---
The servant quarters were alive with noise.
Chatter bounced between the bunk beds and rough stone walls. The scent of boiled millet and burned oil wafted from the lower kitchens. Somewhere in the background, an argument broke out over stolen bedding, while a senior steward shouted over it, demanding silence.
Wei Xie ignored it all.
He sat on his cot by the window, staring down at the outer sect courtyard below, where two disciples sparred with golden light dancing along their blades. Their moves were elegant, fast, and lethal. Qi-enhanced strength. A world forever out of his reach.
And yet…
He smirked faintly. Even gods bleed if you strike the right vein.
---
Three days had passed since he entered the Azure Cloud Sect. Already, he'd mapped out the servant routine. Morning labor, midday cleaning, evening rotations. The pecking order was predictable.
Wei Xie occupied the lowest rung—officially.
Unofficially, he was now Young Master Lin Yuan's "whisper collector." The boy didn't realize it, but he'd handed Wei Xie a perfect excuse to snoop around, all while believing he held the leash.
That's how all fools think.
Still, information meant little if not used.
It was time to test his first web.
---
That evening, after the third bell, Wei Xie approached Guo Ren behind the grain shed. The boy was thick-shouldered, louder than most, and smart enough to survive—but not smart enough to know when he was being used.
Perfect.
Guo was sitting on a barrel, picking mud from his boots with a stick. "You finally done sweeping stables, rabbit?"
"I heard something," Wei Xie said calmly. "And I thought you might be the type who likes favors."
Guo laughed. "You think I need something from a trash-born beggar?"
Wei Xie leaned in, quiet but firm. "Your sister. Lives in Hollow Jade's merchant district, yes? Works at the linen dye house near the fourth bridge."
The stick froze in Guo's hand. His eyes narrowed.
"…What of it?"
Wei Xie didn't answer immediately. He let the silence stretch until tension started to itch.
"I heard a disciple—Inner Disciple Yan Shu—plans to make a 'visit' there tonight. Apparently, he thinks dye-house girls are… disposable."
"You lying snake—!"
"Maybe," Wei Xie said smoothly. "But if I were lying, it would be easy enough to check. And if I'm telling the truth… you'll be too late if you wait until morning."
Guo's fist clenched, then loosened.
"…What do you want?"
Wei Xie smiled faintly. "I need someone to clean the east archive steps during bell two tomorrow. Wear steward robes, the grey kind. Listen to who comes in and out. That's all."
Guo stared. "That's it?"
"For now."
"And if I don't?"
Wei Xie turned to leave. "Then I hope your sister's screams don't wake the neighbors."
---
The next morning, Wei Xie ate better than he had in a week.
Guo returned without comment, tossing him a still-warm bun. He never asked why Wei Xie wanted to spy on the archives, nor who he was reporting to.
Fear, Wei Xie knew, silenced more questions than loyalty ever could.
From that day on, Guo became the first thread in his growing web.
---
That afternoon, Lin Yuan summoned him to a private garden behind the sect's main hall. The young master wore deep blue robes embroidered with golden cranes—far too flashy for someone with so little actual discipline. His guards stood a few paces away, pretending not to eavesdrop.
"You heard anything useful?" Lin Yuan asked without looking up from the fish pond he was tending with a long stick.
Wei Xie bowed low. "Yes, Young Master."
"Well? Speak."
"There's unrest among the outer sect disciples. Rumors say Elder Mo wasn't taken by beasts. They think he was silenced."
Lin Yuan's stick stilled. "…Silenced by who?"
Wei Xie shrugged. "That's where the rumors end. But some believe another elder is positioning himself for your father's seat."
Lin Yuan scoffed. "They've been saying that for years."
"True," Wei Xie said. "But this time, the missing elder was the only one who backed your advancement to Core Formation trials."
Lin Yuan stared at him now, brows twitching. "What are you implying?"
Wei Xie bowed again, deferential. "Nothing, Young Master. Just whispers."
But the seed had already been planted.
---
Later that night, as disciples trained and servants swept their floors, Wei Xie sat beneath a tree, quietly sketching a diagram into the dirt: names, faces, connections. Arrows pointed from servants to disciples, from disciples to elders.
At the center of the web: nothing.
That was where he placed himself.
A shadow with no identity. The spider, never seen, only felt.
He didn't need to be strong.
He only needed the strong to doubt each other.
To fear the wrong things.
To mistake his whispers for their own nightmares.
---
Far above the sect, on the mountain peak shrouded in spiritual mist, a pair of old eyes watched through an enchanted mirror.
Elder Qin Yue, cloaked in starlight and silence, stroked her beard as she stared at Wei Xie's faint image.
"No spirit root," she murmured. "No cultivation. And yet…"
She narrowed her eyes.
"…Why do I feel the scent of death clinging to that boy?"
---