You ever watch someone too still?
Like, too still?
Most people fidget. Scratch their arm. Breathe loud. Look around. But this guy, Ian, he didn't do any of that. He just sat in that corner of the library, surrounded by scrolls and tablets, like the world didn't exist outside the ink.
To some, that was normal.
To Ren, it was a problem.
Who was Ren?
Good question.
He didn't have a sect badge, didn't wear inner disciple robes, and definitely didn't participate in the illusion meditation sessions. But no one really asked questions when you kept your head down and moved like you belonged. Especially not in a place full of people obsessed with the mind.
Ren watched Ian for three days.
At first, it was out of habit. Ren was a rogue cultivator. Paranoia kept him alive. But then curiosity took over.
Because Ian didn't act like anyone else.
He asked too many questions. Quiet ones, yes, but constant. The kind that meant something.
