Three breaths.
The first breath was for descent. Meng Ru's feet barely touched the slick gully wall. He used the Lesser Strength Gu not as a blunt instrument but as a precision tool, channeling its power into minuscule, controlled bursts that propelled him downwards with the silence of a falling leaf.
The second breath was for acquisition. He landed without a sound beside the nest—a simple hollow lined with dried moss and snake scales. The Jade Dragon Gu egg sat in the center, pulsing with a soft, internal light. It was warm to the touch, smooth as polished river stone. His fingers closed around it, his movements fluid and certain. There was no hesitation.
The third breath was for retreat. As his feet left the ground to begin his ascent, the Rank two Jade-Skinned Snake guard let out a furious hiss. The sound of the thrown rock had ceased, and its attention snapped back to its post. It saw a shadow detaching from the nest, an empty space where its precious charge once lay.
Rage, pure and primal, erupted from the beast. It lunged, its jade-like fangs aiming for Meng Ru's retreating form.
But Meng Ru had already accounted for this. He had not planned for a clean escape; that was a low-probability outcome. He had planned for a successful one.
Instead of scrambling directly up the rock face, he pushed off diagonally, using the snake's lunge to propel himself further along the gully wall. The snake's fangs missed by a hair's breadth, striking the rock with a shower of sparks.
'Its reaction time was little breaths slower than anticipated. Its focus was entirely on the nest, not the surrounding area. A flaw in its defensive protocol,' Meng Ru's mind processed, even as he scaled the wall.
He didn't need to look back to know the entire gully was now in chaos. The main pack, drawn by the guard's furious cry, would be abandoning the poisoned bait and rushing back. The diversion was over. Wang Lei and Li Chen were now on their own. Their survival was no longer a relevant variable in his equation.
He crested the edge of the gully and melted back into the thick, grey mist, the egg held securely within his robes. The furious hisses and cries of the enraged snake pack faded behind him, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the Primordial Origin.
When Meng Ru returned to the clearing, Elder Feng Yin was standing exactly where he had left him, a statue of stern patience.
There were no signs of a struggle on Meng Ru. His breathing was even, his robes were clean save for a smear of damp moss. He looked as if he had merely gone for a short walk. He approached and stopped at the same ten-step distance, his expression as placid as ever.
He reached into his robes and presented the Jade Dragon Gu egg.
Feng Yin's eyes, which had been watching the path with hawk-like intensity, now fixed on the prize. The egg was flawless. Its milky-white shell seemed to absorb the dim light, glowing with a soft vitality. He took it from Meng Ru, his fingers tracing its smooth surface. It was real.
"The others?" Feng Yin asked, his voice a low rumble.
"They served their purpose as diversions," Meng Ru replied, his tone implying that their story ended there. There was no concern, no curiosity for their fate.
Feng Yin did not press the matter. In the Eternal Sect, results were all that mattered. Failure was culled. It was the way of things.
He focused on the egg in his hand. It was a perfect specimen, but now came the true challenge. He tried to infuse a sliver of his primeval essence into it, but the shell was completely inert, repelling his energy like oil repelling water. It was a perfect defense, seamless and absolute.
This was the riddle. The trial wasn't just about retrieval; it was about demonstrating the potential to use the prize. Any brute could steal an egg. Only a true talent could unlock its secrets.
As he pondered this, the strange, silent vision from before echoed in his mind.
'…its shell is not its defense, but its prison…'
He looked from the impassive egg to the equally impassive face of the disciple who had retrieved it. Meng Ru's eyes were fixed on the egg, but there was a knowing stillness in his gaze, a complete lack of the frustration or curiosity an ordinary disciple would show. It was as if he already knew the answer.
"The shell is formidable," Feng Yin stated, testing the boy. "How would you propose we open it?"
Meng Ru was silent for a moment, his ancient eyes seeming to peer into the heart of the egg itself.
"You are asking the wrong question, Elder," he said, his voice quiet but clear. "A prison is not meant to be broken from the outside. It is meant to be opened from the inside."
Feng Yin's heart jolted. The boy's words were a perfect, chilling echo of the revelation he had just experienced. It was impossible. There was no way a Rank one outer disciple could possess such profound insight.
Unless… the silent vision hadn't been meant for him at all.
He stared at Meng Ru, a new, terrifying thought taking root. In that moment, he wondered: Was Meng Ru merely a rare genius—or something older, wearing a boy's skin?