Song Min slid forward without a word. Rat had seen her twice in the dorm, never heard her speak, and watched her pin a gourd to a target at fifty paces when no one was supposed to be watching.
Jin Tao's face rearranged into something like grace. "Good choices," he said. "I will assemble a parallel team to sweep the northern spur, Elder. We can cover more ground."
"You will stay on terrace duty," Zhen cut in. "Report to the armory. Inventory has gone strange."
Jin Tao swallowed whatever sound wanted to come out and bowed. If looks could cut, his eyes would have given Rat a new smile.
Ruo turned on his heel. "Min. Wei Yun. Rat. With me."
They left the hall at a jog. The bell had gone quiet. The mountain had not. In the armory row, racks of staves, spears, bows, and practice blades sat in neat ranks that had seen too many messy hands. The quartermaster was a woman with hair like steel wool and a ledger that glared. Ruo signed for three masks, a coil of rope, a small jar of smoke powder, and a single paper charm stamped with a character Rat did not recognize.
"For doors that refuse," Ruo said, tucking the charm into his sleeve. "Not for play."
Rat accepted a fresh wrap for his staff grip and tightened it to hide the tremble. Song Min selected a short bow and three cloth-wrapped bundles of reed shafts. She met Rat's eye once, brief as a blink.
"Do you miss on purpose," he asked.
"Yes," she said, and looked away.
Wei Yun secured his spear and nodded at Rat's thumb. "You are bleeding again."
"It looks good on me," Rat said.
They moved. The sky dimmed as cloud pushed in from the west. The terraces emptied until only pigeons owned them. They descended a side stair that cut into the mountain's flank and emerged at the first stand of pines beyond the outer wall.
Ruo set a pace that felt fair until it did not. Rat kept stride and counted breaths to keep his head honest. The Codex sat quiet as a sleeping cat, which meant it was awake.
[Ambient hostility: moderate. Resin scent increasing. Tracks probable.]
They cut toward the boundary stone by a different path. Song Min ranged a little ahead and to the right, eyes on the ground, breeze touching her face like a hand that meant well. Wei Yun kept to the center with spear in a ready sling. Rat stayed slightly left, staff low, mind trying not to replay the stag's calm look.
Near the old windfall trap, Song Min raised a hand. She crouched, touched a print, and held up two fingers.
"Two sets," she whispered. "Fresh. Boots from earlier. North, then back. Heavy here."
Ruo walked a widening spiral until he found a small scrape on a root, half-hidden by moss. Pine resin darkened the groove. He looked uphill into the trees and listened.
"There," he said. "Hear that."
Rat listened. Nothing. Then a faint drip. Not water. Sap.
"Cache robber is close," Ruo said. "They like resin because it smears scent and mutes leather. They will set watchers."
"Or walk straight to the fence and pretend they are trees," Rat said.
"Do not insult trees," Ruo answered.
They ghosted uphill, trading feet for patience. The canopy grew thicker and made the afternoon shorter. Twenty paces on, Song Min froze so hard Rat almost ran into her. She lifted a finger and pointed with her chin.
A boy sat against a fir trunk with his eyes closed. Rooted Stone colors. Counting boy. His sleeve was bandaged where the stag had said hello. His head tilted like he was dozing, which meant he was not. Two clever loops of resin-coated line hid under leaves on either side of him, mouths of snares waiting for clumsy.
Ruo signaled. Min slid left, Wei Yun right. Rat moved straight and slow until he could see the lacquer tube tucked inside the boy's belt sash, the cap peeking like a tongue.
Rat rested the staff across his knees and tugged a pebble from the dirt. He flipped it in the air twice, then sent it across the clearing. It landed on the far resin line and stuck with a damp sound. The line sagged a finger-width. The boy's eyes opened. Not all the way. Enough to show that he hated dozing.
Min's arrow whispered and pinned the resin line to the dirt with a reed shaft that somehow did not break. Wei Yun stepped on the other line quietly and held it the way you hold a snake you do not want to wake. Rat walked into the circle like a man who had a good excuse.
"You have my tube," Rat said.
The boy blinked with a charming lack of shame. "Your tube."
"Open Sky's then," Rat allowed. "Which I am renting."
The boy relaxed back against the tree. "Rooted Stone holds border caches to encourage negotiation."
"Is that what you call it," Rat said. "I call it stealing and then lying about it."
The boy's eyes flicked to the arrow in his line and the foot on the other. "You prepared well for an honest conversation."
"Honesty is expensive," Rat said. "We brought coupons."
Ruo stepped into view. "Return the tube."
"Or," the boy said, "we discuss the fee."
Song Min shifted her aim a hair. The new line would pierce the tube where it would not leak. Rat admired the geometry.
The boy saw that too. He sighed like he was tired of singing for a crowd that kept leaving. "You are no fun."
"Correct," Ruo said.
The boy unhooked the lacquer tube and tossed it to Rat with a very calculated casual flick. Rat caught it and did not open it. The cap bore the Sky character in worn silver leaf.
"Here is the fee," Rat said. He bent and untied the thread holding one snare loop. He wrapped it around the other loop so that the next set would trap its friend. He stepped back. "Lesson credit. Do not set lazy traps on ground that breathes."
The boy's mouth quirked. "You are the broom."
"Still sweeping," Rat said.
They backed away in a three-man peel. Song Min's arrow stayed notched. The boy did not move to follow. He had learned that sometimes walking after a problem made more of it.
When they were twenty paces into the trees, the Codex shivered cold across Rat's mind.
[Warning: Secondary presence. Elevated threat. Direction: behind.]
He did not think. He spun the staff low and clipped something that had decided to be a shadow. The impact rattled up his arms. A shape detached from a trunk and darted, gray cloth folding around a narrow frame. Not Rooted colors. Not Open Sky.
A masked figure flowed between them toward the path downhill. Song Min's arrow hissed and nicked a sleeve. The figure did not cry out. It moved like someone who had promised not to be here.
"Run," Ruo snapped.
They ran. Rat's lungs burned in a way that felt honest. They burst back into the clearing where the boy had sat. He was gone. Only the resin lines remained, neatly coiled. The masked figure was already at the far edge, light and silent. It carried nothing Rat could see, which meant it carried everything that mattered.
"Interloper," Wei Yun grunted.
"Or a friend we will be told we imagined," Rat said.
They chased anyway. The figure moved toward the outer fence. Five heartbeats later, it reached a narrow slice between two pines where the ground dipped and the rocks made a polite staircase. Rat saw it plant a foot on the third step and then not be there. No flash. No trick smoke. Just not.
Ruo skidded to a stop so hard leaf litter sprayed. He stared at the empty air and the stone that had been stepped on last.
"Charm-step," he said. "Very expensive. Very not ours."
"Rooted," Wei Yun asked.
Ruo's face said this was worse. "No."
They stood there with breath turning white now that the light had thinned. Rat tightened his grip on the tube until his knuckles ached. He felt the Codex waiting like a clerk ready to stamp a form.
"Back," Ruo said. "We return the tube. We report the interloper. We pretend to be surprised."
Rat laughed once, short and tired. "I am very good at pretending."
They retraced. At the boundary stone, the wind turned and brought the smell of wet bark. Rat looked up the slope and saw, just for a heartbeat, antlers among the branches. Not moving. Watching. Then gone.
"Do not tell me you saw that," Wei Yun said.
"Good," Rat answered. "You did not either."
They made the bridge as the first flakes of old snow drifted out of a sky that had decided to be cruel again. Rat held the tube like a bird. He wanted to open it. He wanted to throw it in the stream. He did neither.
The hall was lit when they entered. Instructor Zhen sat with the gray-robed elder at a small table while a steward ground ink. Rat placed the tube on the wood with both hands.
"Recovered," Ruo said.
The elder nodded. "Good."
"We were shadowed," Ruo added. "A masked figure used a charm-step at the outer pines. Not Rooted Stone."
Zhen's fingers paused on the inkstone. Only a fraction. "Describe."
"Small," Wei Yun said. "Light. Preferred to be wind."
Rat rubbed his thumb and considered lying. He chose humor that was almost truth. "Moved like they did not owe the ground anything."
The elder's eyes were old. They stayed old. "I see."
Jin Tao waited near the door with a scroll he pretended to read. His eyes kept finding Rat. He wanted the version where Rooted Stone had been beaten with fists and insults. He did not get it.
"Dismissed," Zhen said. "Except you, Rat."
Wei Yun and Song Min bowed and left with Ruo. Rat stayed. The hall felt larger without people. The mountain breathed in the beams.
Zhen tapped the tube once. "You did not open it."
"I like being alive," Rat said.
"Good habit," the elder murmured.
Zhen nodded to the steward, who took the tube away without breaking its seal. "You will spar at dawn with the staff master," she said to Rat. "Your angles are honest. Your patience is dishonest. We will fix both."
"Finally," Rat said. "A compliment that hurts."
The elder set his hands in his sleeves and studied Rat the way a fisherman studies a river he had known as a child. "The mountain notices you," he said quietly. "You would do well to notice back without trying to put a leash on it."
Rat met his gaze. "I am more of a net person."
"Net is a leash with ambitions," the elder said, and stood. He left without waiting for argument.
Zhen watched Rat for another beat. "Get food. Sleep two hours. Then balcony duty. You will watch the lower path. If Rooted Stone sends a message, we will read it before they do."
Rat bowed. He turned to go. At the threshold, the Codex nudged him with icy fingers.
[Codex of Strands of Fate - Status Update]
Vitality: 5
Qi Sense: 5
Comprehension: 3
Fate Entanglement: 19
Realm: Foundation Establishment
Skill Progress: Horizon Flow Strike, rapid-set variant seeded
Passive Progress: Reversal Instinct, timing window widened under repeated exchange
Appendix: Stone Circle Etiquette
Winning without breaking teeth reduces future taxes.
Rat smiled. "I prefer discounts."
He stepped out onto the balcony. Snow dusted the rail. Far below, the forest pressed up against the mountain like a dark sea. A single flute note drifted from the pines, then shivered into silence. He leaned forward, letting the cold bite. The copper coin warmed once by itself, as if it had something to say and did not like saying it.
Out in the dark, a pair of calm eyes opened and closed as if in agreement.
The wind turned. The mountain listened.