In the sitting room.
The oil lamp's flame flickered uneasily.
Ji Yuan looked at the gazes the others had turned on him.
Hu Ben's tiger paw had settled on the arm of his chair, while True Person Feng He's fingers had slipped into his sleeve. Deep within it, spiritual power stirred almost imperceptibly.
Ji Yuan was neither surprised nor afraid.
Under everyone's gaze, he picked up the tea beside him and brought the cup to his lips. The tea was murky, with two withered leaves of unknown origin floating in it.
He paused, then set the cup back on the table. Its base struck the wood with a crisp, light tap.
He smiled. "You've all decided I'm the spy?"
True Person Feng He sat upright in the principal seat, his goatee perfectly still.
"Though Fellow Daoist Tao Yao vouches for you, this old man has indeed never met you. Everyone else here has been an acquaintance of mine for centuries, some for more than a thousand years."
"You alone are a stranger, arriving for the first time at precisely this juncture. If you were in my place, Fellow Daoist, what would you think?"
Ji Yuan did not answer.
Smiling, he rose, walked around the tea table, and made his unhurried way to the center of the sitting room.
That spot was the center of the semicircle formed by seven armchairs. Everyone was within his sight, and he was within everyone's range of attack.
The others grew wary.
A faint golden glow had risen over Hu Ben's tiger paw, the opening move of some body-cultivation ability. The air between his five fingers warped slightly.
Madam Xu remained seated, motionless, but a silver-shimmering bone hairpin slid out of her sleeve.
Daoist Gou did not move, but his posture changed. No longer sitting