Night in the Ji Clan had a particular kind of quiet.
Not the peaceful quiet of a village, where silence meant safety and sleep came easily.
This was the quiet of a beast with its eyes open.
Even when the lanterns dimmed and the courtyards shut their gates, the clan still breathed—guards changed shifts, patrolling footsteps crossed stone paths, and somewhere in the distance, a night bird cried once before falling silent again, as if it had remembered where it was.
Ji Wuyuan sat at the edge of his bed, sleeves neatly folded back, his posture relaxed enough to fool anyone who didn't know him. The candlelight cast warm shadows across the room, softening the sharpness of his features and making him look like what he was supposed to be:
A favored young master.
A child with a bright future.
A child who had never seen death.
He reached for the tea cup on the table, took a slow sip, and let the warmth settle in his stomach.
Then he spoke.
"Wei Yan."
The room didn't change.
No sound answered him at first.
But the air shifted, almost imperceptibly, like a curtain being moved by a hidden breeze.
Wei Yan stepped out from the corner where there should have been nothing but darkness. His robe was plain, his face calm, his eyes as still as a dead lake. He knelt with one knee touching the floor.
"Master."
Ji Wuyuan's gaze remained on the tea cup.
"Any movement?"
Wei Yan's voice was low and controlled.
"The spy returned."
Ji Wuyuan's lips curved faintly. "Chen Yu."
"Yes."
"What did he see?"
Wei Yan didn't hesitate.
"He saw Master return late at night. He saw two unfamiliar figures enter your courtyard. He heard Lu Chen crying in pain."
Ji Wuyuan's eyes lifted slightly, calm and thoughtful. "Good."
Wei Yan paused for a fraction of a breath. "Master intended for him to see it."
"Yes."
Ji Wuyuan placed the tea cup down with care. The porcelain clicked softly against the wood, a delicate sound that didn't match the weight of what was being discussed.
"If he reports to the Second Elder, the Second Elder will grow curious."
Wei Yan's gaze remained steady. "And if he grows curious, he will move."
Ji Wuyuan nodded once. "And if he moves, he reveals himself."
It was always like that.
The enemy who waited in silence was the most dangerous. The enemy who acted was easier to kill, because action left traces—meetings, letters, bribes, footsteps in the mud.
Ji Wuyuan didn't want peace.
Peace was what killed him in his last life.
He wanted motion.
He wanted ripples.
He wanted the snakes to slither out from under the rocks so he could see their scales.
Wei Yan's voice remained calm. "The Second Elder has already made contact again."
Ji Wuyuan's eyes narrowed slightly. "With Black Sand Pavilion?"
Wei Yan nodded. "A message was delivered to Luo Qishan at Golden Crane Inn. It was sent from a servant of the Second Elder's residence."
Ji Wuyuan leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee.
So Ji Mingxiu wasn't slowing down.
He was accelerating.
That meant he felt pressure.
And pressure meant fear.
Ji Wuyuan smiled faintly, almost amused.
A man who feared a child was a man who knew something.
"Do we intercept the message?" Ji Wuyuan asked.
Wei Yan replied immediately. "I can."
Ji Wuyuan shook his head. "No."
Wei Yan's eyes flickered slightly. He understood, but he still waited, like a blade waiting for a hand to guide it.
Ji Wuyuan's voice softened, the way it always did when he spoke like the perfect young master.
"Let it reach him."
Wei Yan lowered his head. "As Master commands."
Ji Wuyuan stood, walked to the window, and pushed it open slightly.
Cold air slipped in.
The moon hung high above the Ji Clan's rooftops, pale and distant. The clan looked beautiful at night—lanterns like fireflies, carved stone paths, quiet courtyards.
A fortress pretending to be a home.
Ji Wuyuan's eyes moved slowly across the dark skyline.
His father sat at the top of this fortress.
His father believed in honor.
His father believed in bloodline.
His father believed the Ji Clan's name was enough to protect them.
Ji Wuyuan had believed that too.
Once.
Then he died.
He closed his eyes briefly, and the memory came as easily as breathing.
Flames licking up walls.
Screams in the night.
His mother's blood staining the stones.
His father standing in the courtyard, robe torn, eyes burning with fury, fighting until his sword snapped.
And the protagonist—
The so-called "heaven-chosen hero"—
Standing in the smoke like a saint descending, his face calm, his blade clean.
As if slaughter was mercy.
Ji Wuyuan opened his eyes again.
The moonlight reflected in them, making them look gentle.
But the gentleness was a lie.
He turned away from the window and walked back to the table.
"Bring Shen Lian," he said.
Wei Yan vanished without a sound.
A moment later, there was a soft knock.
Ji Wuyuan's voice warmed instantly.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Shen Lian stepped inside, her dark armor hidden beneath a plain cloak, her veil still covering half her face. She moved like a disciplined soldier, each step measured, no wasted motion.
She knelt.
"Master."
Ji Wuyuan gestured lightly. "Sit."
Shen Lian rose and sat across from him, posture straight.
Ji Wuyuan watched her for a moment. He had summoned her only hours ago, but already her presence had changed the atmosphere of his world. Wei Yan was a killer, clean and direct. Shen Lian was something else—an organizer, a builder, the kind of person who could turn scattered knives into an army.
Ji Wuyuan spoke calmly.
"I want a structure."
Shen Lian's eyes sharpened. "A structure?"
"A hidden one."
Shen Lian nodded slowly. "Nightveil."
Ji Wuyuan's fingers tapped once on the table. "Yes."
Shen Lian's voice remained steady, but there was a faint weight in it now, like iron being set into place.
"Nightveil must have ranks," she said. "And roles. Without that, it becomes a group of killers. A group of killers is easy to destroy."
Ji Wuyuan smiled faintly. "Continue."
Shen Lian's gaze lowered slightly, as if she was already drawing the organization in her mind.
"Three branches," she said.
"First: The Blade Branch. Assassination, elimination, protection. Wei Yan belongs here."
Wei Yan had appeared at the edge of the room silently, standing like a shadow.
He didn't react.
He simply listened.
Shen Lian continued.
"Second: The Eye Branch. Intelligence, surveillance, infiltration, rumor control. Lu Chen can be trained for this."
Ji Wuyuan's eyes flickered.
Lu Chen had potential, but he was still raw.
Raw could be shaped.
Shen Lian's voice remained calm.
"Third: The Bone Branch. Logistics, recruitment, medicine, storage, hidden routes. Without Bone, Blade and Eye starve."
Ji Wuyuan leaned forward slightly. "Good."
Shen Lian's eyes met his.
"Master, do you want Nightveil to serve the Ji Clan… or to serve you?"
The question was sharp.
Dangerous.
A lesser person might hesitate.
Ji Wuyuan didn't.
He smiled warmly, like a child being asked a simple question.
"Me."
Shen Lian nodded once, satisfied.
"Then we must start with loyal seeds. Not servants. Not clan guards. People whose lives belong to you."
Ji Wuyuan's voice remained soft. "How many?"
Shen Lian thought for a moment. "To begin… five."
Ji Wuyuan nodded. "Find them."
Shen Lian's gaze sharpened. "Within the clan?"
Ji Wuyuan shook his head. "Not yet."
The clan was full of eyes.
The clan was full of factions.
If he recruited inside the clan too early, Ji Mingxiu would notice, and his father might notice too. His father wouldn't understand.
His father would try to "correct" him.
And correction was just another form of weakness.
Ji Wuyuan spoke calmly.
"Outside."
Shen Lian's eyes narrowed slightly. "In Azure Sun City?"
"Yes."
Shen Lian nodded. "Then we will need a cover."
Ji Wuyuan's smile deepened. "A cover is easy."
He turned his gaze to Wei Yan.
"Wei Yan."
"Yes, Master."
"Tomorrow, spread a rumor."
Wei Yan's eyes remained calm. "What rumor?"
Ji Wuyuan's voice was gentle, almost amused.
"That I'm sick."
Wei Yan paused for half a breath, then lowered his head. "Understood."
Shen Lian's eyes flickered with faint approval.
A sick young master wouldn't be watched as closely.
A sick young master could stay in his courtyard, "resting," while his people moved.
Ji Wuyuan's smile remained soft.
And while the clan pitied him…
Nightveil would be born.
Lu Chen woke up before dawn.
Not because he was disciplined.
Because pain didn't allow him to sleep.
His body felt like it had been soaked in fire, every bone aching, every muscle trembling.
He sat up slowly in the side room Shen Lian had placed him in, sweat clinging to his skin. His stomach growled painfully, but he didn't dare complain.
He had eaten yesterday.
That alone was a miracle.
He stared at his hands.
They looked the same.
Thin.
Dirty.
But when he clenched his fist, he felt something new.
Strength.
Not much.
But real.
A faint spiritual warmth moved through his veins, like a tiny flame that refused to die.
He remembered the merchant's laugh.
He remembered the cage.
He remembered the smell of blood.
Then he remembered the young master's eyes.
Calm.
Cold.
Certain.
Lu Chen swallowed hard.
He didn't know what kind of person Ji Wuyuan was.
But he knew one thing.
Following him meant living.
And living was all Lu Chen had ever wanted.
The door opened quietly.
Shen Lian stepped in.
Her presence made the room feel smaller.
Lu Chen stood instantly, stiff and alert.
Shen Lian's eyes swept over him.
"You survived."
Lu Chen nodded quickly. "Yes."
Shen Lian tossed him a cloth bundle.
Lu Chen caught it, startled.
Inside was food.
Dry meat.
Bread.
And a small bottle.
His eyes widened.
Shen Lian's voice was calm. "Eat."
Lu Chen didn't hesitate.
He ate like a starving animal, hands trembling as he shoved food into his mouth. He didn't care about manners. He didn't care about dignity.
He cared about strength.
When he finished, Shen Lian spoke again.
"Now kneel."
Lu Chen froze.
His stomach tightened.
Old fear crawled up his spine.
But he forced himself to kneel.
Shen Lian looked down at him.
"From today, you are part of Nightveil."
Lu Chen's eyes widened slightly. "Night… veil?"
Shen Lian nodded. "You will learn to watch. To listen. To hide. To survive."
Lu Chen swallowed hard.
"And if I fail?"
Shen Lian's voice remained calm.
"Then you will die."
Lu Chen's face paled.
But he didn't run.
He didn't beg.
He only nodded slowly.
"…Understood."
Shen Lian's eyes softened slightly—not with kindness, but with approval.
"Good."
By noon, the rumor had already spread.
Ji Wuyuan was sick.
Some said he had been injured in secret training.
Some said he had overused his strength.
Some said his body couldn't handle his own talent.
The clan's younger generation whispered excitedly, half-satisfied, half-disappointed. The elders frowned. The Patriarch visited once, stood outside Ji Wuyuan's room for a long time, then left without speaking.
Ji Mingxiu visited too.
Second Elder Ji Mingxiu arrived with a warm smile and a box of spirit medicine, his robe neat and his eyes kind.
He stood in the courtyard, hands behind his back, and spoke loudly enough for the servants to hear.
"Wuyuan, you must rest. Your body is precious to the clan."
Inside the room, Ji Wuyuan sat by the table, sipping tea calmly.
He didn't respond immediately.
He waited.
He let the Second Elder stand there, smiling like a loving uncle, while the servants watched and whispered.
Then he coughed softly.
A small cough.
Weak.
Perfect.
He spoke in a gentle voice.
"Thank you, Second Elder. You're always so kind."
Ji Mingxiu smiled wider. "Of course. We are family."
Family.
Ji Wuyuan almost laughed.
He wanted to ask the Second Elder what family meant when knives were drawn.
But he didn't.
Instead, he smiled.
"I will recover soon."
Ji Mingxiu nodded, eyes narrowing slightly.
"I hope so."
Then he left, his steps calm, his smile never fading.
The moment he was gone, Ji Wuyuan's expression cooled.
Wei Yan appeared beside him.
"Master," Wei Yan said quietly, "he is probing."
Ji Wuyuan nodded. "Yes."
Wei Yan's eyes sharpened. "He believes you are weakening."
Ji Wuyuan smiled faintly. "Let him believe it."
That night, Shen Lian returned.
Her cloak carried the smell of the city—dust, smoke, faint blood.
She knelt.
"Master. I found the first seed."
Ji Wuyuan's eyes lifted. "Who?"
Shen Lian's voice remained calm.
"A girl. Twelve years old. Sold by her family to repay debt. She has a rare constitution—her qi is naturally cold. If trained, she can become an assassin."
Ji Wuyuan's gaze remained steady.
"Bring her."
Shen Lian nodded.
"And another."
Ji Wuyuan leaned forward slightly. "Another?"
Shen Lian's eyes narrowed faintly.
"A boy. Fifteen. Former disciple of a small martial hall. His master was killed. He is seeking revenge. His talent is average, but his hatred is deep."
Ji Wuyuan's smile deepened.
Hatred was fuel.
Fuel burned hotter than talent.
"Bring him too."
Shen Lian bowed. "Yes."
Ji Wuyuan's fingers tapped lightly on the table.
Two seeds.
Lu Chen made three.
Wei Yan and Shen Lian were already pillars.
Nightveil was beginning to take shape.
And the Awakening Ceremony was approaching.
Ji Wuyuan looked toward the candle flame.
It danced softly, unaware of the storm being built around it.
His voice was quiet.
"Soon."
Shen Lian raised her head slightly.
"Master?"
Ji Wuyuan smiled faintly.
"When my talent awakens, the clan will celebrate."
His eyes darkened.
"But I will not awaken for them."
He stood slowly, small body straight, gaze steady.
"I will awaken for myself."
Wei Yan's aura shifted faintly, like a blade humming.
Shen Lian lowered her head.
Lu Chen, listening from outside, felt his heart tighten.
Because for the first time, he understood something.
This young master wasn't just cruel.
He wasn't just smart.
He was building something.
Something that would swallow the city.
And if Lu Chen followed closely enough…
He might survive inside its shadow.