By the third day, Xu Yan understood something clearly:
Reputation was more dangerous than weakness.
The Silent Flame Guild did not operate on admiration. It operated on hierarchy. Every disciple had a place. Every advancement displaced someone else.
And Xu Yan had begun to shift.
It started quietly.
A lower disciple approached him at dawn, pale and sweating, spiritual circulation in chaos.
Xu Yan corrected it in five breaths.
Another came at midday.
Then another.
By evening, five disciples had sought him out.
He accepted no payment. He asked for no favors.
That was deliberate.
Ling Xiu stood beside him beneath the cedar that night, arms folded, gaze sharp.
"You're accelerating," she said.
"I'm calibrating."
"You're creating imbalance," she corrected.
Xu Yan did not deny it.
"Better I control the narrative early."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, approving despite herself.
"You're aware the inner court physicians will notice."
"They already have."
As if summoned by the thought, footsteps echoed across stone.
Three figures approached.
Not disciples.
Inner court.
Ranked.
One of them—tall, composed, eyes cool—stepped forward.
"You are Xu Yan."
Not a question.
"Yes."
"You have been adjusting meridian flow without authorization."
Ling Xiu's voice brushed his thoughts, calm but firm:
"Do not submit. Do not provoke."
Xu Yan met the man's gaze evenly.
"I have corrected minor circulation errors. No invasive procedures."
The second inner disciple spoke sharply.
"Minor? Two disciples reported immediate stabilization."
"They exaggerated," Xu Yan said mildly.
The tall one watched him carefully.
"You're either talented… or reckless."
Xu Yan did not look away.
"I am careful."
Silence.
Measured.
Then:
"Prove it."
The tall disciple extended his wrist.
There it was.
This was not accusation.
This was assessment.
Ling Xiu's presence sharpened.
"He is testing you. His channels are deliberately suppressed. He wants to see if you overreach."
Xu Yan placed two fingers against the man's pulse.
Immediately he felt it—
Layered suppression technique.
Controlled instability.
A trap for arrogance.
He did not attempt correction.
Instead, he withdrew his hand after a moment.
"You don't require treatment," Xu Yan said calmly.
The tall disciple's eyes flickered.
"Explain."
"Your suppression is intentional. If I interfered, I would disrupt your internal training."
A pause.
A faint smile touched the man's lips.
Correct answer.
"What is your background?" he asked.
"Independent study."
"Under whose guidance?"
Xu Yan held his gaze.
"No one currently in this realm."
That was not a lie.
It was simply incomplete.
The tall disciple studied him one last moment.
"Continue your 'independent study.' But understand this — if you destabilize anyone, responsibility falls to you."
"Understood."
They left.
Ling Xiu's form solidified immediately once they were gone.
"That," she said coolly, "was dangerous."
"It was necessary."
"You could have impressed him further."
"And exposed myself."
She tilted her head.
"You are restraining yourself deliberately."
"Yes."
Her expression shifted.
Not disapproval.
Recognition.
"You remember what happened last time."
Xu Yan's jaw tightened.
"I remember enough."
The next escalation came from a different direction.
Money.
The steward from the resource hall returned, this time with formal documentation.
"You have accumulated enough contribution credit for intermediate herb access," he said. "However… demand has risen."
Xu Yan understood instantly.
Scarcity pressure.
"The guild adjusts prices when demand rises?" he asked mildly.
The steward smiled thinly.
"Supply and discipline must remain balanced."
Translation:
You're becoming relevant.
Relevance costs.
Ling Xiu's voice turned analytical.
"Push back subtly."
Xu Yan nodded.
"I will require stable access if I am to continue assisting disciples," he said evenly. "If prices fluctuate unpredictably, my services will also fluctuate."
The steward paused.
That was unexpected.
"You are negotiating?"
"I am stabilizing expectations."
Long silence.
Then:
"Very well. Fixed rate for thirty days."
Xu Yan inclined his head.
The steward left.
Ling Xiu's eyes gleamed.
"You negotiated with a guild steward."
"I adjusted incentives."
She laughed softly.
"You're dangerous."
That night, he began refining something different.
Not tonic.
Not stamina enhancement.
A controlled channel stabilizer — slightly more complex.
He kept the flame low.
Breath steady.
Ling Xiu stood behind him, watching closely.
"Too hot," she said.
He reduced heat.
"Good. Now compress the essence before fusion."
He followed precisely.
The pill formed smoother than expected.
High-grade for his realm.
He stared at it.
This was superior quality.
Too superior.
Ling Xiu's voice lowered.
"If you release that into circulation, attention will spike."
Xu Yan considered.
Then made a decision.
He deliberately scarred the surface slightly with controlled energy.
Reducing visible perfection.
Ling Xiu watched him.
"You marred it."
"I disguised it."
A slow smile spread across her face.
"You truly are Nangong."
But attention comes whether invited or not.
Three days later, he was summoned.
Not by inner disciples.
By Elder Jian.
The hidden courtyard.
The still basin.
Xu Yan stepped forward calmly.
Ling Xiu's voice quieted.
"Be precise."
Elder Jian studied him without greeting.
"You have been active."
"I have been useful."
"You negotiate with stewards."
"I maintain stability."
"You refine pills."
"Yes."
Silence.
Then:
"Why?"
Direct.
No evasion possible.
Xu Yan answered truthfully.
"To become indispensable."
The air grew heavier.
The other elders watched.
"Ambition," one murmured.
"Yes," Xu Yan replied without hesitation.
"But structured ambition."
Elder Jian's eyes sharpened.
"You believe usefulness protects you?"
"It delays hostility."
A faint sound — almost a laugh — escaped one of the elders.
Elder Jian stepped closer.
"Understand this: the moment you become too useful… you become controllable."
Xu Yan did not react outwardly.
Inside, Ling Xiu's tone sharpened.
"He is warning you."
"I understand," Xu Yan said.
"Then tell me," Elder Jian said quietly, "what prevents us from assigning you permanently to medical duty?"
The trap.
If he accepted, he became locked.
If he refused, he appeared arrogant.
Xu Yan bowed slightly.
"I would serve if assigned. But limiting development reduces long-term value."
Bold.
Calculated.
Elder Jian studied him for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
"You will continue as you are."
Permission.
Conditional.
Ling Xiu exhaled softly once they left.
"That was the real test."
"Yes."
"You walked the edge."
"I'm getting used to it."
She looked at him with something different now.
Not teasing.
Not testing.
Respect.
Later that night, alone beneath the cedar, Xu Yan finally allowed himself a slow breath.
The golden beast rested beside him.
Ling Xiu appeared fully, moonlight outlining her figure.
"You are accelerating faster than projected," she said.
"You sound concerned."
"I am recalculating."
He looked at her.
"Are we ahead of schedule?"
"Yes."
"Is that bad?"
"Only if you forget that speed attracts predators."
He nodded.
Then asked quietly:
"What's next?"
She did not hesitate.
"Formations."
His eyes sharpened.
"That will shift the board."
"Yes," she agreed.
"And once formations begin… you are no longer just useful."
"What am I then?"
Her gaze locked onto his.
"You become strategic infrastructure."
Silence stretched between them.
The wind moved through the cedar leaves.
Far below, disciples trained, unaware.
Xu Yan rose slowly.
"Then we begin tomorrow."
Ling Xiu's expression turned fierce — proud, possessive, unyielding.
"Good."
Her voice softened slightly.
"We do not rush."
"We do not expose."
"We do not dominate prematurely."
Xu Yan nodded.
"And we do not lose."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"That's the Nangong way."
The night deepened.
The robes absorbed moonlight, their concealment pattern subtly humming.
Step by step, he was no longer just surviving inside the Silent Flame Guild.
He was embedding himself into its structure.
And when the time came—
Extraction would not be necessary.
Because the structure would belong to him