air. The source of the fluctuations—"
"The maintenance room."
"Yes."
Gu Wujiu didn't move forward. He retreated to the mouth of the alley and found a corner where he could see in the direction of the maintenance room without being spotted. Then he crouched down.
And waited.
His stakeout experience from his previous life told him that the worst thing he could do in a situation like this was act on impulse. He didn't know what was inside, whether anyone was watching, or whether this was a trap. The only correct thing to do was crouch, watch, and wait.
He waited for about half an hour.
Then he saw it.
A figure emerged from the direction of the maintenance room.
It wasn't walking. It was floating. There was almost no sound of footsteps. Its form appeared and disappeared in the fog like a moving shadow. A black robe, the hood pulled low enough to hide the face.
Gu Wujiu's pupils contracted sharply.
A black robe.
The same kind of black robe as the inner disciple he'd seen in the abandoned storage room before—no, in Chapter Seven. No, not Chapter Seven. Before.
But he couldn't be sure it was the same person. That time, he'd only seen the person's front. This time, he could only see the person's back. The build... seemed about the same? But the fog was too thick for him to make it out clearly.
The figure headed west down the alley and soon disappeared into the fog.
Gu Wujiu waited another fifteen minutes. Only after confirming there was no second person did he slowly stand.
He didn't go to the maintenance room.
He turned and walked in the opposite direction.
"Host, aren't you going to take a look?" the system asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because that person just left. If there's some kind of mechanism or restriction in the maintenance room, going there now would be walking straight into a net someone else already set." He paused. "Besides—"
"Besides?"
"That person went west. West is the direction of the stone steps leading to the inner sect."
The system was silent for two seconds.
"So that person came down from the inner sect."
"They came down from the inner sect in the middle of the night, stayed in the maintenance room for who knows how long, and then went back." Gu Wujiu lightly tapped a finger against the wall. "This isn't an occasional visit. It's periodic."
"How do you know it's periodic?"
"The scratches on the threshold. There isn't just one. There are several, of different depths. That means the door has been opened and closed repeatedly, many times."
He returned to the abandoned storage room, squeezed through the crack in the back wall, and sat down in the darkness.
Another piece had joined the puzzle in his mind.
There was something inside the maintenance room. Someone came regularly to deal with that something. That person belonged to the inner sect and wore a black robe. The body's original owner had seen whatever it was and been silenced.
But there was still one unanswered question—
Was the Foundation Establishment cultivator who had stood outside the disciple dormitory for five seconds the same person as the black-robed figure who came and went from the maintenance room at night?
"System, can you compare them?"
"Insufficient information. The person last time had concealed their aura. This time, the distance was too great and the fog interfered. Confirmation is impossible."
"Then I'll look again."
"You plan to continue the stakeout?"
"No more staking out. After three days, I've confirmed the pattern—they come at least once every two or three days. Next time they come, I won't watch the maintenance room."
"Then what will you watch?"
"Them." Gu Wujiu closed his eyes. "I need to get a clear look at their face."
"They're wearing a hood."
"They'll take it off. Before entering or after leaving, there'll always be a moment when they show their face." He paused. "Back in my previous life, when I was tailing someone, Third Brother said something: 'A person can disguise anything, but they can't disguise their habits.' The way each person removes their hood, their walking posture, whether they open a door with their left hand or right—those are all habits. Habits don't lie."
The system remained silent for a long time.
"Merit System operation log, day thirteen. Host's investigative abilities continue to exceed expectations. But the risk level is rising in tandem."
"You're talking to yourself again."
"No, I'm not."
"I heard you."
"...The system log is an internal record. In theory, the Host shouldn't be able to hear it."
"Then keep it down."
The system said nothing more.
Wrapped in that tattered robe, Gu Wujiu closed his eyes in the darkness.
He couldn't sleep.
Not because he was afraid, but because his mind wouldn't stop.
He was thinking about a question: Just how important was the thing in the maintenance room?
Important enough to silence a first-level Qi Condensation disciple. Important enough to require an inner-sect cultivator to come deal with it regularly. Important enough to disguise the place as an abandoned storage room.
This wasn't one person's secret. It was an organization's secret.
And he, a first-level Qi Condensation ant, was trying to pry open one corner of that secret.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath.
Then he rolled over and forced himself to close his eyes.
He still had to cultivate tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, he might have to face the thirty-percent critical point. The day after that—
He'd worry about the day after that when it came.
In Chen Hao's philosophy of life, there had never been such a thing as "the day after the day after tomorrow."
Surviving today was profit.
The fourth day.
Cultivation method harmonization progress: twenty-seven percent.
Only three percentage points remained before the critical point.
Gu Wujiu sat inside the abandoned storage room, his forehead covered in sweat. The latest round of cultivation had been especially difficult. The new and old qi had pushed against each other in his meridians until all his internal organs trembled, like two hands pulling him apart in a tug-of-war.
"Host," the system said, "I recommend resting. Continuous high-intensity harmonization will increase the severity of the conflict at the critical point."
"I know."
He opened his eyes and took a gulp of water—the water Zhou Xiao'an had brought yesterday, in a chipped ceramic bowl. That kid now came every day on schedule to bring water and news, more punctual than an alarm clock.
"Oh, right." He remembered something. "What did Zhou Xiao'an say?"
The system brought up the information he'd asked Zhou Xiao'an to investigate.
"There are three things happening among the outer disciples. First, next month's assessment rules may change. Some people say a knockout system will be added—the bottom ten will be expelled from the sect immediately. Second, the inner sect has recently been selecting outer disciples to replenish its ranks. The requirement is third-level Qi Condensation or above. Third—"
"Third?"
"Third, Qian Youde is sick."
Gu Wujiu's fingers stopped.
"What kind of sickness?"
"Zhou Xiao'an said it's a sickness of the heart. Qian Youde hasn't left his duty room for two days. When people go to him for work, he tells them through the door that he isn't feeling well."
A sickness of the heart.
Gu Wujiu leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
He knew why Qian Youde was "sick." That day, he'd gone fishing and pried open a crack in the things Qian Youde had kept buried for months. That crack was now widening, gradually eroding the last of Qian Youde's psychological defenses.
Ding—
The quest panel popped up:
Quest: Visit the sick outer-sect steward, Qian Youde. Reward: +10 Merit Points, Intelligence Fragment ×1. Note: Qian Youde's current mental state continues to deteriorate. The system has determined that he is at risk of self-harm. The Host is advised to intervene as soon as possible.
Gu Wujiu stared at the words "risk of self-harm," his brow furrowing.
"Is he really that bad?"
"Guilt is an emotion capable of reproducing itself," the system said, unusually free of sarcasm. "Especially when the person involved bears it alone. Your intervention last time eased his immediate pressure, but it also opened memories he'd been avoiding. He's currently in a state of... repeatedly chewing over his own pain."
"You mean I helped him last time, but actually made him feel worse?"
"In the short term, yes. In the long term, facing the issue is healthier than avoiding it. But that's assuming he can survive the short term."
Gu Wujiu was silent for ten seconds.
Then he stood.
"I'll go check on him."
"Host," the system suddenly said, "going to Qian Youde's place now will take you near the maintenance room."
He stopped.
"I know."
"There should be no one there during the day. But I can't guarantee it."
"I know." He repeated himself, then walked out of the storage room. "I'll take the long way. From the north."
He spent twice as long as usual circling around most of the outer disciples' district before reaching the door of Qian Youde's duty room.
The door was closed.
He knocked.
There was no response.
"Steward Qian, it's me. Gu Wujiu."
A rustling sound came from inside, as if someone were moving something. Then there was silence.
"Steward Qian, I just came to check on you. I heard you weren't feeling well."
Silence again.
Then the door opened a crack.
Qian Youde's face appeared in the gap. He looked even more haggard than the last time they'd met, with sunken eyes, cracked lips, and unkempt stubble, as though he hadn't slept in several days.
"You..." His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you, I came to check on you." Gu Wujiu leaned against the doorframe, casual in his posture. "You look like you haven't eaten in three days."
"I'm fine."
"You call this fine?" Gu Wujiu looked him over. "In my previous life, I knew someone exactly like you are now. He didn't eat for three days, didn't leave his home for seven, and then on the eighth day—"
He didn't continue.
Something shifted in Qian Youde's eyes.
"What happened on the eighth day?"
"On the eighth day, his family broke down the door and found him locked in the bathroom, with his wrists—" Gu Wujiu paused, his tone suddenly becoming very soft. "Steward Qian, you won't go that far. But you have to come out."
Qian Youde's lips trembled.
"I can't come out." His voice was extremely low. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that night. That... that child's face. He was only sixteen. When I carried him to the back mountain, his eyes were still open."
Gu Wujiu said nothing.
He knew that at times like this, words weren't necessary. What was needed was someone to listen.
"I know he didn't suffer cultivation deviation." Qian Youde's voice began to shake. "How could a first-level Qi Condensation disciple suffer cultivation deviation? I've been a steward for twenty years. I've seen more than ten cases of cultivation deviation, and not one of them was a first-level Qi Condensation disciple. But I didn't dare ask. That person... that masked person. The way he looked at me... I knew that if I asked one more question, I'd be the next one carried to the back mountain."
"So you chose to keep quiet."
"I chose to keep quiet." Qian Youde's eyes reddened. "And every night, I dream about that child. He stands at the foot of my bed without saying anything, just looking at me. His eyes are open, the same as that night."
Gu Wujiu leaned against the doorframe and listened quietly until Qian Youde finished.
Then he said one thing.
"Steward Qian, that child won't blame you."
Qian Youde raised his head.
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm him." Gu Wujiu looked into Qian Youde's eyes. "I'm standing in front of you alive right now. I don't blame you."
Qian Youde's body trembled violently.
"You... you said you're..."
"I told you: I am, and I am not." Gu Wujiu's tone was calm. "But no matter who I am, one thing is true—you didn't kill him. The person who killed him was that masked man. You were only forced to clean up afterward. Those are two different things."
"But I—"
"You moved the body. Yes. But you didn't do the killing. You didn't even know why it happened." He paused. "In my previous life, there was a term for it: an accomplice under duress. An accomplice under duress and the principal offender don't receive the same sentence."
Qian Youde opened and closed his mouth as tears silently slid down his face.
He wasn't sobbing loudly. It was the soundless crying of someone who had held it in for too long and could finally hold it in no longer. A middle-aged man in his forties stood behind the crack in the door, crying like a child who had done something wrong.
Gu Wujiu stood outside the door. He neither entered nor left.
He simply stood there and waited for Qian Youde to finish crying.
After about fifteen minutes, Qian Youde wiped his face with his sleeve and took a deep breath.
"Gu... Gu Wujiu."
"I'm here."
"You said last time that if I found anything strange, I should come to you."
"Yeah."
"There's something." Qian Youde's voice was still trembling, but it was steadier than before. "I don't know if it'll be useful."
"Tell me."
"That night, when the masked person told me to deal with the body, he was holding something."
Gu Wujiu's fingers stopped on the doorframe.
"What?"
"A... a bottle. It was black, about the size of my palm, and the mouth was sealed with red wax." Qian Youde closed his eyes, struggling to recall. "I only glanced at it once before he put it into his sleeve. But I remember there were characters carved on it."
"What characters?"
"I didn't recognize them. They weren't ordinary writing. They looked like... runes? They were very small, carved all over the bottle, dense and tightly packed."
A black bottle. A red-wax seal. Runes.
Gu Wujiu's mind raced.
"Did he bring the bottle with him, or did he take it from the maintenance room?"
Qian Youde thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not sure. He was already standing beside the body when I arrived. He was holding the bottle then."
"What did he do with it?"
"Nothing. He just held it. Then he told me to move the body, while he went toward the maintenance room."
He went toward the maintenance room.
Carrying that bottle.
Gu Wujiu's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Steward Qian, thank you."
"Can you find out?" A faint glimmer appeared in Qian Youde's eyes, like a drowning man clutching at a piece of straw. "How did that child really die?"
"I will." Gu Wujiu looked at him. "But you have to promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Eat. Sleep. Leave the room." His tone suddenly sounded just like Third Brother lecturing one of his little brothers in his previous life. "If you run yourself into the ground, there'll really be no one left to handle this."
Qian Youde froze for a moment, then actually smiled. It was a tiny, bitter smile, but it was a smile.
"Okay."
The door closed.
Ding—
Quest complete: Visit the sick outer-sect steward, Qian Youde. Merit Points +10. Reward unlocked: Intelligence Fragment (II). Contents: When handling the body's original owner's corpse, the masked figure held a black rune bottle. The bottle was likely used to collect or seal away some kind of substance. Rune bottles are controlled items within the Heart-Eater Sect, restricted to elders of the inner sect and above.
Gu Wujiu stood in the alley, staring at the final line.
Elder level and above.
Not an ordinary inner-sect disciple. An elder.
He leaned against the wall, his fingers unconsciously tapping his thigh.
An elder-level figure had come to the outer sect at night wearing a mask, killed a first-level Qi Condensation disciple, used a restricted rune bottle to collect something, and then handed the corpse over to a steward for disposal.
This wasn't a private act by one disciple. It was a powerful person doing something that needed to be covered up.
And that "something" was in the maintenance room.
"System."
"Here."
"How many Merit Points do I have now?"
"Sixty."
"Forty short of one hundred."
"Are you thinking about unblocking your meridians, Host?"
"I'm thinking," he said, turning toward the abandoned storage room, "that I may need that meridian unblocking more than I expected."
"Why?"
"Because my opponent isn't an inner-sect disciple." He turned into the alley, lowering his voice. "It's an elder."
The system was silent for five seconds.
"Host," it said suddenly, its voice so soft it sounded almost like it was talking to itself, "do you know how great the gap is between a first-level Qi Condensation disciple and an elder?"
"I know."
"And you're still going to investigate?"
"Can I stay alive if I don't?" He stopped and looked up at the gray, hazy sky. "An elder killed the body's original owner, and now the body's original owner is alive again. Do you think he'll let me go?"
The system didn't answer.
"If I don't investigate, I wait for death. If I investigate, I go looking for death." He started walking again. "But at least when you go looking for death, you can choose how to die. When you wait for death, you don't even get that choice."
He entered the abandoned storage room, squeezed through the crack in the back wall, and sat down in the darkness.
Sixty Merit Points. Twenty-seven percent harmonization of his cultivation method. Three Fasting Pills. Two Intelligence Fragments. One tagalong. One informant.
And an elder-level opponent.
The odds had changed again.
This time, not for the better. Things had simply become more complicated.
But Chen Hao had never been afraid of complicated.
He was afraid of simple.
Because in the urban village, the simpler something looked, the deeper the water behind it ran.
Now this game had grown so deep he couldn't see the bottom.
But he still had to play.
Because refusing to play meant a dead end.
He closed his eyes and began cultivating.
Twenty-seven percent.
Only three percentage points remained before the critical point.
Before he could see the black-robed man's face clearly, he needed to get through this hurdle first.
Outside the window, the fog hung heavy.
In the distance, toward the maintenance room, everything was as quiet as a grave.