The tailor’s workshop was one of the few establishments of this sort in Xiaren Ghetto, and, frankly speaking, wasn’t very profitable. That’s because the residents preferred to wear their clothes until they start falling apart and a bit longer. A culture of manually fixing your cloth developed, and not many people had a taste for professional tailor service.

Therefore, the owner had to resort to alternate models of business to sustain himself. Having failed to make it big gambling, his next big plan was investing in producing alcohol illegally. The equipment necessary to build an ad-hoc distillery was quite costly, but the returns were more than worth it. There were many patrons in the poverty-stricken district who really needed a drink, and for a while, the future looked bright.

Until that rascal, Yawei, robbed a store too many and the guards retaliated by doing a slums-wide search for the villain. They failed to find him, but didn’t fail to find his reputable new source of income, and shut it down. Now the (former)tailor found himself once again on the verge of poverty and had to go so low as to mug and rob fellow yaren. Who was to blame him? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

But even such endeavor, which he was to pay so dearly for with ever guilty conscience, didn’t work out as intended. And all because of that nephew of his, who, beyond being a lazy good for nothing, happened to have a pesky sense of the so-called justice.

And now this freeloader was resting at the attic of his workshop, apparently being chased by the guards for doing something stupid again, this time in broad daylight.

Oh? Well, let’s see how the so-called karma works!

An elaborate plan hatched in the mind of a cunning fox…..

………..

It’s been several hours since Fuhei found shelter at uncle Yuhei’s workshop, and the sun was already setting down, bathing the city in orange rays of sunshine-not unlike his hair color. His arm improved, or so he thought. At the very least it didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, he didn’t feel a thing anymore, and couldn’t move it at all.

Is that good?

However, not being in pain anymore did miracles for the clarity of his thoughts. And his clear, rational thoughts told him one thing- he was in trouble. A lot of it.

There is no way he can continue operating incognito as Yawei anymore. In fact, he can’t operate as Fuhei, either. The guards will put the wanted posters they are so fond of and find him in no time. He was not naive-he knew that there are many yaren who wouldn’t hesitate to sell their own for a bit of money to the despicable humans.

It’s just that…he didn’t expect his uncle to betray him.

The attic had only one staircase that served as a point of entry, and one tiny window, too small for a semi-adult body to crawl out through it. And he sure tried. When the guards swarmed the workshop, he panicked and did a lot of stupid things.

Such as putting the ring on the left hand and threatening to use it. However, remembering well what happened last time, he hesitated, which earned him a knocking out blow on the head. Ahh, should have concealed it instead, maybe swallow it or something!

When he woke up, everything around him was dark. Not necessarily because it was night-it might have been-but because he was sprawled on the cold, stone floor in a deep, dark dungeon. The ring was gone, as was his sanity. He spent the next minutes, or perhaps hours, shaking the bars like some exotic animal in captivity and torn his vocal cords screaming. Eventually, however, despair settled in, and he resigned himself to whatever cruel fate they are preparing for him.

And with despair, a certain type of defiance followed. If he’s screwed either way, the best he can do is to not give them the satisfaction of learning anything about himself!

However, this valiant resolve was shattered as soon as he heard the lock turn in the heavy door leading to his cell. His heart felt like it was going to burst, and he would do everything to be everywhere but where he was now. A couple of muscular men entered his modest adobe. They will probably beat the living hell out of him now!

….but instead of doing that, they just brought in a wooden table, a couple of chairs to go along with it, and a brightly lit candle, which illuminated the cell.

Then they left without as much as looking at him.

And then she came in. He recognized her immediately, and cursed rather audibly, which earned him a bright smile, and she clapped like a little kid excited to get some presents.

“Now, now, now…..that’s not how you should great a guest, am I right?”

She had a point. It really wasn’t nice, and wouldn’t be nice, in any other circumstances that is.

“So, are you my torturer?”

“I might be, at some point in the future. But it’s not good etiquette to harm suspects on the very first interview.”

He had no idea what interrogation etiquette is, or if people in such a grim profession had one in the first place.

She sat on the opposite end of the table and wordlessly invited him to sit on the opposite side. Since his legs hurt quite badly, he saw no reason to keep standing around and did as he was told.

Now that Fuhei had a good look at her, she was probably in her twenties and would be quite attractive, if not for that ugly scar that marked half of her face. So that’s what the bandages hid back then, huh. Despite feeling cold, hurt, and frankly speaking, quite scared, he couldn’t contain his curiosity and asked about it.

“My cat scratched me” she responded and laughed at what he assumed was her own joke.

He played along and asked if it was a tiger.

She didn’t play along, and deflected a question with a question of her own, asking him if he’s that Yawei fellow.

Fuhei decided to play stupid, but felt his heartbeat rapidly accelerating.

“Do I look like a hero to you?”

She laughed again and stood up. He was totally prepared to get hit, and tensed his muscles, bracing for incoming impact. But instead, she pat him on the head and affectionately played with his fox ears.

While she did that, he noticed a rather expensive-looking sword, its handguard decorated with elaborate dragon patterns, strapped to her hip. If only he could grab it with his free hand…

“Hey, where are you looking~?”

….And then she kicked him.

And no regular kick it was. The force sent him flying, and he rolled like a ragdoll on the cold stone floor, until eventually stopping when hitting the wall on the opposite side of the cell. Something made an audible noise in his back, but seeing as he was still able to stand up, it was probably…hopefully…nothing serious.

The mischievous smiles that seemed permanently plastered to her face was now gone, and she was looking at him with an emotionless, and deadly serious expression. Without a word of explanation, she took out an all too familiar ring and placed it on the table.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No idea”

She shrugged dismissively as if she expected that answer.

“Do you want it back?”

After asking that, she undid his shackles.

Then stood up, turned her back on him, and made a few steps towards the cell door, away from the table, the candle, and the ring. She looked back and glanced at him, her ghastly cold gaze scrutinizing him.

“You can take it.”

It felt like some sort of trap, but nonetheless, having no better option, he decided to play along anyway and examined the object on the table. The ring looked exactly like the one he had. Was it a faithful copy? Did they manage to make one already? Or do they have several of these premade just in case?

Or was it the real deal?

He scratched his neck, annoyed. It’s useless! He doesn’t know, he must gather more information.

“Why would you give me this?”

“Why not? I’m sure you’re eager to put it on whatever limb you have left and fire it again” She winked and flashed him a rather obnoxious smile. “Use it once more, and see what happens~”

He stared at the ring for a while. If he used it, he could win his freedom…no, he can’t. There is no way they’d risk like that. There’s gotta be a hook.

He sat down, resigned.

“….so what was going to happen, if I used it again?”

Seeing he is not willing to actually do it, she gave a rather dissatisfied frown, and slowly approached the table. Picking up the ring, she sat on the other side and looked straight into his eyes before giving the reply.

“Death”

Just a single word. But it was enough to send shivers down his spine.

Death, huh. End of life. He risked that life of his many times during his adventurous escapades, but it was always a gamble, a matter of risk management. At no point in his life was he actually prepared for the absolute end, nor did he seek it.

“What kind of cursed device it is?”

She clapped again.

“That’s right! You’re not as stupid as you look! It’s a cursed device. Demonic. Now you know why they are forbidden and locked up!”

She approached him and leaned over, her expression once again deadly serious, as she explained in a robotic and matter-of-fact tone.

“Its method of action is quite simple if I dare say so myself. It amplifies the qi its owner draws from both himself, and the surrounding environment, them condenses it inside the owner’s meridians, and allows him to use it in whatever way he chooses to….” she paused, returned to her seat, and only then finished her sentence, a mischievous smile back on her maimed face “though recently, it seems the owners are biased towards producing flashy explosions.”

This woman’s mood swings were, frankly speaking, more disturbing than the subject matter.

“I just put it on, pointed it in whatever direction I wanted to, and kinda ordered to destroy stuff….I don’t know anything about qi or any of that!”

That was only half true, because he had some idea about a lot of things, but decided to risk it anyway.

She blinked several times., and presented him an expression of shock with a hint of worry.

“I take back what I said. You are, without a shadow of doubt, a moron.”

Thanks, and you are ugly, he thought to himself. Then realized how childish this insult sounds considering his situation, and laughed out loud. Unfazed, or perhaps uninterested in the reason for his laughter, the interrogator continued.

“Even for cultivators using such a device, there is a limit to how many times they can do it in a certain period of time before their system overloads. For you yaren, who possess neither the cultivation foundation nor the golden core……it’s like trying to pump blood into an organism that has neither a bloodstream nor a heart.”

He tried to imagine a creature that has neither a bloodstream nor a heart but failed miserably. Like a fish or a slug? No, even these have some blood and other liquids inside. Was she just messing around? Such creatures can’t possibly exist!

“By the way…do you know how the previous owner died?” A funny smile was back on her face, but he slowly started to figure her out. In short, not a single face nor a slightest tone of her voice was genuine-it was all some kind of theatrical play, meant to excite the desired reaction in him, and lead his thoughts along certain predetermined routes.

And he wasn’t going to fall for any of that!

“How should I know?”

“Oh, I think you know, Fuhei. After all, you took this thing of his corpse.”

“How do you know my….” he stopped mid-sentence. There must be something really wrong with his brain after all. Of course, they knew everything about him already. And even if they didn’t, saying ‘how do you know my name’ only certifies that it’s, indeed, his name.

“Fuhei, age 15, no close relations, unemployed, unknown source of income…shall I provide your address, too?”

“No thanks, I know where I live.”

“So, Fuhei, are we done playing stupid, or do you want to joke around some more?”

That was a very good question. No matter how he looked at it, his situation was rather precarious. Perhaps it’s indeed, time to stop playing tough and try to negotiate?

However, to negotiate, he needs to have some kind of trump card. If he just told them everything, he’d be at their mercy. Let’s see…

“You got me. I was in the sewers that day, and stole this ring of the corpse of some baldy who was drowning in the sewage. HOWEVER! Before he died in convulsions, he told me a lot of things, that you might be interested in….”

“What a coincidence!” exclaimed the woman “I came to this modest abode today just to ask you about these very things!”

……Not good.

“You see, Yawei, Fuhei, or however you want to call yourself….we, of the sect, don’t care about your petty crimes. In fact, we are quite grateful, because you keep the local guard from getting totally complacent.” She leaned forward and raised her finger meaningfully, and added “However, the situation changes if you get involved in the sectarian business. Then people like me are called, and well, it turns quite nasty…. "

Did the previous Yawei get involved in the so-called “sectarian business”, that’s why they got rid of him? However, he didn’t inquire about that. Instead, he obediently nodded his head.

“I don’t want it to get nasty…”

“Good, because neither do I~ as far the guards outside are concerned, you’re just some idiot who got hold of some black powder and tossed it into a cordon of their friends. They are mad as hell itself, and will probably not let you go without removing a limb or two, and a prolonged session of public lashing…”

She flashed her white teeth again. He really didn’t like these teeth of hers, and wished he could cave them in. But he just learned a useful piece of information-they don’t have any solid evidence he’s Yawei.

“Now imagine what they are going to do when I tell them that in addition to that, you’re also that Yawei you kept causing them so much trouble as of late~” she made a horizontal motion alongside her neck.

“I didn’t quite talk to him a lot….” he confessed, resigned. “He was completely out of it, all I understood was that he wanted me to take that ring and bring him to his master in the north. Supposedly I would be compensated financially upon delivery…..”

Her eyes went huge, and her body stiffened. She leaned uncomfortably close and whispered to his ear.

“What name Fuhei? Who was the miscreant’s master? Who?”

Fuhei made an effort to remember. The baldie screamed that name over and over again as his life was being snuffed. What was it? Bai something? Come on, it shouldn’t be hard to remember!

“Bai….Caoren”

Hearing that, an ugly, displeased grimace flashed through her face. Was this the first genuine expression she showed him? But before he could celebrate this short lived victory, she pulled on his ear sharply and screamed right into it.

“WHO!? No one like that exists! Are you trying to FOOL me, after we’ve become such good friends!?”

“No, no, no I swear! This is the name! A-at least, that’s the name I remember!” he could feel tears come to his eyes, and for a while he was afraid that she’s going to rip it off.

Eventually, she let him go and seemingly calmed herself down almost as quickly as she lost her cool.

“Ok, Fuhei, I choose to believe you. For now. Is there anything else he told you?”

“No”

“Perhaps something you want to tell me?”

He thought about getting some food and drink, but in the end decided against making such a demand.

“What were you doing in the sewers in the middle of the day?”

Oh no…

Seeing his consternation, she continued, speaking slightly louder this time.

“Perhaps some kind of secret hideout, where you keep all your fancy weapons and gadgets?”

He shivered. Damn, she was scary. But he kept silent, not saying a thing, and mentally bracing for more beating.

But the woman just leaned back and shrugged.

“Like I said, Yawei is guard’s problem, not ours. For now, consider this interrogation over. I’ll let you think about your life for a couple of days, and then we shall have exactly the same conversation. Just in case you happen to remember some additional details and decide to be more cooperative~”

She stood up, and left the cell without saying anything else.

For a short while he hoped she actually forgot to put his shackles back on, but a couple of guards who came into the cell as soon as she left and did that job for her.

Fuhei felt cold, hungry, betrayed, and, most importantly, sick of everything and everyone. His right arm remained motionless and devoid of all feelings. On the other hand, his ribs, which received the full force of the kick hurt like hell and his ear seriously felt like it might fall off at any moment. The despair of his situation was slowly but surely closing in on him again.

In the end, his plan to play it smart failed, and he pretty much told her everything, while only concealing…no, simply not admitting…to be Yawei.

For all he knew, they already decided to kill him and were just sucking him dry for information before discarding like a broken toy. If he keeps playing around and pretending to be stupid he might prolong his lifespan by a few miserable days, but was it even worth it? What if they start torturing him for real?

………………………………….

Damn, she really wasn’t cut out for it!

The intelligence department was a semi-secret branch of the Wuyun sect.

Unlike most cultivators, who selfishly focused on the pursuit of immortality, in addition to whatever short-sighted dreams and ambitions they had, they had both a goal and a purpose.

Created by Supreme Leader Bai Zihan, back when the sect was but a local power, they were the key to its current success and unprecedented sway Wuyun held over all of the middle kingdom. Charged with gathering and analyzing intelligence, they kept their ever-watchful eyes on enemies and allies alike. Composed of torturers, pharmacists, hypnotists, and other such, they had a wide array of talent to respond to and crush just about any threat before it was even able to fully manifest.

However, Mei Rulan’s specialization was nothing of the sort. It was reconnaissance. In other words, she was a scout. She should be out in the wilds, tracking the movement of people, mapping terrain, and setting spy array networks. Not beating up kids in some smelly dungeon late past midnight!

Unfortunately, the previous leader of the local intelligence branch, Bao Zimo, died in rather unfortunate circumstances. Since cultivators don’t grow on trees, the honor of succeeding him fell to her, at least until they find a suitable replacement.

Some guardsmen passing her by frantically saluted at the sight of her uniform. Ah yes, the uniform. The stiff, ugly uniform, that evokes fear and authority. Since the intelligence department is basically composed of spies, who work incognito, most of the time they aren’t required to wear anything that obnoxious. However, the current situation required her to take the leadership of the entire guard force of Kiyi, and she had to look like a leader so that lemmings would follow.

Going out of the guard outpost, she took a deep breath of fresh night air. Or at least it would have been fresh, or could have been fresh, if she was somewhere deep in the mountains. Here, in the city, the smell was rather dodgy, partially due to the proximity to the slums.

She gazed at the Kiyi fortress, its high walls illuminated by countless torches. All that’s left now is to bring the ring to Supreme Leader and report her findings, and she’ll have a well-deserved rest. At least until tomorrow. The demonic artifact will be locked safely in some vault, and she will….don’t know what. Frankly speaking, she had no idea what Bai Zihan is going to do with her report.

The name that young fox gave her…Bai Caoren…who’s that?

She had actually, literally no idea. Never met that person, never heard of that person. For all she knew, it could have been some name the young fool made up on the spot to buy himself some time. A futile effort!

But if there is anyone who would know, it’s the Supreme Leader. There is no way she wouldn’t know someone of her own clan…right?

This entire business started after their rather inglorious return from hell itself, reminisced Mei Rulan, walking the long stairs along the castle’s inner wall. Bai Zihan, after reading her report, and listening to her and Bai Yunru’s version of the story in person, proclaimed that there must be rats among them. All sect cultivators present in the city, save for a few trusted ones, were placed under arrest and interrogated one by one.

And soon enough, a rat emerged. However, before they could apprehend him, he manifested unfathomable power, blew a hole in the wall of the fortress, and flew away, landing somewhere in the city.

This level of ability had never before been observed in the individual known as Yan Bojing, so it was concluded he must have supplemented himself with some kind of demonic device. The manner in which he died, organ failure due to qi deviation, supported that theory.

But to think the mysterious device they’ve been looking for was this stupid ring all along! What a waste of time! That’s one of the simplest magical artifacts to exist-only a fool would use it, and only a fool would care to spend resources to hunt for it.

It felt almost like finding this spy was all according to some mastermind’s plan, as if they were played like puppets by an invisible puppeteer.

She didn’t like that feeling. The feeling of powerlessness.

Finally, she made it to the top. Walking through the main plaza, then the conference hall, then navigating the maze of smaller corridors inside the castle was no problem for her. Most of her operations took place in the northern wildlands, and she often returned to the City of Stone to give reports and receive new orders. It was the closest to “home” she ever had.

Her parental home….the migrant Chuhua clan….she barely had any memories of that time period. And whatever memories she has, are soaked with pain and abuse. There was no doubt in Mei Rulan’s mind that Wuyun sect is where she belongs, and the life the sect gave her is infinitely better than whatever awaited her in that place, in her native tribe. Besides, the black cloud sect is a power without equal, while the nomadic, foreign people she initially belonged to are shunned and mistreated all over the civilized world.

And most certainly, it’s better to associate with the winners, rather than the losers.