Chapter 3: The Price of Mercy

The Lin Clan's alchemy pavilion smelled of burnt sugar and regret. Lin Mei scowled at the cracked cauldron in the center of the room, her sleeves rolled to the elbows and her hair streaked with soot. The remnants of her latest experiment—a failed qi-replenishing elixir—sizzled in a puddle of iridescent sludge.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," she muttered, kicking the cauldron's leg. The hollow clang echoed through the pavilion, drawing a wince from Lin Wei, who lingered in the doorway.

"Granny Ling says swearing at the cauldron curses the brew," he said, leaning against the frame.

Lin Mei whirled, her cheeks flushed. "Granny Ling also says talking to boys curses my focus. What do you want?"

Lin Wei held up a cloth bundle. "Elder Qiang sent me. Again."

She snatched it, unwrapping three withered Fireleaf stalks. "These are trash. The veins are dead—they'll destabilize the entire batch."

"They're all we have," Lin Wei said quietly.

Lin Mei's shoulders sagged. For a moment, the sharp-tongued alchemist vanished, replaced by a girl drowning in her clan's decay. Then she straightened, tossing the stalks into the cauldron. "Fine. Let's watch the world burn."

As she lit the furnace, Lin Wei edged closer, his eyes tracing her steps. The system's latest task burned in his mind:

[Protect Lin Mei for 48 hours.]

[Failure Penalty: Clan Morale -50%]

He didn't know what threatened her—Thunder Valley? A misfired elixir?—but the penalty was too steep to ignore.

The explosion came at dusk.

Lin Mei's scream tore through the compound as the cauldron erupted, spewing molten slag. Lin Wei lunged, tackling her behind a stone pillar. Shards of metal embedded themselves in the walls, quivering like angry wasps.

"The Fireleaves!" Lin Mei coughed, struggling against his grip. "They reacted with the Frostfern pollen—I didn't think—"

"You never do," Lin Wei snapped, sharper than he intended.

A notification flashed:

[Critical Threat Detected.]

[Deploy Balancing Array? Y/N]

He slammed Yes.

Invisible threads of qi erupted from his fingertips, weaving a lattice over the cauldron. The slag coalesced midair, hardening into a grotesque sculpture before crashing to the floor.

Lin Mei stared at him. "How did you…?"

"Luck," he lied, releasing her. "And your terrible aim."

She opened her mouth—to argue, to question—but a voice cut through the smoke:

"Wei'er?"

Lin Wei froze. The voice was soft, frayed at the edges, and impossibly familiar.

His mother's voice.

Flashback: Seven Years Earlier

The scent of blood clung to the rain. Ten-year-old Lin Wei huddled beneath the shattered remains of the clan's eastern gate, his mother's pendant clutched in his fist. The Moonlit Veil pulsed faintly, its cold metal searing his palm.

"Don't look," his mother whispered, her robes stained crimson. A jagged wound split her side, yet her hands were steady as she pressed the pendant to his chest. "Hide. Don't make a sound, no matter what you hear."

"Mother, I—"

"Quiet." Her eyes glowed with desperate intensity. Beyond the gate, thunder boomed—not from the sky, but from a man's laughter.

Lord Xue.

Lin Wei's father lay motionless nearby, his sword shattered, his fingers still curled around the hilt.

"The Veil will protect you," his mother said, kissing his forehead. Her lips left a smudge of blood. "Grow strong. Grow quiet. Promise me."

He nodded, tears blurring his vision.

She stood, summoning the last of her qi into a blinding aura. "Run!"

He did—just as Lord Xue's crimson saber pierced her heart.

Lin Wei gasped, the memory dissolving like smoke. Lin Mei shook his shoulder, her face pale.

"You… you were screaming," she said.

He wrenched free, stumbling back. The alchemy pavilion was intact, the explosion contained. Only the scarred cauldron bore witness to his lapse.

"I'm fine," he rasped.

Lin Mei's eyes narrowed. "You're not. And that wasn't 'luck' with the cauldron. What aren't you telling me?"

A notification blinked:

[Task Progress: 12/48 hours.]

[Reminder: Penalty applies if target dies or discovers host's secret.]

Lin Wei forced a laugh. "Maybe Granny Ling was right about boys cursing your focus."

He fled before she could retort.

Nightfall brought no peace.

Lin Wei paced the clan's perimeter, the Moonlit Veil cold against his skin. The system's task gnawed at him—Protect Lin Mei—but from what? Thunder Valley? Her own recklessness?

A rustle in the bamboo grove.

He stilled, hand drifting to his dagger. Shadows shifted, resolving into two figures: Uncle Tao and a Thunder Valley disciple, their voices low and urgent.

"—map was a decoy," the disciple hissed. "The deposit was a nest of Soulfang Vipers. Three of ours are dead."

Uncle Tao's reply was icy. "The boy's cleverer than he looks. But he'll slip. They always do."

"Your master wants results, Tao. Not excuses."

"Then tell Lord Xue to be patient. The Lin Clan's time is ending. I'll ensure it."

Lin Wei's blood turned to frost. Lord Xue.

The disciple melted into the shadows. Uncle Tao lingered, staring at the clan's crumbling towers. For a heartbeat, regret flickered across his face. Then it vanished, swallowed by resolve.

Lin Wei retreated, his mind racing. The system's countdown pulsed like a second heartbeat:

[Task Progress: 18/48 hours.]

He found Lin Mei in the ancestral hall, scrubbing slag from the cauldron shards.

"Go away," she said without looking up.

"You need to leave the compound," Lin Wei said.

She laughed bitterly. "Why? Because I'm one mistake away from burning it down?"

"Because you're in danger."

"From what? My own incompetence?"

"From me," he almost said.

Instead, he knelt, picking up a shard. "Pack a travel kit. There's a cave system north of the Abyssal Woods. Stay there for two days."

"Or what?"

"Or people die."

She studied him, her gaze sharper than any blade. "You're hiding something. Something big."

He met her eyes. "Aren't we all?"

[Task Progress: 24/48 hours.]