Han Fei rested for two hours, cultivating to recover from the transformation. His Immaculate Dao Body didn't "ask for" Qi; it took it. The air in the cave swirled toward him, entering through his pores with terrifying voracity.
In just one hour of deep meditation, he completely replenished his spiritual sea and felt absolute mental clarity.
But he needed to return to the sect. The "Morning Roll Call" would sound soon, and if he wasn't there, they'd confirm his desertion and send the Executioners to hunt him.
He looked at his reflection in a puddle in the cave: Jade skin, eyes like stars, noble aura. He looked like a Young Master from an Immortal Sect, not Han Fei the slave.
I need to hide my brilliance.
He approached the mud on the cave floor. It was humiliating, but necessary. He rubbed the damp earth over his Immaculate Jade Skin, covering the celestial glow under layers of dirt.
But the real problem was his Aura. It emitted the pressure of a divine genius.
He closed his eyes and ordered the Blood Pearl:
"Spew."
The Pearl released the Death Qi and Miasma it had absorbed in the dump. A grayish, sickly mist flooded his meridians, suffocating his golden light. He felt dirty, cold, and weak.
Perfect.
Now he looked like Han Fei: a miserable outer disciple who barely survived a fall and crawled back, possibly with brain damage or broken meridians.
He left the cave at dawn. The forest was calm. He slipped toward the sect's rear walls using his new speed, becoming a shadow that crossed the terrain without leaving a trace.
The Roll Call was ending when he arrived. The disciples were dispersing toward their tasks or dining halls.
Han Fei jumped the rear wall and blended into the crowd in the rotten wooden dormitory courtyard.
He approached the name report and outer disciples.
"Han Fei, present," he said in a tired voice.
The scribe yawned and marked his name on the bamboo list without even looking at him. He was "alive and present."
But as he walked away, he heard murmurs:
"Isn't that Han Fei? I thought the Deaconess had called him last night?"
Han Fei turned with a tired smile.
"Oh, well, friend. You see, the Deaconess said it's no longer necessary, that I was too poor in every sense and that she didn't even need to waste her pills or her people to do anything to me. It's a waste, so she let me go."
The lie flowed like dirty water, easy for the masses to swallow. The outer disciples nodded; for them, it made sense. Why would a Deaconess waste energy on an ant?
Han Fei walked toward Courtyard 7, his home. It was a rotten wooden shack he shared with three other "wastes."
He pushed the door. He expected solitude, but found a disaster.
His humble straw pallet had been torn apart. Someone had been searching for something.
Wang Hu, a corpulent Level 3 bully with yellow teeth, turned around. He had Han Fei's small rice bag (his food savings) in one hand.
He froze upon seeing him. Then, his small eyes scanned Han Fei's body covered in mud and "wounds."
"Han Fei... everyone said you were worm food," he said, dropping the bag. "If the Deaconess released you, it's because you no longer have anything of value... But you're standing. And if you're standing, you owe me this month's protection fee. And next month's."
He approached, cracking his knuckles. His aura was weak and pathetic compared to what Han Fei was now, but he didn't know it. He saw a victim.
"Hey... you smell strange. You don't smell of fear," he sniffed the air, frowning. "What are you hiding under that mud, Rat Han?"
He extended a hand to grab him by the robe collar.
Han Fei sighed with exasperation.
"Wang Hu... do you really think I have something? Think. I know the elder has intelligence. If Deaconess Li doesn't want me, and I'm not even good as fertilizer, how can I have anything? Tell me, under what world would Deaconess Li let me go if I had something valuable?" He paused. "Yes, I'll pay you in four months, how about that? At least let me recover after the Deaconess's contempt and all."
Wang Hu stopped dead. The mention of Deaconess Li acted like a bucket of cold water on his impulsiveness. In the Sect, everyone feared that woman.
The bully blinked, processing the logic with his limited brain.
"Four months... tsk. You have a sharp tongue for being trash, Han Fei," he crossed his arms. "Fine. Elder Brother Hu's logic is generous today. But words are wind. If in four months you don't have my spirit stones, I'll break your legs and sell you to the coal mine."
However, before leaving, his eyes settled on the small rice bag he'd thrown on the floor.
"But interest is paid in advance."
He bent down to take Han Fei's only food.
But something in Han Fei's voice stopped him. A calm. A certainty.
"In four months I'll pay you."
Wang Hu looked at him, saw his dull face, and finally snorted.
"Eat, pig. I need you to have blood in your veins when I cut them."
He left the room, slamming the door.
Han Fei was left alone. He removed his tattered robe. Beneath the layer of mud and filth, his Immaculate Jade skin glowed faintly in the gloom.
He was a Dragon hidden in a rats' den.
I have 3 months before Lin Xiao arrives. And in four months, this place won't exist because the protagonist will arrive. I won't be here either.
He smiled to himself as he reorganized his pile of straw.