Guiding the Stone Tiger Li Clan toward the perilous Jagged Ravine marked a turning point in Lu Chenyuan's approach to survival. Until now, he had reacted, shielded, endured. But this—this was different. A quiet line had been crossed. Born from necessity and sharpened by sleepless nights, it was a decision that turned defense into a form of masked aggression. He was no longer just shielding his fragile domain; he was reaching beyond it, setting traps in the dark.
To succeed, the deception had to be subtle. A rumor shouted too loudly would echo back, its source easily traced. Worse, it might alert the wrong ears. So Lu Chenyuan planned meticulously, shaping every detail with the care of a calligrapher painting on silk. Uncle Liu was out of the question—too closely linked with the Lin Clan, and his earlier whispers of 'ancestral protections' had already served their purpose.
Instead, Lu Chenyuan looked to Serpent's End Market, that chaotic tangle of rogues and drifters, where truth was as cheap and malleable as a forged spirit stone. Among the stalls and alleys, gossip was currency, and hunger made eager messengers.
He gave Uncle Liu a new task—harmless on the surface. Over several days, the old man was to buy ordinary supplies from various backwater vendors. In passing, he'd speak of a story he'd "overheard"—a tale picked up from a traveling merchant, half-dismissed and poorly remembered.
It was a story Lu Chenyuan had shaped with care. A lone cultivator, bruised and bleeding, had supposedly emerged from the Jagged Ravine, muttering about a rare kind of Rock Ape with a faint crimson shimmer in its fur. The so-called Crimsonmane. Not unusually powerful, but rumored to possess a core with a curious affinity for fire-aligned cultivation. An ideal lure for someone like Li Hu. And the creature, according to the tale, had been weakened by a recent skirmish—wounded, ripe for the taking.
"The trick, Uncle Liu," Chenyuan had said quietly, "is in the doubt. Don't insist. Let it seem like a thing you heard once and barely believed. Then move on. Their greed will fill in the gaps."
Though visibly uneasy, Uncle Liu carried out the ruse with the same somber diligence he applied to everything. It was a strange, silent dance through the market—planting seeds in soil he dared not till too deeply.
By week's end, whispers had begun to take root, subtle at first—just enough to catch ears attuned to profit and danger. Lu Chenyuan, watching from the shadows, could only hope they'd blossom into something useful.
Meanwhile, life inside the Lin Clan courtyard moved in its careful rhythm. Thirty-five spirit stones sat locked away, a modest hoard, precious and untouchable. Lu Chenyuan resisted every urge to spend them, choosing instead to prepare—for whatever might come.
His cultivation advanced slowly but steadily. The Fifth Layer of Qi Refinement, once distant, now felt like worn terrain. With the system's guidance, he delved deeper into the Azurewood Art, not just learning but internalizing its essence—its quiet emphasis on life, on rooted strength. His alchemy improved, too. Shen Yue's bountiful Green Dew Grass and the last traces of the Earth Spirit Root allowed him to craft three more Qi Nourishing Pills, nudging their stockpile to four. Small victories, but victories nonetheless.
Shen Yue, for her part, remained steadfast. Every morning, she took to her cultivation with an intensity that bordered on reverence. What had once been a single, tentative thread of Wood Spirit Qi had now grown into something richer. It flowed through her meridians with greater ease, weaving itself into her breath, her presence. The courtyard itself seemed to respond to her, leaves curling subtly in her direction, the air thick with potential.
Then, one morning, something changed.
The first light of day spilled over the hills, golden and warm, when a pulse of energy rolled out from Shen Yue's chamber. It was gentle but unmistakable. Lu Chenyuan, practicing nearby, paused mid-breath. He felt it—felt her.
Moments later, she emerged. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes alight with wonder and something older, more elemental. A soft green glow clung to her skin like mist on new leaves.
"Chenyuan," she said, breathless. "I think... I've done it. Everything feels clearer. Brighter."
He smiled, heart lifting. "You have. You've reached the Second Layer."
[System Notification: Wife Shen Yue has successfully advanced to Qi Refinement Stage 2. Wood Spirit Qi significantly enhanced. Control over innate abilities increased. Spiritual Root (Variant - Wood) awakening progress: 28%. Clan Vitality +3. Host receives further insight into Wood Element cultivation and life-force nurturing. Clan Prosperity Meter: 20/100.]
The insight that poured into him was no longer just data—it felt like memory rediscovered. Growth, healing, the rhythm of the living world—all of it began to bloom within his mind. The Azurewood Art whispered to him in a deeper tongue now.
"This changes everything," he told her, genuinely awed. "You'll cultivate faster, draw Qi with greater ease. Our plants will thrive under your care. And your command of Wood Spirit techniques… it will only grow."
Shen Yue's breakthrough was more than personal triumph. It signaled a turning point for their clan. Two active cultivators—one at the Fifth Layer, one at the Second. Uncle Liu remained their quiet third, still clinging to his fading strength. But together, they formed a fledgling foundation, something more than helpless.
And with Shen Yue's enhanced ability to nurture their spirit crops, including the finicky Iron Vigor Millet, a slow path toward financial stability was beginning to take shape.
As days passed, the courtyard's peace wore a thin skin of tension. Uncle Liu kept a watchful ear on the marketplace, bringing back fragments of conversation like dry leaves on the wind. The Crimsonmane rumor had begun to ripple outward. Li Clan scouts had reportedly made discreet inquiries. Some claimed to have seen Li Hu himself hunched over maps, hunger gleaming in his eyes.
Chenyuan received the news with a still face, though inwardly his mind spun. If they took the bait…
The Jagged Ravine was not kind to overconfidence. Rock Apes were vicious in groups, and the terrain itself could kill even the cautious. Add Berserker Pills to that equation—rage clouding judgment, strength unmoored from reason—and the odds shifted.
But it was a gamble. If discovered, there would be no mercy.
Still, what choice was there? Wait, and let the Li Clan slowly crush them underfoot? Or strike first, indirectly, and hope the avalanche buried the right ones?
The storm came three nights later.
Wind shrieked through the hills. Rain lashed the courtyard. Lu Chenyuan sat beneath the eaves, staring into the dark, when Uncle Liu returned—soaked to the bone, breath ragged.
"Chenyuan," he said, voice low, strained. "It's happened. Li Hu led a party into the ravine three days ago. Armed to the teeth. But… he wasn't himself. Eyes red. Movements wild. Like those who've taken too many Berserker Pills."
Lu Chenyuan's heart thudded. "And?"
"They've not returned. Only one has come back—a disciple, half-dead, raving. He spoke of rockslides, ambushes, apes everywhere. Said Li Hu lost himself to rage. Charged ahead. And was… lost. The survivor thinks none of them made it out."
A silence fell. The kind that settles after lightning. Chenyuan stared into the rain, expression unreadable. Li Hu, arrogant and cruel, undone by his own fury—and perhaps a single, crafted whisper.
No triumph stirred within him. Only a chill.
The storm surged, wind howling like a wounded beast, and in that moment Lu Chenyuan understood the path ahead. This wasn't victory. It was movement. One piece fallen from the board—but the board had changed.
The Li Clan would reel. Li Jian would grieve. And then… he would rage.
The real game had only just begun.