Yanwei shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
The cat hadn't moved. It still lay curled near the wall, its dark eyes tracking his every step. A faint, low noise buzzed in its throat—not quite a growl, not a hiss. Just a sound meant to be heard.
Yanwei's gaze flicked toward it, expression unreadable. His eyes lingered for only a second before shifting away, mouth drawing into a thin line.
He set the tray down on the table, moved with mechanical efficiency, divided the food, and placed a small plate on the floor—beef, rice, and a bowl of milk.
He didn't offer it. Just placed it there and walked away.
Slumped into the chair by the window.
His brows furrowed faintly.
Too many things didn't add up.
The Moonlit Pavilion was enormous—ancient, structured, proud. If they wanted disciples, they didn't need secrecy. They could have announced it and watched nations kneel.
So why this test?
Why hide it in auctions and back-alley whispers?
Yanwei's jaw clenched subtly, a faint twitch at the corner of his lips. His eyes narrowed as he stared through the window at the thickening clouds outside.
"They're not expanding. They're hunting."
His thumb tapped once against the chair's armrest. A small habit, barely noticeable.
Behind him, soft sounds broke the quiet—slow, tentative eating. The cat had moved. It didn't trust the food, but instinct overruled fear. Bit by bit, it began to eat.
He didn't turn, but his head tilted slightly at the sound.
"They're forcing desperation. But why now? Did something change?"
A quiet breath slipped from his nose, brows still drawn. His features relaxed for just a second—then tightened again.
His eyes stayed sharp. Focused. But there was weight behind them now, something troubled simmering just beneath the surface.
"They're not recruiting," he thought, his lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak, but no words came. "They're filtering."
He leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped loosely. His shoulders looked relaxed, but tension gathered in his fingers—subtle, controlled.
And still… the cat ate.
Strange.
Something about that was off too. The way it hesitated. The way it didn't seem to know what eating was. Not truly.
Yanwei's gaze drifted to the floor without lifting his head, just eyes moving toward the creature.
It had finished the beef, now lapping quietly at the milk. Cautious, silent, like a wild thing unsure if it was allowed to be alive.
A faint smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth—barely there.
"Not bad," he murmured under his breath, voice flat, but the shadow of amusement passed across his face before vanishing.
The smirk faded as quickly as it came.
Because beneath it all, the storm still loomed.
And he didn't like not knowing what kind it was.
…
A few minutes passed.
The cat had finished eating and returned to its corner. It watched him still—quiet, tense—but Yanwei barely spared it a glance.
His mind hadn't settled.
Something kept scraping at the back of his thoughts, sharp and persistent. His brow twitched as he stared out the window, arms resting on his knees, but his fingers were tight—almost clawing into the fabric of his pants.
He hated this.
Not the danger.
The uncertainty.
"The hell am I even at risk for?" he thought, his eyes narrowing. "What does this chaos have to do with me?"
The answer came immediately.
"That thing in Cloudveil Sect."
His jaw locked.
"That item… I needed it. Still do."
His gaze dropped, focused on the floorboards now. Distant. Calculating.
"It's sacred to them—some ancestral relic they bury under layers of formation arrays and pointless rituals. But I know what it really is."
"How?"
His eyes sharpened.
"Soul search. Years ago. One of their outer elders. Idiot was arrogant enough to wander alone. Buried the memory deep, but not deep enough."
"That's why I use disguise to joined their sect. Simple."
There was always risk. That much was obvious from the start.
But controlled risk.
Necessary risk.
His mouth twisted slightly—not in a smile, but something colder.
"If I had it now, I could be gone already."
"Out of this mess. Out of this storm the Moonlit Pavilion's stirring up."
"Maybe even out of this continent."
He leaned back slightly, still staring blankly ahead.
Instead, he was here. Surrounded by idiots panicking over a test they didn't even understand. Bound by a loose thread that should've been cut years ago.
All because of one unfinished task.
One item still buried where he couldn't reach it.
He closed his eyes briefly.
…
Time passed.
But the tension in Yanwei's body never faded.
He sat still, gaze locked on the floorboards, but his thoughts churned like blades. The cat was already asleep, twitching now and then, but he barely registered it anymore.
This wasn't about the Pavilion. Or their schemes. Or the panic outside.
This was about survival.
And the only way forward was strength.
Real strength.
"The Tideglass," he thought, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's the piece I'm missing."
It wasn't optional. The Tideglass was one of the essential stones required to break through to Rank 2. Without it, no advancement. No advantage. No chance at dealing with the threat watching him from within the sect.
And that threat was real.
A Rank 2 cultivator—one who was quietly tracking the identity Yanwei had taken. The very man he was impersonating. The second merit he relied on for disguise hadn't activated since his arrival.
Why?
He didn't know.
But until it did, he was walking around exposed.
"I can't fight that Rank 2 yet," he thought, the tension rising in his jaw. "Not without breaking through first."
So step one was clear: find the Tideglass.
And for that, he needed someone.
Velurya.
She wasn't loyal. But she wasn't hostile either. Not yet.
She was easy to read—shallow emotions, predictable thinking. And she had access to knowledge he didn't.
"If anyone knows where to find the Tideglass, it's her."
It wouldn't be easy. Nothing was ever easy.
But it was necessary.
Once he had the Tideglass, he would break through. Then kill the threat in the sect. After that, the path to the treasure he truly came for would be clear.
Then he could vanish.
Before the Pavilion's storm reached him.
Before anyone even realized he had been here.
He stood, eyes sharpening.
"Contact Velurya. Find the Tideglass. Advance."
A quiet breath slipped through his nose—measured, familiar.
"Then… kill him."