The delicate Purple-leafed Orchid slipped from my fingers, landing with a silent, cushioned thud on the stone floor of the forge. The rich, soothing fragrance that filled the air suddenly seemed cloying and sinister. I stared at the fallen flower, my blood running cold, my heart hammering a frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs.
Ming was at my side in an instant, his usual relaxed posture gone, replaced by a sharp, predatory stillness. The Infinity around him seemed to thicken almost imperceptibly, a subconscious defensive reaction to my distress.
"Qing-er, what is it?" he asked, his voice low and urgent. "What did you feel? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse," I whispered, my voice trembling as I struggled to articulate the profound wrongness I had sensed. "Much, much worse."
I tried to explain it to him, the words tumbling out in a rush. I described the placid, life-giving energy of the orchid, and then the other thing, the alien presence tangled within it. I described the soul-deep cold, the predatory hunger, the absolute malice that felt like a cancer on reality itself. It was the antithesis of everything living.
"I've never felt anything like it," I finished, wrapping my arms around myself. "But I know what it is. My templates… the part of me that is Taigong Wang, the part that is Tang Sanzang… they reacted with pure, instinctual revulsion. Ming… it was the energy of the Hall of Souls."
The name dropped into the quiet room with the weight of a tombstone. Ming's face, usually a canvas for easy-going smirks and boundless confidence, went completely blank. The air around him grew still. He didn't know the specifics as I did, but he trusted my knowledge of this world's lore implicitly. He understood that I had just named the final boss, the ultimate evil of the entire saga.
"Here?" he said, his voice dangerously soft. "In this backwater city?"
"It has to be," I said, forcing myself to take a steadying breath. "I need to be sure."
Steeling my nerves, I turned back to the crate of orchids. I couldn't let fear paralyze me. We needed information. I picked up another flower, my hand shaking slightly, and activated my "Soul-Guiding Hand." I extended my senses, touching the flower's essence with a thread of my spirit.
The same vile, cold trace was there, faint but unmistakable.
I moved to the next crate, the one containing the Bone-Tempering Grass. I scanned a stalk. Nothing. It was clean. I spent the next hour in a frantic, terrifying search, moving from crate to crate, my soul-sense sweeping over the massive haul of herbs we had been so proud of just hours before.
The pattern that emerged was horrifying. The sinister spiritual trace wasn't on every herb. It was scattered randomly, appearing on a few stalks of grass here, a couple of flower petals there. It was on ingredients from different batches, likely harvested at different times and from different places.
The implication of this discovery was far more terrifying than a single contaminated shipment.
"It's not one bad batch," I said, my voice grim as I finally looked up at Ming. "The traces are random. It means someone with access to the Xiao Clan's storerooms, someone who handles these herbs regularly, is the source. This isn't a recent development. The agent from the Hall of Souls… they've been embedded here for some time."
Our previous plans, our clever manipulations of the local clan war, suddenly seemed like a foolish and naive children's game. We had been playing checkers, oblivious to the fact that a grandmaster of a far deadlier game was moving pieces on the same board.
"The Hall of Souls doesn't operate in a place like Wu Tan City for no reason," Ming reasoned, his mind moving with cold, sharp precision. "They don't care about the Galeo Clan or the Primers. They're hunters. What could they possibly be hunting for here?"
The answer was immediate, obvious, and terrifying. There was only one prize in this entire city worthy of the attention of such a monstrous organization.
"Yao Lao," I breathed. "They're here for Yao Lao."
We looked at each other, the same horrifying realization dawning on both of us. The ring on Xiao Yan's finger was not just a ticket to godhood for him; it was a luminous beacon for the greatest evil on the continent. The Hall of Souls might not know for certain that Yao Lao was here, but they clearly suspected something. They had an agent on the ground, patiently watching, waiting, and searching.
And we, with our recent, high-profile activities, had been dancing right in the middle of their silent hunting ground. My public display of alchemical knowledge, Ming's inexplicable power, our mysterious origins—we had painted a massive target on our backs, not just for the local clans, but for a predator we could not possibly hope to fight.
Our entire strategy, our doctrine of ruthless, proactive self-interest, had been built on a foundation of incomplete information. It was now obsolete.
"We have to change course," I said decisively, my mind racing to formulate a new plan, a new philosophy for survival. "Our plan to be 'vultures' was reckless. It was arrogant. We can't afford to draw any more attention to ourselves. From this moment on, our priority isn't profit or opportunity. It's staying invisible."
Ming nodded, his expression grim. "What's the new plan?"
"We become ghosts," I declared. "We operate from the deepest shadows. We continue to gather strength, but with absolute, paranoid discretion. Our public activities cease. Our 'business partnership' with the Xiao Clan becomes a quiet, infrequent affair. We fade from the public consciousness."
I began to pace the floor of the forge, laying out our new priorities. "First, information. We have to identify the Hall of Souls agent. My 'Soul-Guiding Hand' is our only tool for this. I can feel their spiritual residue. It's possible I could feel it on the person themselves, if I got close enough. But we must do it without ever letting them know we can.
"Second," I continued, "accelerated training. We were training hard before. Now, we train like our lives depend on it, because they do. We need to reach the Dou Zhe stage as fast as possible. That leap in power is our best chance of having any kind of defensive capability if we're discovered.
"And third… the Xiao Yan problem." I sighed, rubbing my temples. "He's no longer just a rival or the protagonist of a story we've broken. He's the unwitting shepherd of a priceless treasure that the wolves are circling. We cannot let the Hall of Souls get their hands on that ring. If they capture Yao Lao here, in this city, they will likely slaughter everyone and burn the entire place to ash to cover their tracks. Our own survival is now intrinsically linked to keeping that ring out of their grasp."
Ming was silent for a long moment, processing the terrifying new paradigm. The playful confidence was gone, replaced by the cold focus of the Honored One facing a worthy threat.
"Alright," he said finally, his voice devoid of its usual humor. "Ghosts it is. Time to see how quiet Gojo Satoru can be when he's not the strongest one in the room."
Our new doctrine was set, born not of ambition, but of mortal fear. Our first act as ghosts had to be immediate, a direct response to the new threat.
I looked at the mountain of crates filled with herbs, some of which were now confirmed to be tainted with the spiritual signature of our unseen enemy.
"I have to check every single one," I said, my voice a mixture of dread and determination. "Every leaf, every root, every flower. I need to know the extent of the agent's access. I need to see if there's a pattern. It's the only lead we have."
It was a monumental, mind-numbingly tedious, and spiritually exhausting task that would take weeks. But it was necessary.
The chapter of our lives as bold, audacious players was over. The chapter of our lives as paranoid, ghost-like hunters had just begun. I sat down on the cold stone floor, surrounded by the spoils of a victory that now felt hollow and terrifying. I picked up the first stalk of grass from a new crate, closed my eyes, and extended my soul, not in search of power, but in a desperate hunt for the phantom menace that threatened to consume us all. The game had changed, and survival depended on mastering its new, terrifying rules.