The hidden room was barely five chi wide (1 chi equals 1.09 feet), narrow and suffocating, like a secret never meant to be discovered.
Inside, three frogs huddled close together, their tiny chests rising and falling as they slept in a strange, eerie silence.
They were spiritual frogs—common-tier storing beasts, used by cultivators to hide and preserve their belongings.
Fu Yang's eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness as he studied them. He remembered their classifications from his past life. Like every spiritual beast, frogs were ranked into three tiers: common, rare, and epic. The power of their storage depended on their tier.
A common-tier frog could only store objects under fifty jin (1 jin equals 500 grams—so roughly twenty-five kilograms). A rare-tier frog was far stronger, able to hold anything under two hundred jin. As for the epic-tier… that was considered mythical. In all his life, Fu Yang had never seen one, and no cultivator he knew had claimed to.
(Author's Note: This knowledge is told from Fu Yang's perspective. Since he himself does not know the deeper truths about epic beasts, neither should the readers. His level in his past life was not high enough to access hidden truths.)
The strange thing about these frogs was that they could only swallow non-living or dead things. No cultivator knew where the swallowed items went, or what truly happened to them. But the most dangerous part—the part that most cultivators feared—was that a common-tier frog would only spit out its contents after being killed.
Fu Yang's lips curled faintly. He had already decided. These frogs were too valuable to remain here, hidden in Shin Tian's hands. He would take them, hide them far away, and use them when the time was right.
He crouched, carefully scooping the frogs into his pocket. Their bodies were soft and cool, their sleeping forms unaware of what had just happened. Once secured, Fu Yang pressed his hand against the dirt floor, brushing away his footprints with deliberate care. By the time he slid back into the tunnel, not a single trace of his intrusion remained.
Rush. Rush. Rush.
He crawled through the narrow darkness, clothes brushing against bamboo, until he reached the exit. Emerging, he dusted himself off, straightened his clothes, and shut the secret entrance. His movements were precise, practiced—leaving the room looking as though nothing had ever been disturbed.
Returning to the first floor, he unlocked the door to the room where Ryo's lifeless body still lay sprawled across the ground. The smell of fear clung to the corpse, metallic and raw. Fu Yang sat down beside it, his black eyes glinting.
"See? I still got them," he whispered in a low, mocking tone. "You should have told me the location of the secret room, and I would have given you a painless death. Mmm… but maybe you were telling the truth, and you really didn't know."
He closed his eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath. The faintest smile played at the corners of his lips.
---
Half an hour ago.
When Fu Yang stepped out of the warm bath, steam curling around him, he dressed in the clean clothes provided. His thin frame disappeared beneath the fabric, but the faint pallor of his skin and the sharpness of his features remained.
Waiting just outside was Ryo.
When Fu Yang emerged, the boy froze for a second. The child before him looked delicate, even charming—his skin pale and soft, his long black hair brushing the sides of his neck, and his face fine enough to almost be called beautiful. Relief flickered across Ryo's face, quickly followed by a grin.
"Oh my, you are really cute, hehehe," Ryo chuckled. "Now you should wait for Master, okay?"
(Hehehe… this poor boy will be used by Master, and I can rest for a while…)
He sighed lazily, as though passing on his burden. But when his gaze lingered on Fu Yang's face a moment longer, something changed.
Those eyes.
Fu Yang's irises were pure black, deep and endless, like a bottomless abyss that devoured all light. The sight made Ryo's chest tighten. His smile faltered, but he quickly looked away.
Strange. Unsettling. Different from the others.
But he didn't care enough to dwell on it. He turned away, waving his hand casually.
"You can rest in that room. There's a huge bed—you'll sleep well tonight, okay?"
Fu Yang didn't answer. He only smiled, a faint curl of his lips that made Ryo uneasy.
"Huff… is there something on my—"
Pow! Pow!
The sudden strikes landed before Ryo even realized what was happening. His eyes rolled back, and his body collapsed, unconscious.
Fu Yang dragged him with ease, despite his small frame, into another room. The boy's limp body thudded against the floor. Fu Yang bound him tightly with ropes, securing each knot so perfectly that even a grown cultivator would struggle. When Ryo was secured, Fu Yang left quietly, slipping into the kitchen.
He returned moments later with tools—sharp, gleaming under the faint lamplight.
---
"Ugh…"
Ryo stirred. His eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to shock as he realized he was bound. Panic hit him like a wave.
"Help! Help me! Anyone! Aaaa! Aaaa! Hmmm! Hmmm!" His voice broke as he screamed, the ropes biting into his wrists.
Then, his fear turned to anger. His face twisted.
"Where are you? Do you even know what you're doing? Untie me right now, or I'll tell Master!"
Silence.
"Hmph! You're messing with the wrong person!"
He struggled violently, but the ropes didn't budge. They were too tight, too perfect. Even if a man twice his size pulled against them, he would not escape.
The sound of footsteps came, light but deliberate. Fu Yang stepped into the dim light, a knife glinting faintly in his hand. His shadow stretched long across the wall, eerie and sharp.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper that slid coldly into Ryo's ear.
"Have you seen any frogs here?"
Ryo's eyes widened in terror. His throat tightened as he jerked against the ropes.
"Heuk! Aaaah! Wh-who—"
When his gaze lifted and he recognized the face, his fear deepened.
"You! You!" he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.
"You… you're insane! Why did you tie me up? Release me right now, or I'll—"
Fu Yang didn't answer. He only tilted his head slightly, lips curling in that same unreadable smile. Then he asked again, slowly, softly, as though the words were a lullaby:
"Have you seen any little frogs here?"