Master Zhou

The sect grounds were quiet in the early morning, veiled in mist as pale sunlight crept over the mountains. Li Chenwei moved like a shadow, keeping to the edges of the pathways as he followed Wen Yuhan from a distance. His heart pounded as he watched Wen make his way toward the outer perimeter of the sect, where the protective wards were set.

What is he up to? Chenwei wondered, his eyes narrowing. Wen was supposedly performing routine checks on the wards, a task assigned to him by Sect Master Zhou Qingshan. But Chenwei couldn't help but feel there was something more sinister at play. After all, what better cover for sorcery than "maintenance"?

Wen paused by one of the stone markers along the sect's boundary, his expression focused as he held his hand over the marker. Chenwei watched as Wen's fingers moved in precise, measured gestures, invoking a faint shimmer of energy around the stone.

What is he changing? Chenwei's mind raced, each gesture looking more suspicious to him than the last. Is he strengthening the wards… or altering them? Preparing them for something darker?

Just then, his attention was caught by a conversation nearby. Two disciples stood partially hidden by a stand of bamboo, speaking in low voices. Chenwei kept himself hidden, straining to hear their words.

"…the Moon Lake Sect can't be trusted," one of them muttered. "They pretend to be our allies, but I'd sooner call them snakes waiting to strike."

His companion shook his head. "You're overthinking it. The Moon Lake Sect's alliance with us has lasted for years. Fourth Young Master Yingjie's mother is from their sect—why would they do anything to harm their own bloodline?"

"Because they only care about power," the first disciple argued. "It's all a pretense. Look at their other alliances; they've always turned on people when it suited them."

The conversation faded as the disciples noticed Chenwei approaching, and they exchanged uneasy glances before hurrying away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Moon Lake Sect, Chenwei thought, his suspicions twisting into something darker. They're the missing snake in our midst, hiding while we worry about insignificant things. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it was pushed aside by a more pressing concern: What if there really was no forbidden artifact?

The possibility struck him like a cold wind. If there was no artifact, then what had caused Lianyi's death? What had led to Wen's fall from grace? Chenwei couldn't afford to doubt the guilt he felt in his gut. He needed to find out how to join this mission, to confront Wen, to stop whatever dark designs he was plotting before it was too late.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Wen moved farther down the path, completing his inspection of the wards. Chenwei's mind raced with possibilities. What if I could find a way to intervene? What if I could expose him before he could act?

But just as he resolved to follow Wen back to the compound, a familiar, heavy hand gripped the back of his robe, yanking him up as if he were a kitten being lifted by the scruff.

"Master Zhao!" Chenwei stammered, desperately trying to sound dignified despite dangling like a startled kitten. "I was… I was just…"

As he was set down, Chenwei was struck by an overwhelming wave of shock. Master Zhao stood before him, tall and muscular, his broad shoulders framing a face that radiated vitality. Chenwei felt his heart race, a mixture of surprise and guilt flooding through him. But Master Zhao is dead… he thought, memories of his master's final moments flickering through his mind like shadows. The demons, the chaos—he had seen it all from afar, and yet here stood his master, alive and grinning.

Master Zhao's laughter broke his thoughts, loud and unrestrained. "Ah, I see I've caught you red-handed!" he boomed. "My unfial disciple, sneaking around like a little spy! Is this why you've been neglecting your training lately?"

Chenwei opened his mouth to protest, but words failed him. Instead, he just stared, the confusion and shock evident on his face.

Master Zhao chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder with enough force to almost knock him off balance. "What's wrong, boy? Did Xu Zhou's rejection strike you that deeply?" Master Zhao's grin turned wicked. "I'd thought you'd sulk a bit, write some moody poetry, maybe throw yourself into training… but this?" He gestured down the path where Wen had disappeared. "Switching targets to Senior Brother Wen right after getting rejected? That's some impressive dedication to heartbreak!"

Chenwei flushed, his face burning. "It's not like that!" he protested, his voice a little too loud. "I was just… observing him for the sake of the sect. I don't trust him!"

"Oh, of course, of course," Master Zhao said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. "You're only watching him for purely professional reasons, hmm? How noble of you, running around after him like a lovesick puppy." Master Zhao leaned in, his grin widening. "Not that I blame you. I mean, I've never been into men myself, but if I had to pick, I'd say Wen's the better catch. At least he doesn't slap his conquests in the middle of the courtyard like Xu did!"

Chenwei's face turned a deeper shade of red. "Master! That's—"

"That's what, hmm?" Master Zhao laughed again, the sound booming. "My boy, if you put this much effort into your sword practice, you might actually become a competent cultivator!" He shook his head, feigning disappointment. "And here I thought you'd finally grow out of chasing after people who aren't interested. But it seems I underestimated your commitment. Failed with one Senior Brother, so you switch right to the next. Truly, your dedication knows no bounds!"

Chenwei bristled, crossing his arms as he tried to hold on to some semblance of dignity. "It's not like that," he muttered, but Master Zhao waved a dismissive hand.

"Not like that, hmm? Well, whatever you call it, all this sneaking around hasn't done you any favors." He raised an eyebrow, assessing Chenwei with a critical eye. "If your Lightfoot Technique were half as good as your stubbornness, maybe I wouldn't have caught you skulking around like a thief. All this stalking has done nothing for your footwork!"

Chenwei tried to protest, but Master Zhao was already pulling him along by the arm. "Come on, let's see if we can turn all this wasted energy into something useful. Maybe we'll work on your Cloud-Stepping Technique so you don't look like you're stomping around like a lost ox."

Chenwei winced. Cloud-Stepping Technique was an advanced movement art, one that Master Zhao had once tried to teach him but abandoned after Chenwei proved "as light-footed as a charging boar." Master Zhao hadn't let him live it down since.

Master Zhao grinned, clearly relishing his disciple's discomfort. "And just so you know, if you're going to chase after someone, best to pick someone who'd actually be flattered by it, eh?" He clapped Chenwei on the back again, the force sending him stumbling. "Maybe next time, aim for a gentler heart! At least Wen hasn't humiliated you publicly—yet."

"Master!" Chenwei growled, but his indignation only seemed to fuel Master Zhao's amusement.

"Relax, my boy! Maybe this is a blessing in disguise," Master Zhao said, guiding Chenwei down the path toward the training grounds. "Think of it as honing your reflexes! If nothing else, all this sneaking around should at least make you quicker on your feet. We'll start with the basics, though—if you're going to keep at this, best not to make a fool of yourself with that heavy-footed stalking."

As they walked, Master Zhao's voice softened just a bit, though the playful glint never left his eyes. "Tell me, Chenwei, what exactly do you think you're going to find, skulking around like this? Evidence of some grand plot? Or are you just hoping he'll finally turn around and notice you?"

Chenwei scowled, his face hot with embarrassment. "It's not like that," he mumbled again, but Master Zhao's teasing laughter drowned him out.

"Of course, of course." Master Zhao gave him a playful shove. "Well, at least your heart's in it, even if your footwork's a disaster. Now come on, let's put all that energy into some proper training, and leave the spying to someone who knows how to walk silently."

Chenwei cast one last glance down the path where Wen had gone, feeling a pang of frustration. I don't care if he notices me, he thought to himself, trying to push aside the mix of embarrassment and lingering shock. I just want to know what he's hiding.

As they headed toward the training grounds, Chenwei couldn't help but wonder if Master Zhao had any idea what he was truly worried about—or if, like everyone else, he simply saw him as a foolish young disciple chasing after ghosts.