The night after the secret meeting was heavy with mist. Bamboo groves swayed in the moonlight, whispering secrets too quiet for the world to hear. The trio had returned to their quarters before dawn — their robes torn, hands trembling, and eyes haunted by the sight of that Hei'an spy's suicide. Even now, Zhang Wei could still smell the faint iron scent of blood in the air.
For the first time in months, none of them spoke during breakfast.
Han Yu merely stared into his cup, swirling the tea until it grew cold. Pan Qiang tried to break the silence with his usual grin, but even that faltered halfway. "Guess we're officially grave diggers now," he muttered. "Every time we think we're done, we find another corpse of truth buried deeper."
Zhang Wei didn't answer. His hands rested quietly on the table, still faintly shaking. "You'll find no truth here… only lies". The dying spy's words echoed inside his head like a curse.
That afternoon, while Han Yu and Pan Qiang continued to tail the delivery routes in disguise, Zhang Wei was summoned unexpectedly to the Lakeside Pavilion — a serene garden reserved for the noble branch of the family. The messenger had said the Patriarch's first daughter, Lady Cang Lian, wished to speak with him.
He almost refused, fearing it might be a trap. But curiosity — and a subtle, familiar aura of spiritual warmth in the name "Cang Lian" — made him accept.
The pavilion shimmered in silver light. Lotus petals floated upon the still water, and an elegant figure stood beside a wooden table laden with scrolls and herbs. She wore a flowing cyan robe embroidered with faint white cranes — not a warrior's garb, but the attire of a healer.
Her presence was quiet, yet commanding. Eyes calm as a lake, yet deeper than its depths.
"So you're the new recruit who defeated three duelists using pressure-point manipulation," she said, turning gracefully. "Zhang Wei, is it?"
He bowed. "Yes, Lady Cang."
"I heard from Elder Shen you're… unconventional," she said, examining him. "Your Qi doesn't burn or blaze. It flows. You're not just a fighter — you study healing arts?"
Zhang Wei hesitated. "…I learned some methods from my former mentor."
Lady Cang Lian smiled faintly and motioned him closer. "Then tell me, Zhang Wei. What would you do if you found a patient who carries a poison so deep it's fused with his bloodline? If removing it might kill him… would you still try?"
Zhang Wei's eyes narrowed slightly — he sensed the weight behind her words.This wasn't a casual question. It was a test of knowledge and as a healer, Zhang Wei won't refuse challenge.
He took a slow breath. "If I did nothing, he would die anyway. To heal sometimes means to harm first — but only if one knows the limits of harm."
Cang Lian's gaze softened. "A healer who understands that truth walks the hardest path."She picked up a herb stalk — half green, half black. "This is Bloodroot Vine. It can either cure fever or incite rage, depending on the alchemist's intent. Tell me, which is more dangerous — the herb, or the hand that wields it?"
Zhang Wei studied the vine under the sunlight. "The hand, of course. Because no herb chooses its use. But humans always do."
A quiet silence lingered between them — one of understanding.
Cang Lian nodded approvingly. "You speak like someone who's seen both sides of healing. Tell me, Zhang Wei do you believe healing and killing are truly opposite paths?"
He froze. The question struck deeper than he expected. Memories flashed — the dying soldiers, the plague victims, the weight of decisions he'd made. "I used to think so," he said quietly. "But now… I think they share the same root. Both require knowledge of where life begins and where it ends."
Lady Cang Lian's expression softened into something almost sorrowful."That answer," she murmured, "is one I've not heard in years."
A pause, then she added, "The world praises healers who never kill but forgets that without them, killers would never be stopped. You understand this. That is rare."
Zhang Wei felt his chest tighten. For the first time since entering the Cang estate, he didn't feel judged , only seen.
Before he could respond, she stepped closer, her voice turning brisk again."One last test, if you'll indulge me. I want to see your knowledge in action."
She motioned to a side door. A servant brought in a wounded guard — the man's arm swollen black, veins pulsing unnaturally. The scent of metallic rot filled the air.
"He was bitten by a spirit beast yesterday," she explained. "The venom is spreading, and none of our disciples dared attempt treatment."
Zhang Wei frowned, kneeling to examine the wound.The pattern of the corruption — it spiraled inward rather than out. He recognized it instantly. "Serpent Flame Venom but mixed with an alchemical stimulant."
"Correct," she said, impressed. "Can you cure it?"
Zhang Wei's hands hovered over the man's arm. "Not completely. But I can stop its spread — if I can suppress the Qi reaction."
Lady Cang Lian folded her arms. "Do it."
He closed his eyes, focusing his spiritual energy. The jade pendant at his chest pulsed faintly — guiding him, whispering instructions beyond conscious thought. Threads of green light seeped from his fingertips as he pressed certain meridian points. The venom's black veins slowly dulled to gray.
After several tense breaths, the swelling receded, and the guard gasped in relief.
Zhang Wei exhaled. "It's done. But he must rest three days , no Qi circulation."
Cang Lian's gaze lingered on his glowing hands. "That light… is not ordinary Qi."
Zhang Wei withdrew his hand quickly. "It's a minor channeling technique."
"Minor?" she said softly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was Divine Pulse Energy — a technique lost even to our ancestors."
He didn't answer. She didn't press further.
Instead, she smiled faintly. "You've passed, Zhang Wei. I wanted to see if your reputation among the servants was deserved. It seems I underestimated you."
He blinked. "Reputation?"
She chuckled lightly. "Word spreads fast in this manor. A mysterious outer guard who heals wounds faster than the Alchemy Hall's apprentices — and refuses payment."
Zhang Wei's ears burned slightly. "I just… do what a healer must do."
Cang Lian's smile faded into quiet contemplation. "Perhaps fate sent you here for more than labor, Zhang Wei."
Then, turning toward the lake, she whispered — almost to herself — "If healing and killing are truly two sides of one path… perhaps the Cang Family has lost sight of both."
Her tone carried grief — not just for the clan, but for something deeper.
Meanwhile, across the estate, Han Yu and Pan Qiang had donned servant disguises once more, sneaking through the warehouse district by the moonlight. Crates were stacked like towers, each marked with red wax seals. The sigils bore the Cang crest — but underneath, barely visible, was another marking burned into the wood: a black lotus.
Han Yu's brows furrowed. "Black lotus… Hei'an's merchant guild symbol."
Pan Qiang crouched and pried open one crate. Inside were dozens of glass tubes filled with scarlet liquid — glowing faintly. "What the hell is this?" he whispered.
Han Yu sniffed one carefully. "Blood Fortification Elixirs," he muttered grimly. "Illegal. Consuming them multiplies Qi flow — at the cost of blood vitality. The Hei'an army used them in their war beasts."
Pan Qiang cursed under his breath. "So it's true. The Cang are supplying them."
"Not all Cang," Han Yu said quietly, remembering Zhang Wei's warning. "We need proof — who's sending them out, who's signing the papers."
They moved deeper into the storage tunnels beneath the alchemy hall. The air grew colder, the light dimmer. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the walls — sealing scripts used to hide energy signatures.
At the end of the corridor stood a door guarded by two disciples in dark armor, their badges unmarked — neither inner nor outer sect.
Pan Qiang leaned close. "Those aren't regular guards."
Han Yu nodded. "Cang De's men, most likely."
They hid behind a column as the guards changed shifts. Pan Qiang slipped forward, silent as a cat, planting a small mirror talisman near the doorframe — a recording charm that would copy any signatures used nearby.
Han Yu whispered, "You're getting better at this."
Pan Qiang smirked faintly. "I learn from the best paranoid bastard I know."
But his grin faded when footsteps echoed down the tunnel — heavy, deliberate, familiar.
The guards straightened as Elder Shen , the Alchemy Hall master, approached carrying a scroll sealed with both red and black wax.
Han Yu and Pan Qiang exchanged a look. Elder Shen was part of the Patriarch's trusted circle… or so they thought.
Elder Shen whispered to the guards, "Ensure this shipment reaches the east gate by dawn. Tell no one — not even Cang De."
Han Yu's eyes widened. "Wait. He's not working with Cang De?"
Pan Qiang frowned. "Then who's he hiding it from?"
They waited until Shen left, then crept forward. The mirror talisman glowed faintly — capturing fragments of the conversation. Han Yu stored it in a pouch.
"Something's off," Han Yu muttered. "If elder Shen's not aligned with Cang De, there's another faction here. One that's manipulating both sides."
"Meaning we're not spying on traitors anymore," Pan Qiang said grimly. "We're spying on a internal strife inside the clan."
Later that night, Zhang Wei stood at the lakeside again, lost in thought.The moon reflected across the still water like a mirror, but his reflection looked… older. He touched his chest where the jade pendant rested — faintly warm.
Lady Cang Lian's words replayed in his head.Do you believe healing and killing are opposite paths?
He clenched his fists. "How can they not be?" he whispered to the water. "If I keep choosing to heal while others kill, how long before I fail them again?"
A familiar voice came from behind. "You're thinking too loud again."
Han Yu stepped out from the shadows, his usual calm expression now hardened. Pan Qiang followed, carrying a scroll.
Zhang Wei turned. "Did you find anything?"
Han Yu nodded grimly. "Blood Fortification Elixirs. Shipments leaving the east gate every dawn. Sealed with both Hei'an and Cang markings — but there's more."
He handed the scroll to Zhang Wei. "The signatures don't belong to Cang De… they belong to Elder Shen ."
Zhang Wei's eyes narrowed. "Elder Shen ? The Alchemy Hall master?"
"Yeah," Pan Qiang said. "Either he's playing both sides — or someone's forging his seal."
Han Yu looked at the lake. "Whatever the truth, we're running out of safe ground. If the Patriarch finds out we've been sneaking into restricted areas, we're done."
Zhang Wei closed his eyes. "Then we do what healers do — we find the root of the disease before it spreads."
Pan Qiang sighed. "And if the root's the heart of the Cang family itself?"
Zhang Wei looked toward the glowing manor lights. "Then we cut carefully."
As dawn approached, a faint mist rolled over the estate. Disciples hurried to training, unaware of the storm beneath their feet.
Zhang Wei stood atop the hill overlooking the manor. From here, he could see both beauty and rot — the glittering pavilions and the shadowed alleys where forbidden elixirs were smuggled.
He felt the jade pendant vibrate softly, whispering — not in words, but in intent.The wound festers within.
Below, Lady Cang Lian walked through the courtyard, instructing disciples with calm grace. Their eyes met briefly across the distance. For a heartbeat, it was as if she saw everything — the lies, the pain, the storm to come.
Then she turned away.
Han Yu and Pan Qiang joined him at the ridge."So," Pan Qiang said, "what's the plan?"
Zhang Wei exhaled slowly. "We keep playing our roles. You two continue the investigation — trace where those shipments end up. I'll stay close to Lady Cang Lian and Elder Shen … maybe the jade can tell me what's hidden."
Han Yu nodded. "And if we're discovered?"
"Then we'll decide whether to heal this wound…" Zhang Wei murmured, his eyes narrowing toward the manor. "…or cut it open."