Night had settled over the Thousand Lotus Sect, but the stars above seemed restless.
Han Li, broom in hand, walked silently along the moonlit corridor near the forbidden library. His steps made no sound on the stone tiles.
Suddenly, he stopped.
Something was breathing beneath the ground.
He crouched and touched the earth with two fingers.
Thump.
A faint heartbeat. No, not human. Not even demonic. Something older.
"Still asleep," Han Li muttered. "But not for long."
Behind him, a silhouette darted through the shadows. It was a black-clad assassin, face covered, blade drawn.
"Who are you?" the voice hissed.
Han Li didn't turn around.
"You've seen too much," the assassin declared, lunging with spiritual speed. His dagger glowed with poison.
In a blink, Han Li stepped aside.
The broom moved.
CRACK!
The assassin's body spun mid-air before crashing into a nearby pillar. The poison blade clattered to the floor, snapped in two.
Han Li looked down at the man, groaning in pain.
"You're not from the sect," he said calmly. "Who sent you?"
The assassin coughed blood, trembling. "I… I don't know! I was paid… to kill a janitor..."
"Wrong target," Han Li whispered.
Before the man could answer again, black flames erupted from his chest. A seal. Soul-burning.
Han Li narrowed his eyes. "A silencing brand. Someone powerful is scared."
From above, a raven circled the sect three times and vanished.
In the hidden peaks, ancient cultivators stirred. Old scrolls burned on their own.
And deep in the Hall of Elders, a cracked mirror flickered—revealing Han Li's face.
Elder Mu stared into it, breath shallow.
"It's him. The one who vanished during the Heavenly Purge."
Meanwhile, Han Li swept the blood into a pile, calm as ever.
As if nothing had happened.