The moment Wei Long stepped inside, I felt an uneasy shift in the air. His eyes scanned the room, lingering just a beat too long on every corner and shadow. It wasn’t the casual glance of a visitor; he was looking for something—or someone. I tensed, keeping my expression neutral as I gestured toward a seat near the counter.
I resisted the urge to confront him then and there. Even if I did, what could I do? He was a first-class disciple; that wasn’t someone I could attack on a whim.
If he was in cahoots with the bandit that attacked my garden, then it was fair to assume he knew of Tianyi. And I had to be as cautious as possible.
“What brings you by this early, Wei Long?” I asked, careful to keep my tone light.
He smiled, but it was tight and controlled, his eyes never quite warming. “I thought it best to continue our previous conversation, especially after last night’s... incident.” His gaze was intense, unwavering. “Kai, it’s time to reconsider our offer to protect the village. Gentle Wind needs real defenses. Our sect can provide that.”
I kept my face neutral, though my mind raced with several emotions.
Why was he so insistent? And... why come to me?
“I appreciate that, Wei Long, really,” I said slowly, “but... wouldn’t it make more sense to approach the Village Head directly?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I’m just the village herbalist, after all.”
He held my gaze, leaning forward just slightly. “I could speak with the Village Head, yes. But it’s clear that the village listens to you, Kai. They trust you. They look to you.” His smile grew faintly, as though he enjoyed letting this realization settle over me. “Even the Village Head defers to you in matters of security.”
My mouth went dry. The casual tone I’d been trying to keep up wavered. I’d thought of myself as the herbalist, the kid who helped out and was sometimes asked for advice. But the truth was there in Wei Long’s words, and it clicked into place, even if I didn’t fully want to acknowledge it. I wasn’t just the herbalist to the people here. I was... someone they looked to for answers, for protection.
I’d put myself in that role without even realizing it.
“Now do you see?” Wei Long said, his voice smooth. “You’re already a leader here, Kai. It’s only natural that you’d be the one to make this decision.” He paused, letting his words linger. “And with Narrow Stone Peak’s support, you’d have even more strength to defend the village from future threats.”
I let out a slow breath, careful not to reveal my true feelings. “It’s... something to consider, definitely,” I replied, feigning a thoughtful pause. “But I’ll still need some time. This decision isn’t something I can rush into, and you know how people can be with change.”
Wei Long’s smile thinned, but he nodded. “Of course, Kai. But don’t take too long. The break-in was only the first sign. There are others who will come, drawn by the qi here. With our help, they’d have no reason to worry. You’d have our top disciples deployed here, prepared to protect the village from any threat.” His voice dropped a notch, his tone unmistakable. “And without us... well, it’s your responsibility to keep them safe, isn’t it?”
I resisted the urge to scowl, forcing my shoulders to relax instead. “I understand. A few more days, that’s all I ask.”
He nodded, seemingly appeased, though his eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary. Then, in a voice nearly too casual, he added, “And remember, we’re also here to support your growth. Even if you’re not interested in joining Narrow Stone Peak, you could gain training, resources... things that would be difficult to come by otherwise. You’ve done well so far, Kai, but there’s only so much one can achieve alone.”
I held his gaze, feigning contemplation even as my resolve hardened. “I appreciate the offer, Wei Long. Really. It would be an honor to train alongside your disciples... but I need a bit more time to think about what’s best for the village.”
He studied me, but I kept my expression neutral, unyielding. Finally, he gave a small, almost reluctant nod. “Of course. But don’t take too long. This isn’t the kind of decision that can wait.”
I walked him to the door, watching as he scanned the room one last time before he stepped out. He paused on the threshold, turning to look at me one final time.
“Remember, all you have to do is say the word.”
The door closed, and I stood there, his words ringing in my ears. As I looked around my shop, I thought about his insistence, his pressure, his probing gaze. This wasn’t just about defending the village. It was about control.
But I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I glanced toward the shadows where Tianyi hid, a fierce resolve settling over me. This wasn’t just about a decision for the village.
As the door closed behind Wei Long, I stood still, breathing deeply, willing the frustration and anger out of my system. I couldn’t afford for those emotions to cloud my mind or sway my judgment. Instead, I channeled them, letting each breath calm me further, refining my resolve into something sharp and focused. Wei Long had given me a few days—every second of which I intended to use. r
I could confront Wei Long, but that would only give him an opening to twist the story. And even if I showed damning evidence, what good would it do? It'd probably even bring greater danger upon the village.
No, for this, I need allies and witnesses.
"Riskier than letting them sink their claws into Gentle Wind Village unchecked?" I countered. "This is the only way, Huan. Trust me."
He studied me for a moment, then sighed heavily. "Alright. I’ll make it happen. Our fastest messenger will leave within the hour. But..." He hesitated, lowering his voice further. "I hope you know what you're doing."
I forced a small smile. "I do. And thank you, Huan. You’re doing more for this village than most will ever know."
Huan picked up the letters with both hands, as though they were made of carved jade. "I’ll see to it personally," he said. "And... take care of yourself."
With that, he disappeared into the back of the building, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint flicker of the lantern’s flame.
I stepped out into the cool morning air, the first hints of dawn creeping over the horizon. My breath puffed in the chill, my mind racing with possibilities and contingencies. This was just the first step, but it was a necessary one.
As I approached the Soaring Swallow Tea House, its windows were dark, the faint scent of last night’s revelry lingering in the air. The Narrow Stone Peak disciples were likely still deep in sleep, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around them.
I passed quickly, my steps careful and measured to avoid the crunch of snow that might disturb the silence. The tea house loomed like a sleeping beast, its presence a constant weight on my mind. Soon enough, I knew I’d have to face what lay within.
My thoughts drifted instead to Wang Jun and Lan-Yin. Elder Ming’s morning practice would be starting soon, and if I knew those two, they’d already be stirring, preparing themselves for the day’s lessons. And afterward, they’d go about their day: Wang Jun pounding away at the forge, and Lan-Yin balancing trays and tea kettles with an effortless grace.
Wang Jun’s growth had been remarkable. He’d learned to integrate the discipline and precision of martial arts into his blacksmithing. I remembered his words, how his blades had become sharper, more durable, almost as if his qi found its way into the steel, ever since he started training with Elder Ming.
Lan-Yin, on the other hand, had blossomed in her own way. Her improved physique and refined constitution allowed her to shoulder the heavy burdens of running the tea house with ease. Where once her parents had carried the weight of decades of service, she now stepped in, taking over long shifts with ease.
They were proof that this village wasn’t just a collection of homes, it was a community of talents, each finding their path and strengthening the whole.
I couldn’t let them down. Not now, when the stakes had risen so high.
A faint gust of wind stirred the stillness, and I quickened my pace.
It wasn’t long before I reached Elder Ming’s home, the modest structure nestled near the village square. The faintest trace of smoke curled from the chimney, a sign that he was likely awake, but I didn’t dare disturb him directly. Instead, I withdrew a carefully folded letter from my satchel. It was bound with simple twine.
I glanced around, ensuring the area was still and empty, before stepping into the courtyard. Kneeling, I placed the letter just inside the gate, tucking it securely against a stone where he’d be certain to see it. As I stood, I let my gaze linger on the house for a moment, imagining the reaction this letter would evoke.
In the letter, I explained the situation succinctly; Narrow Stone Peak was involved. They were behind the destruction of the garden and perhaps more. But I urged Elder Ming not to act. Not yet.
I promised that I had a plan and that the truth would be revealed in due time. I asked him to share the contents of the letter with Wang Jun and Lan-Yin, as I knew they’d press for answers soon enough. They deserved to know, even if I wasn’t ready to confront the disciples just yet.
Satisfied, I turned and slipped back into the shadows, retracing my steps toward my shop. The dawn was beginning to break, casting a faint golden hue over the village. Yet the beauty of the morning was lost on me as my thoughts swirled with what lay ahead.
When I arrived at my shop, I halted in the garden—or what was left of it. Despite the effort my friends and I had poured into clearing the debris, the phantom image of its destruction still loomed in my mind. Crushed plants, overturned soil, shattered pots—my life’s work reduced to chaos. My hands clenched into fists, and for a moment, the weight of it threatened to crush me.
But I took a deep breath, forcing my hands to unclench. This was no longer a matter that could be solved with words or peaceful negotiations.
This was my home. My sanctuary. My responsibility.
And I would not let Narrow Stone Peak destroy it.
I turned toward the shop, with Tianyi and Windy waiting patiently by the door.
From here on out, my plans would leave no room for failure.