A Gamble

Jiang took a slow, measured breath, regaining his composure. Whatever lingered from before was pushed aside. He sat in silence, fingers tracing the rim of his teacup as he waited.

A few moments later, the door opened again.

Rumei stepped in, now clad in a fresh set of robes, her presence as composed as ever. Without a word, she made her way to her usual seat near the desk and settled in.

"The important talk—is it about the upcoming competition?" she asked.

"Yes," Jiang replied, his tone even. "I wanted to ask you some questions about it."

Rumei gave a small nod, prompting him to continue.

But Jiang's eyes lingered on her as she reached for a cup near her desk. Removing the lid, she cradled it between her palms—then, without a flicker of movement, the tea inside began to boil.

Jiang's eyes narrowed slightly.

Is she using qi to heat the tea?

Even among masters, this level of fine control was rare. Many cultivators could unleash devastating techniques, but to manipulate qi with such delicate precision—to steadily boil liquid without shattering the cup or spilling a drop—was a feat only a handful could achieve.

Then, he remembered Bai performing the same feat during the Sword Hall incident—her movements and sword techniques were just as precise. And then, the disciples—during their synchronized sword dance, their movements were sharp, controlled, and equally precise.

Are they…?

Jiang's thoughts spiraled, the connections forming piece by piece.

"Shen'er?" Rumei called.

But he was lost in thought.

She called again, this time a bit louder. "Shen'er!"

Jiang blinked. "Huh?"

Rumei's voice cut through his musings. "Did something happen?"

"No, it's nothing," Jiang replied.

Rumei didn't look convinced. "Then why did you pause mid-sentence? And earlier too—"

Jiang interrupted, his voice a touch too loud, slightly hurried. "Ah! It's nothing. Aunt, I wanted to ask if it's possible to get a proxy for the competition instead of fighting myself?"

Rumei let out a sigh. "Shen'er, it's not a duel—it's a sect competition to determine martial rankings."

I figured as much. Well, it was worth a shot.

Jiang changed tactics. "What about using our Clan's influence to have Chen Feng replaced?"

Rumei's sigh was heavier this time, her frustration surfacing. "We could have pressured the Chen family, but with the Qian Clan making their moves, it's difficult."

Jiang frowned. "The Qian Clan? Aren't they the weakest of the Six Great Clans? Why would our Clan have trouble with them?"

Rumei's gaze sharpened. "Shen'er, what's wrong with you?"

She leaned forward slightly.

"Did you forget? Your grandfather has entered secluded training. Your uncle is acting as vice-patriarch. And you, of all people, should know that he doesn't like you."

Jiang tensed slightly but kept his expression neutral. "What about the branch families? Won't they support me as a successor candidate?"

Rumei's gaze turned cold.

Jiang knew that asking this could anger her. In the fragmented memories he had of the old Jiang, he had never heeded her advice. He had dismissed her, saying that a branch family had no right to advise the main bloodline—an indirect insult to her status.

Still, if he wanted to understand the situation, he had to ask.

After a brief pause, Rumei finally answered, "There are only four branch families, and none of them have supported anyone yet." 

Jiang hesitated before asking, "And yours?"

Her expression darkened instantly, her gaze sharp enough to cut through his soul.

A tension settled over the room.

Jiang swallowed hard. He had expected a reaction, but now, after witnessing her precise qi control firsthand, he felt the weight of his words more than before. If she chose to act, he wasn't certain he could stop her.

Then, Rumei spoke—her voice clipped, edged with something unreadable.

"I haven't communicated with them for years. Not since my expulsion."

Jiang's breath hitched.

Expulsion. So my guess wasn't far off.

The next question was whether she was a concubine's child or not.

He wanted to press further but held back. Her expression made it clear—this wasn't a subject to pry into. 

A moment of silence stretched between them before Jiang shifted the conversation.

"Aunt," he began carefully, "what if I break my qi reserves and attempt qi infusion?"

Rumei froze.

Then, her entire expression changed.

Her brows snapped together, disbelief flashing in her eyes.

"What?"

Jiang met her gaze, unfazed. 'I'm asking if you could break my qi reserve and infuse it with external qi."

She shot forward, her chair scraping against the floor as she gripped his shoulders.

"Do you even understand what you're saying?"

Jiang blinked. He had expected a reaction—just not this fast.

"Aunt, aren't you overreacting?" He forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

But Rumei didn't ease up. If anything, her grip tightened, her fingers digging in. Jiang felt a sharp pain spread from his shoulders, coursing through his entire body.

Jiang gritted his teeth.

"Jiang Shen, have you lost your mind?"

She was furious. And why wouldn't she be?

Shattering one's own qi foundation wasn't just reckless—it was gambling with fate. If the body failed to endure the strain, the result wasn't mere weakness but permanent crippling, with no hope of recovery.

Even if the destruction of qi reserves went smoothly, a failed infusion could still tear the meridians apart, reducing a cultivator to a lifeless husk.

And even if, by some miracle, both steps succeeded, there was no guarantee the new foundation would be strong enough to ascend beyond what was lost.

It was a path with no return. One misstep meant ruin.

Jiang let out a low grunt, a sharp sign of pain.

Realizing her mistake, Rumei quickly released him, regaining her composure. She sat back down, pressing a hand to her temple.

"I'm sorry," she said, exhaling slowly. "I lost myself for a moment."

Jiang rolled his shoulders, offering a reassuring smile. "It's okay."

Rumei sighed. "Why would you even consider something so reckless?"

Jiang's smile faded. His expression turned neutral.

You're asking why?

It's because if I don't—

A system notification flashed in red at the corner of his vision, pulsing faintly.

[NOTICE: The upcoming event "Trample Over Chen Feng" has been changed to a Major Event: "Defeat Chen Feng." If the player fails to clear the quest, their character will be deleted]

Jiang's fingers tightened around his teacup.

—then I might end up dead.