Zhou Kai didn’t miss the chance to twist the knife. He turned toward Chen Xingze—whose face had curdled into the dark, soot-stained purple of a burnt pot—and clasped his hands with exaggerated, dripping sincerity.

“I must extend my deepest thanks to the Sixth Elder! The very moment I cried out for help, there you were, arriving promptly with your men! If not for your daunting presence, those enemies lurking in the shadows might never have retreated. You truly are the future pillar of the Chen Family—swift to act and wholeheartedly devoted to the public good!”

“Pfft—”

Among the onlookers, a few struggled to swallow their laughter, their shoulders shaking. Zhou Kai wasn’t just thanking him; he was roasting Chen Xingze over a slow-burning fire. On the surface, it was gratitude; underneath, the subtext screamed: Look at this! The second I’m in trouble, you ‘just happen’ to be standing there with a squad? If that doesn’t smell fishy, nothing does.

Chen Xingze trembled, his finger leveled at Zhou Kai, his lips quivering with a rage so absolute he couldn’t find the words to spit out.

“Enough! This clamor and commotion—what kind of spectacle have we become?” An authoritative voice cut through the air like a cold blade.

The crowd instinctively split, carving a path for Patriarch Chen Rulong. He stepped forward, his expression an unreadable mask of calm. His gaze swept over the mangled corpses on the dirt before shifting to Zhou Kai and the fuming Xingze. A flash of realization crossed his eyes; he was silently cursing Chen Xingze for his blatant stupidity.

“Guest Elder Zhou has been rattled,” Chen Rulong said, his voice a calculated balm to soothe the tension. Then, he turned a reproachful eye on his son. “Xingze! You must get to the bottom of this outrage and provide Guest Elder Zhou with a proper explanation.”

Chen Xingze felt a surge of bile rise in his throat. He wanted to defend himself, but he knew that opening his mouth now would only invite disaster. What was there to explain? Admit he sent the assassins? That was a death sentence. Explain he just wanted to “test” and humiliate the man? That would only make him look like a bumbling incompetent.

He swallowed his fury like a mouthful of shattered teeth, forced to squeeze a single word through his grit jaw: “Yes.”

Humiliating. Utterly humiliating.

Zhou Kai knew exactly when to pivot. He bowed deeply to Chen Rulong. “The Patriarch sees all with perfect clarity. This subordinate is endlessly grateful!”

Then, he shifted his tone, his face morphing into a mask of lingering terror. “However, after this brush with death, I find myself sleepless, jumpy at shadows. I fear these petty villains might return to finish what they started. Furthermore, refining the Yang Locking Pill is a grueling task that drains my mental reserves. I need peace and quiet to ensure the quality of the family’s supply and to do my part for the great cause of continuing the Chen lineage.”

He paused, sighing with a look of exhausted burden. “But my cultivation is meager, and my energy is spent. Being alone… it is simply beyond my capacity now. I wonder… if the family could show some consideration? Perhaps assign me a maidservant? One with a bit of cultivation to offer protection—someone attentive, beautiful, and skilled in… personal care? This way, I could focus my heart entirely on alchemy for the glory of the family tree.”

His voice trailed off, a flush of “embarrassment” creeping up his neck as if he were truly making this request solely for the clan’s prosperity.

The men in the crowd exchanged looks, their eyes glinting with a “you-know-how-it-is” understanding. A few even nodded in envy. Nearby, Chen Ziyi’s face turned scarlet, and she let out a sharp, indignant scoff.

Chen Xingze was seeing stars from pure rage. This bastard wasn’t just surviving; he was leaching!

Chen Rulong was momentarily taken aback before a small, amused chuckle escaped him. Zhou Kai is a piece of work, he thought. He doesn’t lose a single cent in a deal and knows exactly how to leverage a crisis. A born troublemaker.

The Patriarch pondered for a heartbeat but didn’t grant the wish immediately. “The matter of a maidservant will be arranged in due time. However, there is a task at hand that would allow Guest Elder Zhou to showcase his worth while clearing the whispers surrounding his name.”

“On the day you returned injured, many spoke of your connection to that girl, Shen Hanyi. Why not lead an investigation? If you find clues, you’ll clear your reputation and be rewarded handsomely.”

He continued smoothly, “The Desolate Herb Garden is opening soon, and our hands are full. But the matter of the Lone Goose Palace disciple cannot wait. You were at the outskirts of Crouching Tiger Mountain when the fighting broke out. Though you were lucky to survive, the gossip persists. Lead a team back to the site. Clear the suspicion, and the family will pay you well.”

Without waiting for a reply, Rulong looked at Xingze. “Xingze, select two of our most capable and reliable clansmen. They are to accompany and protect Guest Elder Zhou. Ensure his safety is absolute.”

Joy flared in Chen Xingze’s chest. He bowed instantly. “Your son obeys!”

Zhou Kai’s heart sank. The old fox.

Not only had Rulong deflected the request for a girl, but he’d also trapped Zhou Kai in an “open scheme.” This “protection” was a death sentence in disguise—surveillance at best, and a knife in the back at worst, especially after he’d just humiliated the Sixth Elder.

But refusal was impossible. The Patriarch’s words were too righteous. To say no would be to admit guilt or show rank ingratitude. Zhou Kai gritted his teeth and bowed. “This subordinate obeys.”

“Then waste no time. Depart at once.”

MODE B: COMBAT / VIOLENCE

The outskirts of Crouching Tiger Mountain were a claustrophobic tangle of ancient timber. Light was a fractured thing, sliced into jagged shards by the dense canopy overhead.

Zhou Kai walked in the middle. Ahead of him was Chen Ping—Qi Condensation Fifth Layer. He was a block of a man, expressionless and cold. Behind him followed Chen An—Qi Condensation Sixth Layer. His aura was like a coiled spring, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s, constantly burning holes into Zhou Kai’s back.

“Gentlemen,” Zhou Kai said, trying to break the oppressive silence with a nervous, fawning smile. “Blindly searching like this is a fool’s errand. Who is this Shen Hanyi anyway? Why did she stir up the Heavenly Spring Sect so much?”

Chen Ping didn’t even turn his head. His boots crunched rhythmically on the dead leaves.

“Guest Elder Zhou,” Chen An barked from behind, his voice like grinding stones. “The Patriarch ordered us to protect you and assist in the search. Other matters are not for you to ask. Keep your mouth shut.”

Zhou Kai’s smile faltered, his eyes turning cold as he turned back around. Fine. No intel then.

He focused, circulating his meager Qi. He pushed his spiritual sense to the limit, though it barely extended a few yards. These two weren’t guards; they were executioners waiting for a quiet spot. A Fourth Layer vs a Fifth and Sixth? That was seeking death in a hurry.

“It should be near that clearing ahead,” Zhou Kai said, pointing.

The signs of a struggle were evident. Bowl-thick trees were snapped like twigs, their trunks sheared clean by high-grade blades.

Chen Ping and Chen An exchanged a glance, their pace quickening. The ground was scarred, bloodstains long since turned into black, crusty patches on the soil. Shredded fabric was scattered among the roots.

“The Heavenly Spring Sect must have retrieved their dead,” Chen An muttered, his hand hovering over the hilt of his saber.

Chen Ping dropped to a crouch, his fingers tracing a disturbed patch of dirt. “Fresh marks. Shallow, like someone dug this out with a short blade.”

They fanned out, their focus entirely on the ground. Zhou Kai stood still, playing the part of the useless scholar, but his ears were pinned back, listening to every rustle of the wind.

Swoosh!

A sound like tearing silk.

Too fast.

A streak of blinding silver light erupted from a thicket to their rear. It didn’t aim for Zhou Kai. It aimed for Chen Ping, who was still bent over the broken herbs.

“Careful!” Chen An screamed.

Chen Ping spun, his protective Qi flaring in a desperate amber shield.

CRACK.

The sword light didn’t just hit the shield; it shattered it like glass.

Thud.

The blade buried itself in Chen Ping’s chest. A mist of hot, arterial blood sprayed the foliage. Chen Ping’s eyes went wide, the light in them extinguishing before he could even gasp. He slumped into the dirt, dead before he hit the ground.

A Fifth Layer expert, ended in a heartbeat.

Zhou Kai’s eyes narrowed. Borrowed force. Here it comes.