The stuck Wang cart became the talk of the district for a day, a satisfyingly public symbol of their faltering dominance. But Lin Xiao knew better than to bask in small victories. The Wangs were wounded, not dead, and a wounded beast was at its most dangerous. The economic pressure Su Ling had documented was proof they were adapting, shifting from brute force to a war of attrition.
He needed to disrupt their new strategy. He needed to hit their command and control, to make them doubt their own information. The persistent scrying spell, still clinging to him like a spiritual leech, presented the perfect opportunity. It was time to stop feeding it harmless half-truths and start weaponizing it.
"System," he thought, settling into his room. "The 'Karmic Echo Trap.' I want to create a narrative. A false, but completely believable, crisis within the Lin family."
[Acknowledged. Host may dictate the parameters of the false sensory loop. The trap will generate corresponding auditory and spiritual feedback for the surveillance target.]
Xiao leaned back, steepling his fingers. What would the Wangs most want to hear? What would make them overextend, make a fatal mistake?
He began to weave a story of despair.
Over the next two days, the scrying spell would pick up "overheard" conversations. Lin Zhan, voice trembling with fake despair, lamenting that their new ore vein from Red Cliff was "drying up faster than anticipated." Su Ling, in a staged argument with Xiao, would sharply criticize his "gambling of their last spirit stones" on Ming Yue's "overpriced toys." The climax would be Xiao himself, in the quiet of his room, muttering in feigned panic about a "looming deadline" with Merchant Gao and the "catastrophic penalties" for failure.
It was a performance, and Xiao was the director, playwright, and lead actor. The comedy was in the sheer theatricality of it. He found himself having to actually act out the scenes when he was alone, just to sell the performance to the unseen listener. At one point, he had to fake a coughing fit of "stress-induced illness," which was so over-the-top he almost made himself laugh.
The System, ever the deadpan straight man, observed his performance.
[Note: Host's vocal modulation for 'despair' registers at 7.8 out of 10 on the dramatic scale. Consider toning down the tremolo for increased verisimilitude.]
Quiet, you, he thought back. I'm setting the stage.
The bait was taken faster than he expected. On the third day, Su Ling burst into his study, her eyes alight with news.
"The Wangs are making a move," she said, a predatory grin on her face. "A big one. They're liquidating assets—selling off two of their smaller storehouses and a fleet of transport wagons. Our contacts say they're gathering a huge amount of capital, all in liquid spirit stones."
Xiao's own smile was cold and sharp. "They're preparing to buy. They think we're about to default to Merchant Gao. They want to be there with a chest of spirit stones to swoop in and take our contract, reclaiming their dominance in one fell swoop."
"It's a huge risk for them," Su Ling analyzed, pacing. "Liquidating those assets weakens their long-term stability. They're betting everything on this."
"Which is exactly what we want," Xiao said. "They're reacting to a ghost, a story we told them. Now, let's give them a real crisis to focus on."
His next target was the heart of their remaining strength: their logistics. The Wangs still controlled the majority of the heavy freight moving in and out of the city. If their carts couldn't roll, their entire commercial empire would seize up.
This required a lighter, more subtle touch than the mine sabotage. He couldn't use rats again; they'd be watching for that. He needed something even more ubiquitous, something no one would suspect.
"System," he commanded. "I need to purchase a swarm. Something small, numerous, and with a taste for leather and dried glue."
[Scanning…]
[Fauna: 'Spirit-Gnawing Beetles' (Swarm). A common, low-level pest insect attracted to the residual spiritual energy in treated leather and organic adhesives. A directed swarm can incapacitate harnesses, reins, and wagon wheel bindings without permanent damage. Cost: 100 KP for a one-time directed infestation.]
It was perfect. Not destruction, just… profound inconvenience.
That night, a cloud of tiny, shimmering beetles, guided by the System's invisible hand, descended upon the Wang Cartel's main freight yard. They didn't eat the wood or the metal. They targeted the precisely cut leather harnesses, the glued joints of the wagons, the sinew bindings.
The next morning, chaos erupted.
Wagons meant to depart instead sat idle as drivers discovered harnesses that fell apart in their hands. Wheels wobbled precariously as glue joints failed. It wasn't a catastrophic failure, but a thousand tiny, maddening ones. The freight yard descended into a comedy of errors, with enraged drivers and panicked overseers tripping over each other.
The news reached Xiao via a deeply amused Su Ling. "You should see it," she laughed, shaking her head. "It's like a festival of incompetence. They can't move anything. And the best part? There's no one to blame! It's just a 'unfortunate pest infestation.'"
The final piece of his plan fell into place later that afternoon. Ming Yue arrived for her daily check on the estate's arrays, but she wasn't alone. A young woman trailed behind her, dressed in the practical, travel-stained robes of a messenger. She had a fierce, wary look in her eyes, like a hunted animal.
"This is Bai Lian," Ming Yue introduced, her tone neutral. "She was assaulted by Wang thugs on the road for refusing to hand over a message she was carrying for a rival merchant. My apprentices intervened. She has information. I thought it might be… relevant."
Bai Lian stepped forward, her chin held high despite the bruise coloring her cheek. "They're getting desperate," she said, her voice rough. "They're not just pressuring suppliers anymore. They're intercepting mail, threatening couriers. They're trying to cut the city off from anyone who might do business with you." She looked directly at Xiao. "They're scared of you."
Another thread. Another person drawn into his orbit by the Wangs' own brutality. Bai Lian wasn't a cultivator or a merchant. She was a survivor, with a network of contacts on the roads and in the underbelly of the city—a source of information he desperately needed.
"Thank you," Xiao said, and he meant it. "You have a place here, if you want it. Your skills are valuable."
A look of profound relief washed over her face, the fierce mask slipping for just a moment.
As evening fell, Xiao stood on a balcony, looking out over the city. Su Ling was inside, cross-referencing Bai Lian's information with their ledgers. Ming Yue was in the garden, subtly adjusting a resonance crystal. Bai Lian was in the kitchen, being fed by a grateful Lin Zhan.
He hadn't conquered anything with force. He had built a web. A strategist, an array master, and now a spy. Each a master of their own domain, drawn together by a common enemy and a leader who valued their minds.
The System screen glowed softly.
[Karmic Assessment: Host's influence network has expanded. 'The Azure Phoenix Faction' is now a recognized entity within the local karmic weave. Continue strengthening these bonds.]
A faction. He had a faction.
He looked toward the Wang compound, a dark silhouette against the twilight. They were marshaling their resources, preparing for a killing blow against an enemy that didn't exist.
They were fighting a ghost. And Lin Xiao was the ghost in their machine, quietly pulling out their wires, one by one. The real strike was coming, and they wouldn't see it until it was far, far too late.