The Gathering Clouds

After Li Wangye's words struck, the main room became eerily quiet.

Lu Yuan paused tapping his index finger on his knee. "Sit down, catch your breath, and say, 'What was the original message?'"

"Wang the blacksmith's wife overheard this while helping out in the inn's kitchen," Li Wangye said, leaning against the doorframe. "The people from the Cloud Mist Sect said the prisoners confessed. That day, besides them and ' Lightning,' there was a 'third group' in the mountains who used lightning-attribute traps and knew the terrain well."

Mo Chen swore.

"It's a distortion," Lu Yuan said calmly. "Either Lin Xiao's words were misinterpreted, or the Cloud Mist Sect needs such an 'enemy.' With this excuse, they can legitimately conduct a thorough search."

Lu Qinghe's face turned pale. "You want to search the whole town?"

"They're already searching," Li Wangye said, his voice trembling. "They're questioning unfamiliar faces at every inn, and inquiring about lightning strikes and poisoning at every clinic. They're very firm."

Lu Yuan got up and walked to the window, opening it a crack. In the darkness, distant firelight flickered, and shouts could be faintly heard.

He closed the window.

"Father, you and Su Yan go to the backyard and erase all traces of training. Bury the array-patterned stone slabs deep. Teacher Shen, put the notes and sketches into the hidden compartment. Mo Chen, hide any unfinished parts or components that can be hidden; dismantle the rest." The orders were issued quickly and coldly. "Wangye, you can't show your face. Go hide in the hunter's hut in the back mountain for three days, and report your safety every sunset using the old method. Leave now."

Li Wangye gritted his teeth and disappeared into the night.

Lu Yuan stood in the center of the main room, the oil lamp casting his shadow on the wall, swaying. He knew the worst was coming— Lin Xiao was forced to speak, even if it was just a distorted fragment of a sentence. The Cloud Mist Sect had obtained an "excuse," and what followed was not covert investigation, but a brutal and overt crushing defeat.

And they stood right on the path of the crushing crush.

The next day was gloomy.

Lu Qinghe, hunched over, carried a tattered basket to buy rice, his eyes scanning the entire street. Two men in grey-blue outfits, long swords at their waists, stood at the entrance of the inn, questioning a merchant. Three more men sat inside the teahouse, their eyes like hooks.

He lowered his head and turned into the grocery store.

Old Liu was fiddling with his abacus behind the counter, glancing up but not greeting him as usual. "Old Lu, try to stay home these days."

"What's wrong?"

"Don't play dumb." Shopkeeper Liu looked around. "The Cloud Mist Sect is looking for 'accomplices,' claiming that local Soul Master colluded with outsiders to harm their disciples. They're investigating thoroughly and have already taken away two rogue cultivators who came to travel recently." He lowered his voice even further. "Deacon Han from the Inspection Office came by this morning and talked with the Cloud Mist Sect leader on the street corner for a long time before shaking his head and leaving."

Lu Qinghe rubbed his fingers together on the basket handle. "The Inspection Office isn't doing anything about it?"

"Manage?" Shopkeeper Liu smirked. "The Cloud Mist Sect insists they're investigating the perpetrator who attacked their fellow disciples. Sects have special privileges when it comes to pursuing criminals. As long as no one dies, the Inspection Office can only 'assist in the investigation.'" He sighed. "Old Lu, I know your kid's a bit different. He'd better keep a low profile these days."

Lu Qinghe silently weighed the rice and paid. As he walked out of the shop, he felt a chill down his spine—not from the wind, but from several gazes that fell on him and then looked away.

***

As evening fell, Su Yan returned from the back mountain, his face pale. "Sir, Li Wangye shot it with an arrow." He handed over a small piece of coarse linen.

Lu Yuan unfolded the cloth. A simplified map of Maple Leaf Town was drawn on it with charcoal sticks, marking seven checkpoints of the Cloud Mist Sect. All three roads leading out of the town were guarded. An arrow in one corner of the cloth pointed to the Black Stone Mountain Range, marked with a cross and the number five.

"Reinforcements," Lu Yuan whispered. "Five more members of the Cloud Mist Sect are heading towards the Thousand Needle Stone Forest."

Shen Moxin leaned closer to look. "Are they still looking for the Soul Marrow? Or are they looking for traces of our activities back then?"

"Anything is possible." Lu Yuan lit the cloth over the oil lamp. "The place where Lin Xiao is trapped isn't far from our hiding place. Unless the Cloud Mist Sect is stupid, they'll dig up that area thoroughly."

Mo Chen scratched his head in frustration. "What should we do? Hide at home and wait for them to come and search our house?"

Before the words were finished, there was a knock on the courtyard gate. Three knocks, neither too loud nor too soft.

Everyone in the room tensed instantly. Lu Qinghe placed his hand on the short hoe at his lower back, Su Yan moved to the shadows behind the door, Shen Moxin quickly swept away the last few pages of paper on the table.

Lu Yuan raised his hand to signal, walked to the door, and asked in a deep voice, "Who is it?"

"Fellow villager Lu, it's me, Old Han."

Deacon Han.

Lu Yuan unlatched the door. Deacon Han stood alone outside, dressed in a dark brown uniform, a shrewd smile on his face, but no real mirth in his eyes. "No, no, just a few words." He waved his hand, his gaze quickly sweeping across the courtyard. "You know things haven't been peaceful in town lately, have you?"

"I've heard something. The Cloud Mist Sect is investigating a case."

"It's more than just investigating a case." Deacon Han lowered his voice and took a half-step forward. "They're now insisting that local forces colluded with foreign enemies to attack the sect's forces and plot against rare treasures. All the pressure is on our Inspection Office department, demanding our cooperation in investigating 'suspicious local Soul Master families.'" He paused, looking at Lu Yuan. "Fellow villager Lu, let's be frank. The intelligence we gathered last time wasn't enough. The Cloud Mist Sect is making a show of force, determined to find the 'real culprit' and bring them to justice, while also purging anyone connected. If our Inspection Office can't produce something more compelling to divert attention, or prove that certain 'suspects' are valuable... then we'll be in a difficult position too."

The message was blunt. Either provide intelligence that could strike at the Cloud Mist Sect, or prove that the Lu family was worthy of the Inspection Office's protection despite the pressure.

Lu Yuan's expression remained unchanged. "I understand what Deacon Han means."

"Good that you understand." Deacon Han's smile was a little cold. "Time is running out. The Cloud Mist Sect has limited patience, and I'm under a lot of pressure too. Three days, three days at most." He held up three fingers and shook them. "I'll come back in three days. I hope that by then, Fellow Villager Lu can give me something substantial."

After saying that, he nodded, turned around, and his footsteps disappeared at the end of the alley.

The courtyard gate closed. The atmosphere in the main room was heavy and oppressive.

Lu Yuan walked back to the center of the main room but didn't sit down. He went to the window, looked at the gloomy sky, and tapped a series of complex rhythms on the window frame with his fingers.

Tap, tap tap, tap tap tap...

Mo Chen couldn't hold back any longer. "Three days! He's forcing us to our deaths! What 'tangible' could we possibly have? To set fire to the Cloud Mist Sect Sect's mountain gate?"

Shen Moxin's face was pale. "He's forcing us to take sides, or forcing us to become more convenient pawns in his hands."

Lu Qinghe watched his son's retreating figure in silence.

The knocking suddenly stopped.

Lu Yuan turned around. His face remained expressionless, but his calm eyes sharpened. "We had a slight problem with our direction before," he said, each word clear. "We were thinking about how to conduct a 'safe' rescue, how to 'cleverly' exploit the conflicts between the various parties. But the Cloud Mist Sect's current stance is that they'd rather kill the innocent than let the guilty go free. Deacon Han's attitude also shows that in the face of absolute power and brutal investigation, any trickery could collapse instantly."

He took a deep breath.

"We need a 'point'." His gaze swept over the crowd. "A 'point' that can hurt them, force them to withdraw their power, or at least create chaos. This point cannot be one we directly run into."

His gaze slowly fell on the table.

There lay open a tattered parchment copy of the ancient heretical doctrine of Soul Power, left behind after indirect communication with the "Shadow Guards." The paper was yellowed, the handwriting strange, and it recorded conjectures about the nature of Soul Power that were considered taboo.

The initial outline of a bold, almost adventurous plan emerged in his mind.

Cold and sharp.

Like a knife without a handle.