The four slowly lifted themselves from their bows, careful not to appear abrupt in the presence of the hidden master. When their eyes rose, they found him already seated in his rocking chair, swaying gently, as though nothing in the world could disturb his ease.
Jing Hua hesitated. Her lips pressed together, the words heavy on her tongue, for she feared to break the master's serenity. But necessity gave her courage. She stepped forward and bowed once more.
"Honored master," she said, her voice respectful yet cautious, "If it's fine for you, when the rescue squade arrive to escort us back, we shall return here and bring with us the delicacies you seek. We promise to fulfill our word."
Her companions stood silently behind her, tense as bowstrings. None dared to speak out of turn.
Within, Zhang Wei's eyes flickered.
So they want to leave and come back later to pay, hm?
He mulled it over. On the surface, he did not mind waiting. After all, patience was a pillar of his newly claimed hidden master image. And yet, deep within, he could not deny the hunger gnawing at him. Still, to demand food immediately would break his carefully crafted persona. That would make him look desperate, and a true recluse must never appear desperate.
Fine then. Let them go. If they honor their word, I feast. If they don't… then I'll hold a grudge for ten thousand years, right down to their sect's great great great who knows grandchildren and desciples. Petty? Maybe. But a master's pride is absolute.
With a lazy flick of his hand, Zhang Wei gestured as though dismissing dust from his sleeve. His voice followed, deep and measured, laced with the faint tremor of authority.
"It matters not. I can wait. Yet remember this—promises are weights upon the soul. To break them is to invite retribution. Speak lightly if you must, but never make a vow you will not keep."
The words carried no direct threat, yet the subtle undercurrent was enough to send shivers down their spines.
Jing Hua's stern face softened with relief. She bowed deeply once more, gratitude brimming in her tone. "This disciple thanks the master for his understanding."
The trio echoed her words, bowing in unison. Their voices rang with respect, though fear still lingered within.
Zhang Wei, on the outside, sat unmoved. Yet within, every nerve of his body jolted with satisfaction. Yes. Yes! Bow deeper, tremble more. Revere me as the hidden master I am destined to be.
He calmed himself with effort, keeping his outward mask intact. But then, another thought crept into his mind—one that had been nagging since the system whispered its secrets earlier.
The system said anything within this courtyard, living or otherwise, is bound to my will. If I can command death, then… can I not command life?
His eyes drifted to the short-haired woman before him. Jing Hua's body bore wounds from head to toe, bloodied scars seeping through her torn robes. Some cuts revealed too much, an image Zhang Wei forcibly brushed aside lest it betray his composure.
If I heal her, it will prove my mastery beyond doubt. Their awe will soar to the great worlds, and the delicacies they bring will be offered in reverence, not obligation.
Resolving himself, Zhang Wei focused his vision. He imagined her wounds mending, flesh knitting, blood retreating. Just as he had made the courtyard tremble earlier with nothing but intent, he now willed her body to obey his thought.
The cold wind that had haunted the courtyard all evening shifted. The air warmed to a gentle embrace. A current of green light gathered from nowhere, swirling into fine motes of dust. Slowly, they coalesced around Jing Hua, circling her like a luminous whirlwind.
She stiffened, eyes wide. "W-what is this…?"
Ling Yue gasped, her hand flying to her lips. "Is it an attack?!"
The young miss clutched her chest, her face pale, heart sinking into dread.
Jian Feng's jaw clenched tight. So my guess was right. This hidden master only toys with his prey. All my hopes from before were illusions.
The lights grew brighter, wrapping Jing Hua in a verdant glow as the others looked on in horror, awe, and doubt.
But in the very next second, their fear dissolved into disbelief. The gashes that had marred Jing Hua's body began to close before their eyes, as though an invisible hand stitched her flesh back together. The jagged lines smoothed into pale scars, then faded entirely, leaving only the remnants of blood that stained her torn robes.
Ling Yue's voice trembled. "What… what is this?"
Jian Feng's eyes widened, his composure shattering. "Impossible… it's—what?"
The young miss, hands pressed against her chest, stared with wide, gleaming eyes. "She's… healing. She's truly healing." Her voice carried awe, tinged with wonder, as though she had witnessed a miracle out of legend.
Around Jing Hua, the swirling motes of green dust spun gently before dispersing into the night air. The courtyard, which had seemed a stage for divine wrath, now glowed with serenity. Her wounds had vanished, yet the dried blood still clung to her skin, mingled with sweat, dirt, and the torn threads of her clothing. New streaks of fresh blood lingered faintly where the wounds had been, the aftertaste of a body forced to mend itself in an instant.
Jing Hua staggered slightly, her knees nearly giving way. Beads of sweat traced her forehead as she steadied herself. This feeling… Her thoughts raced. Every fiber of my body, every tendon, every scarred tissue moved. Shifted and healed. I felt it all. A tingling, a sharp sting, a wave of pain like lightning through my veins. And then… silence. As if nothing had ever happened.
She touched her arm, then her ribs, her breath uneven.
The trio rushed toward her.
"Jing Hua, how do you feel?" Ling Yue's hands hovered near her shoulders, careful not to touch.
"Your wounds–what happened? What do you sense in your body right now?" Jian Feng's voice cracked, his usual calm stripped away by astonishment.
The young miss beamed, her earlier dread replaced with pure delight. "It's a miracle! you're healed!"
Their questions poured out one after another, voices overlapping, eyes searching her for answers. Jing Hua opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Words failed her. How could she explain the indescribable?
And then, cutting through their clamor, came the measured voice of the hidden master.
"It grows late," Zhang Wei said from his chair, his tone calm and absolute. "Do not waste time chasing the riddle of the known, when the answer stands before you."
The sound silenced them instantly. They turned back toward him, reverence settling once more like chains around their shoulders.
The young miss was the first to react. She dropped into a graceful bow, her voice thick with emotion. "This disciple offers her deepest thanks to the master for granting life and healing to my companion."
Ling Yue and Jian Feng followed in unison, bowing low. "We thank the master for his boundless grace."
Finally, Jing Hua gathered herself, her legs trembling as she lowered into a bow of her own. "This unworthy one thanks the master for mercy beyond measure."
Zhang Wei exhaled through his nose, flicking his hand as if swatting away a fly. His expression was carved from indifference, though inside he savored every syllable of their gratitude.
"It is nothing," he said, voice deep but casual. "Rest now. Stay as long as you will."
His hand drifted toward the house behind him, pointing without flourish. "You may dwell in the main residence. Do not expect luxury. I have little taste for furniture—it clutters the mind and distracts the heart. You will find the space bare. But worry not. The floor beneath my roof shall cradle you as well as any bed."
The reasoning, of course, was nonsense. In truth, Zhang Wei lacked even a stool to his name. But he veiled his poverty in wisdom, certain that his excuse sounded suitably profound.
The trio exchanged glances before slowly turning to their young miss, gauging her reaction. To them, sleeping on the ground was hardly foreign, yet it was her comfort that mattered.
The young miss felt their stares upon her. A blush crept over her cheeks, and she pouted faintly, half embarrassed, half indignant. "I am not a child. Do you think me so soft? I have joined my father and grandfather on hunting trips before. Sleeping on the earth is hardly a hardship for me."
Her declaration silenced their concerns. Ling Yue and Jian Feng both dipped their heads, reassured. Jing Hua's lips curved faintly, then she turned back toward the master, her voice respectful. "Then everything will be fine, Master. We shall abide as you have allowed."
From his rocking chair, Zhang Wei gestured once more with an air of dismissal. "Then what do you linger for? Go. Youths such as you should treasure rest, lest your bones weaken before their time."
The four bowed in unison, their voices blending into one.
"We thank the master once more for taking us in."
The courtyard fell silent again, save for the whisper of autumn leaves.