Qing'er fell asleep not long after breakfast.
Lin Xuan watched her for a moment after she settled, her breathing evening out, lashes resting softly against her cheeks. The ache in her body hadn't fully faded, but her expression was peaceful—unguarded in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
He adjusted the blanket around her, careful not to wake her, then stood.
There were things he needed to take care of.
He left the room quietly and made his way across the estate, his steps unhurried. The morning bustle of the Lin Clan had begun to rise—disciples moving between courtyards, servants carrying out their duties—but none of it slowed him.
He stopped in front of another door.
Shen Yao's.
He raised his hand and knocked once.
A moment later, the door opened.
Shen Yao stood there, already dressed and composed, her hair tied back neatly. She looked up at him with a hint of curiosity rather than surprise.
"You're early," she said.
"We're going out," Lin Xuan replied simply. "To the Trading Association again. Are you ready?"
She studied him for a heartbeat, then nodded. "Give me a moment."
She returned quickly, closing the door behind her, and the two of them set off without further delay.
The streets were livelier than before. Merchants shouted prices, cultivators passed by in small groups, and the faint scent of incense and cooked food lingered in the air.
As they walked, Shen Yao spoke.
"My reading has improved," she said. "More than I expected."
Lin Xuan glanced at her. "That's good."
"I can understand most of the texts now," she continued. "Not just the basic scripts, but the contextual meanings too. Qing'er gave me several books—about the surrounding kingdoms, major sects, and cultivation classifications. I've been reading them at night."
She hesitated slightly before adding, "I don't want to be ignorant forever."
Lin Xuan's expression softened, just a little.
"Keep at it," he said. "Foundations matter. We'll start your actual cultivation soon—but understanding the world you're stepping into is just as important."
She nodded, encouraged.
They reached the HBTA(I'll Just refer it HBTA or The Trading Association as the entire name is too lrngthy) not long after.
The building was as imposing as ever, its exterior refined and understated, yet unmistakably powerful. Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately—quieter, more controlled, every movement measured.
The same attendant from before looked up.
Fang.
The moment he saw Lin Xuan, his eyes lit up with unmistakable relief.
"Young—ah, sir," Fang corrected himself smoothly, standing up. "You've returned."
"I have," Lin Xuan said. "And with something more important than last time."
Fang's posture straightened instantly. "Please, follow me."
This time, they weren't led to a semi-private area.
Instead, Fang guided them deeper into the association, stopping before a reinforced door etched with faint runes. He pressed his palm against a panel, and the door slid open silently.
"A private booth," Fang explained as they entered. "Full privacy. Sound isolation. Defensive and concealment arrays are active at all times."
Shen Yao glanced around, visibly impressed.
Lin Xuan nodded once and took a seat. Fang sat opposite him, posture attentive.
As soon as everyone was settled, Lin Xuan reached into his storage pouch.
Eight small pill bottles appeared on the table.
Fang's eyes sharpened.
"These are…?" he asked carefully.
"A Foundation Stabilizing Pill," Lin Xuan said. "Designed for cultivators upto Core Formation Realm."
Fang's hand froze mid-reach.
"…Stabilizing," he repeated slowly.
Lin Xuan continued calmly. "It reduces internal imbalance during breakthrough attempts, lowers the risk of qi deviation, and improves long-term foundation stability. The effects are weaker than a full-grade pill—but far safer, and far more accessible."
Fang picked up one bottle, uncorked it slightly, and inhaled.
His pupils contracted.
"If this is real," he said quietly, "then this isn't just valuable. It's disruptive."
"Exactly."
Fang looked up. "You understand what this means, don't you? Entire sects would want exclusive access. Even the city's major families—"
"I don't intend to sell it privately," Lin Xuan interrupted. "Not yet."
Fang paused. "…You're thinking of the auction."
"Yes."
Fang exhaled slowly, then nodded. "There's a weekly auction in 3 days. Smaller than the monthly one—but items that can't be priced conventionally are placed there. These pills qualify."
"They'll need verification," Lin Xuan said.
"Of course," Fang replied. "The master alchemist will personally examine them."
Lin Xuan leaned back. "Do it. Inform me when the auction is scheduled."
Fang hesitated, then said, "You'll need to stay briefly. If the verification passes, you'll receive an invitation card. A VIP at the very least."
Lin Xuan studied him for a moment, then nodded.
Fang left the booth with the pills.
Shen Yao remained silent the entire time, watching Lin Xuan with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper—something like dawning realization.
Minutes passed.
When Fang returned, his expression was different.
Respectful.
Almost reverent.
"It's confirmed," he said. "The effects are exactly as described."
He placed a black-and-gold card on the table.
"VVIP invitation," he added. "The auction will notify you directly."
Lin Xuan accepted the card without ceremony. "Good."
They departed shortly after.
The streets had begun to quiet as the day progressed.
They hadn't gone far when—
Something shifted.
Lin Xuan's steps didn't falter, but his senses sharpened instantly. A faint prickle ran down his spine—not fear, but awareness.
Someone was watching.
No.
Following.
His instincts—tempered by a lifetime of combat and sharpened further by his perfected body—screamed warning.
He spoke without turning his head.
"Shen Yao," he said calmly, "go back to the Lin estate."
She stiffened. "What?"
"Now."
She heard it then—the subtle edge beneath his voice.
"Is something—"
"Go," he said, firmer this time. "Stay in public areas. Don't stop."
She hesitated, then nodded sharply and turned down another street without looking back.
Lin Xuan watched her disappear into the crowd.
Then he changed direction.
He moved toward a narrower street, then another, until the noise faded and shadows grew longer. An abandoned alley yawned ahead—dark, silent, empty.
He stepped into it.
And stopped.
"Come out," he said.
The air rippled.
A figure emerged as though shedding the world itself—concealment technique fading, presence solidifying.
A man dressed in muted black stood before him, eyes sharp and cold.
"Well," the assassin said lightly, "you're sharper than your reputation suggests."
Lin Xuan said nothing.
The man tilted his head. "Smart choice. Fewer variables here."
Silence stretched between them.
Inside, Lin Xuan's blood stirred.
Not fear.
Anticipation.
His hand hovered near his sword.
His mind was already calculating angles, distances, timing.
His newly learned sword manual surfaced in his thoughts, each movement clear, each feint precise.
Let him lower his guard.
One opening.
For the first time since entering this body—
Lin Xuan felt it.
The thrill.
The edge of death.
And he welcomed it.