The Hunter Among Wolves

Chapter 3: The Hunter Among Wolves

Dawn had barely broken when Ye Xian stepped into the training courtyard of the Azure Wind Sect, her gaze moving over the rows of disciples sparring in the morning mist. The air was sharp with the scent of pine and damp stone, the distant clash of steel against steel ringing through the mountains.

She had been inside the sect for less than a day, and already, she could feel the weight of a hundred eyes on her.

Suspicion. Curiosity. Distrust.

Even among so-called righteous sects, outsiders were rarely welcomed without question. And she was no ordinary outsider. She was an assassin walking among warriors, hiding knives in her smile and poison beneath her fingertips.

A test would come soon. It was only a matter of when.

She adjusted the medicine basket slung over her shoulder, maintaining the quiet, composed demeanor of a physician-in-training. If she played this role well enough, she would have access to the sect's most valuable information—injured warriors, hidden feuds, and most importantly, Shen Liwei's vulnerabilities.

She hadn't seen him since their late-night encounter, but his presence lingered everywhere. Every disciple carried themselves with a disciplined sharpness that reflected their leader's ruthlessness. The Azure Wind Sect was strong, but like any great power, its greatest weakness lay in its foundation.

Find the cracks, and the whole mountain will fall.

A sharp voice cut through her thoughts.

"You. Physician."

Ye Xian turned just as a tall man with a scar cutting down his cheek stepped forward, his dark eyes glinting with something between amusement and disdain. Elder Zhao Rong, one of the sect's senior instructors. A veteran warrior, well-known for his skill in combat and his hatred for outsiders.

Perfect.

Ye Xian placed a hand on her heart and lowered her gaze slightly—not as submission, but as measured respect. An outsider had no right to challenge a sect elder outright. Not yet.

"Elder Zhao," she acknowledged.

His gaze flicked over her, assessing. "A physician, they say. One who knows herbs but not a sword." He smiled, slow and deliberate. "Then tell me—if I were to strike you down here and now, how would you survive?"

A test. A trap.

Several disciples stopped their training to watch, their interest clear. They wanted to see if the new outsider would crumble—or if she had more to her than weak hands and empty words.

Ye Xian met Zhao Rong's gaze, her own expression unreadable. "I would not need to."

The elder's amusement deepened. "Is that so?"

She shifted her weight slightly, eyes calm, calculating. The way he stood. The way his hand lingered near the hilt of his sword. The way his body angled slightly to the left—favoring an old injury.

"If Elder Zhao truly wished me dead," she continued, "he would have struck already. But he hasn't."

A flicker of something passed through Zhao Rong's gaze, but Ye Xian pressed forward, her voice steady.

"Because he knows that even if I am a mere physician, I still hold a blade." Her fingers tapped the rim of her medicine basket, her meaning clear. "And the deadliest blades do not always shine in the sun."

For a long moment, silence hung in the air.

Then—laughter.

Low, amused, but not mocking. Zhao Rong studied her for a few more seconds before finally turning away, addressing the disciples.

"This one may not hold a sword," he said, "but she knows how to fight." His eyes flicked back to her. "Try not to be useless."

Ye Xian placed a hand on her heart again, lowering her gaze slightly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Zhao Rong snorted and walked off, but the message had already been sent—she would not be an easy target.

But as the crowd dispersed, another presence stepped into view.

A familiar one.

Shen Liwei.

Unlike Zhao Rong, he had been watching the entire exchange in silence, leaning against one of the courtyard pillars with an unreadable expression. But now, he stepped forward, his movements quiet yet commanding.

For the first time in daylight, Ye Xian saw him clearly—a man honed like a blade, his posture effortless but hiding an edge sharp enough to cut. His dark robes bore no embellishments, no unnecessary weight. A warrior who carried only what was essential.

She met his gaze, calm, unreadable.

"I did not expect you to be out here so soon," he said, voice measured.

"I do not waste time."

A pause. The ghost of something unreadable crossed his expression before he spoke again. "Good. Then let's not waste words."

A single step forward—close enough that she could see the faint scar above his brow, barely noticeable unless one was looking. A scar that should not exist on a man said to be untouchable.

"A word of advice," he said quietly. "You played that well. But do not forget—you are still a stranger here. And strangers tend to disappear."

Ye Xian let the weight of his words settle between them. A warning. A test. Or something else entirely?

She placed her hand on her heart once more, her gaze steady even as she lowered it slightly in response. "Then I'll be sure to remain useful."

Something flickered in Shen Liwei's expression—approval? Amusement? But before she could decipher it, he turned away, walking back toward the inner halls.

Ye Xian watched him go, her mind already shifting through what she had learned.

Shen Liwei had let her in. That meant he was either confident enough in his control of the sect that she posed no threat… or he was watching her just as carefully as she was watching him.

Either way, it didn't matter.

Because soon enough, she would find the truth behind his poison immunity.

And then, she would finish what she started.

End of Chapter 3