[POV: Yao Yazhu]

  Dawn had just broken when the noise finally got to me.

  Within the left wing pavilion of Lord Meng’s residence, the quarters assigned to our Phantasm Star Sect, the disciples were already buzzing like startled sparrows. Whispers overlapped, voices rising with excitement despite their injuries.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what? Senior Ming getting dumped in the outhouse?”

  “No, idiot… about the fox! He’s a cultivator from another sect! Last night was total chaos!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The fox used Dragon Rend! That’s a Dragon Heart Sect technique!”

  I paused mid-step.

  “Really? You sure?”

  “I know what I saw!”

  “Hey, keep your voice down, you’re still injured.”

  “But it has to be true.”

  “Do you remember the last disciple exchange? Trust me… it’s the same technique. I know a Dragon Rend when I see one.”

  I cleared my throat deliberately, infusing a thread of qi into the sound.

  The pavilion went quiet almost immediately as their eyes turned toward me.

  I was the most senior disciple present. Like it or not, that made me their pillar.

  “Shouldn’t you all be diligently cultivating,” I said coldly, “instead of gossiping like market women at dawn?”

  A few heads lowered. Others shuffled awkwardly.

  I exhaled slowly, then gestured. “Geng Zan. Come here.”

  She approached with a limp, hands folded in front of her. “Yes, senior brother.”

  “Show me your injury.”

  Her cheeks flushed red. “S-senior brother… here? With everyone watching? I don’t mind, but—”

  “Stop being a bitch,” another female disciple snapped, yanking Geng Zan’s shoulder and exposing the bruise.

  There was a sharp intake of breath around us. The mark was clear with darkened skin, faint tearing beneath the surface, and qi residue still clinging to the wound.

  My expression hardened.

  This wasn’t a random strike.

  I pressed two fingers lightly against the injury, circulating my qi. Geng Zan hissed but endured it.

  “…Dragon Rend,” I said quietly.

  Murmurs rippled through the pavilion.

  Another disciple stepped forward nervously. “Senior… I think I was attacked by a Boulder Path cultivator. I’m not certain. C-can you look?”

  He lifted his robe, revealing a deep bruise across his abdomen, the outline unmistakable. It was a result of a broad, crushing force.

  I placed my palm against it. He winced sharply.

  “Broken rib,” I said. “And yes. Rock Smash.”

  Silence fell.

  These were not guesses. I had sparred with Dragon Heart and Boulder Path disciples for years. I knew their techniques as well as my own.

  All night, I had remained in cultivation, forcing my breathing into measured cycles, grinding my emotions down until they no longer leaked into my qi. Lord Meng’s stubbornness alone had been enough to strain my composure… and now this?

  Now I had to deal with this fox as well.

  The search for the Meteor Child had yielded nothing. Moreover, the situation in Xincheng was spiraling into chaos.

  Was this fox truly that troublesome?

  …Perhaps I should join the patrol tonight.

  The thought lingered, sour and irritating. I had tried before. Every time I took part in the patrols, the fox somehow slipped past my senses, evaded my routes, and vanished just before my perception closed in. It was as if he knew where I would be.

  Unacceptable.

  The constables were likely in cahoots with him. I had no proof. Only instinct, patterns, and the simple fact that this harassment had grown too precise to be coincidence. Because of this fox, my disciples were being dragged into pointless skirmishes, distracted from the real objective.

  Finding the Meteor Child.

  Meng Wu’s obstinacy was worsening everything. Just thinking of him made my temples throb. I was fairly certain I had gained a few strands of white hair over the past days.

  Ignorant mortal.

  If only he understood.

  Very few did, after all. The Meteor Child was not a blessing. It was a harbinger. A turning point written into prophecy long before any of us were born.

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  Calamity.

  If this domain mishandled the child, tragedy would be inevitable. My sect could endure such consequences, since we were state-sponsored and backed by an entire empire… But this land?

  The Earthly Seal Domain would not survive it unscathed.

  Handing the child over to the other sects was equally unacceptable.

  The Dragon Heart Sect would forge the child into a weapon, a blood-soaked banner of conquest.

  The Boulder Path Sect would try to force the child into strengthening the seal to the Demonic Realm, crushing her will, and ignoring her fate.

  The Oracle had already divined the outcomes.

  In Boulder Path’s hands, the child would become a demon.

  In Dragon Heart’s grasp, she would become a blood-drinking asura.

  Both paths led to ruin.

  Even if it meant war, my sect was prepared to act.

  But if this could be resolved peacefully… then that was the only path worth pursuing.

  I left the pavilion, my steps brisk, my resolve firm, and headed toward Meng Wu’s study. If I had to wear him down through sheer persistence, then so be it.

  Unfortunately, I did not get the chance.

  “Say that again?” I asked, certain I had misheard.

  The attendant before me bowed deeply, her voice trembling. “I apologize, Senior Cultivator… but Lord Meng has fallen into a coma.”

  The words struck like a silent thunderclap.

  A coma?

  It had to be a trick.

  There was no other explanation that made sense.

  I went straight for Lord Meng’s private chamber, my steps sharp, my patience already frayed. The air inside was thick with medicinal scents and restrained tension. I was not the first to arrive.

  Huang Yong of the Dragon Heart Sect stood near the foot of the bed, arms folded, his expression unreadable. Dong Li of the Boulder Path Sect lingered closer to the side, his presence heavy and unyielding as ever.

  On the soft bed lay Meng Wu, unconscious.

  Beside him stood a trembling physician, and at the bedside sat Lady Zhu Shufen, her posture rigid, her hands clasped too tightly in her lap.

  The physician spoke first, voice cautious. “It is quite unfortunate… but it appears the lord has suffered qi deviation.”

  “Trickery—” I burst out, anger flaring before I could stop it.

  Dong Li coughed lightly, cutting me off.

  “We have already checked,” he said. “It is indeed qi deviation.”

  I did not answer him. Instead, I stepped forward and took Meng Wu’s wrist, sending my qi into his pulse.

  It was real.

  Chaotic flow. Disrupted channels. A mind forced into imbalance.

  “How?”

  He was not even a cultivator.

  Then I sensed it.

  Herbs. Elixirs. Residual medicinal qi clinging to his organs like mud smeared over silk. It was as if he had attempted cultivation without a tempered body, without guidance, and without foundation, forcing qi where it did not belong.

  My eyes widened.

  So that was it.

  A deliberate collapse!

  That clever bastard… truly clever to no end.

  By removing himself, he removed the only mortal we could openly negotiate with. He had made himself untouchable and unreachable, all while wearing the mask of a victim. With Meng Wu incapacitated, only Meng Rong and Zhu Shufen could possibly know the Meteor Child’s whereabouts.

  I turned slowly toward Zhu Shufen.

  Dark circles framed her eyes… no, not circles.

  Makeup.

  Even at a glance, I realized she had painted weakness onto herself.

  So even the little princess of the Tuyin Nation was learning to bare her fangs.

  She was mortal. Just as mortal as Meng Wu. Yet unlike him, we could not lay a finger on her. Disowned or not, she was still royalty. And while the Earthly Seal Domain was inferior to ours, the Tuyin Nation was no small power. Hidden strengths, ancient pacts, enough to make even sects hesitate.

  Apparently, Huang Yong did not hesitate.

  He stepped forward, his voice cold and commanding. “Little girl. Tell me where the Meteor Child is, while I am still being nice.”

  The false distress vanished from Zhu Shufen’s eyes.

  In its place was steel.

  “When I say we don’t have it,” she said evenly, “then we don’t have it. Master cultivators may be used to hearing yeses all your lives, but I am afraid you will get nothing from me.”

  Then she did something unexpected.

  She reached up and loosened the top of her robes.

  The physician gasped and immediately turned away, flustered. My breath caught.

  Across her chest were dark markings, etched deep into her flesh made with complex characters woven into one another, radiating a faint, ominous resonance.

  “Do you know what this is?” Zhu Shufen asked.

  Dong Li inhaled sharply. “That is… a powerful curse.”

  Zhu Shufen nodded. “Every child born with Tuyin royal blood manifests these marks. They bind me to my family. If I die, they will know. If I am harmed, they will know. If I suffer, they will know.”

  Her gaze hardened as it swept over us.

  “Do not think of taking me by force. Do not think of torture. Do not think of intimidation. None of it will work.”

  She adjusted her robes and stood, her voice final. “My husband and I need our rest. Now, get out!”

  No one spoke.

  I had never truly believed in emotional leverage as a weapon.

  Yet here it was, wielded flawlessly.

  I recalled something my Sect Master once said to never underestimate the Earthly Seal Domain.

  It seemed… he was right.

  Just outside the private chamber of the Lord of Xincheng, I stopped and called out to them.

  “Huang Yong. Dong Li. We need to talk.”

  They both halted.

  Huang Yong turned first, his expression already sharp with irritation. “What do you want?”

  I did not bother with pleasantries. “The fox is becoming a real problem. How about we call a truce, deal with him first, and then refocus on finding the Meteor Child?”

  Huang Yong let out a cold sneer. “I couldn’t care less.”

  With that, the sour old man turned and left, his robes snapping behind him as if even standing near us offended him.

  I clenched my jaw and turned to the remaining figure. “Don’t tell me you think the same, Dong Li.”

  Dong Li folded his arms, his voice measured. “While I would very much like to deal with that troublemaker, I must remind you that we have less than a week left before my so-called spar with Yakuza Man.”

  So that was it.

  He continued, “His recovery has been used as a pretense to keep us here longer. As long as he’s ‘unwell,’ Lord Meng cannot forcibly expel us. I do not think the search for the Meteor Child can be postponed.”

  My eyes narrowed as he spoke.

  “I’ve already checked on Yakuza Man,” Dong Li added calmly. “He’s healed. Fully. I had to bribe him to stay in the infirmary and feign sickness for as long as he could tolerate. Perhaps we can buy another week, but you must understand, I have already invested too much.”

  He tapped his sleeve lightly. “My people have only a few buildings left to check. We are close.”

  Of course they were.

  The Boulder Path Sect’s divination techniques were notoriously precise. With a personal belonging, they could ‘path’ someone like a compass needle finding north. If Dong Li said they were close, then he truly believed it.

  Unfortunately for him, I knew the truth.

  The Meteor Child was no longer inside the residence… and any personal belongings had almost certainly been dealt with by Meng Rong already. As a disciple of the Dream King, her grasp of divination and concealment far surpassed that of most sects.

  I weighed my words carefully before responding. “With Lord Meng in a coma, we could simply strong-arm our way into staying.”

  A voice cut in immediately.

  “I would advise against that.”

  Meng Rong stepped forward from the shadows, her presence sharp and unmistakable. In her hand was a piece of parchment.

  “As kin,” she said evenly, “Meng Wu has bestowed temporary overseer authority of Xincheng upon me.”

  She raised the document slightly, letting the seal catch the light. “Unless you are the King of Tuyin himself, you have no right to challenge this.”

  Dong Li stiffened.

  Meng Rong did not stop there.

  “In about a week,” she continued coolly, “my master will return. Do you truly wish to test his patience? I suggest you leave as soon as you are able… and stop, if you know what is good for you.”

  I stepped forward, frustration bleeding into my voice. “You misunderstand. The Meteor Child is—”

  “Dangerous?” Meng Rong interrupted sharply.

  Her eyes burned with certainty.

  “I know,” she said. “And if there is anyone capable of handling the Meteor Child, it is my master, and not your sects.”

  She looked from me to Dong Li, her voice final.

  “Know your place.”