The cool night air barely soothed Han Yu’s aching body as he limped back toward Twin Leaf Peak. Every step felt like a small rebellion against the natural order of bones and joints, but at least he was alive.
Barely.
He jingled the spirit stones in his pouch and the thirty new gold coins he’d earned from betting on himself.
"Was this worth it?" he muttered aloud.
A voice from the darkness answered him.
"Definitely worth it. For us, anyway."
Han Yu froze, spine straightening in alarm. Out from the shadows stepped a group of n in dark robes — not servants, not disciples — their auras heavy, their eyes glinting with dangerous amusent.
"Relax," said the leader, a tall man with silver rings on all his fingers. "We just want to talk."
Han Yu’s instincts scread STRANGER DANGER louder than a sect elder during an alchemy furnace explosion.
"Congratulations," the silver-ringed man said, clapping slowly. "Word of your performance is spreading. We run a... different ring. Higher stakes. Higher rewards."
"Also higher chance of losing several organs," one of the other n added cheerfully.
Han Yu gulped. "I’m not interested," he said, taking a step back.
The silver-ringed man shrugged. "Of course. No pressure. But think about it. Your little sect gas pay you so coins and bruises. We pay spirit stones in addition to gold coins, maybe even cultivation resources. Pills. Treasures. Connections."
Han Yu hesitated. Treasures. Connections. Pills.
Also horrible death, whispered the sensible part of his brain.
But the greedy part was louder.
"Here’s an invitation." The silver-ringed man tossed him a small black token engraved with a dragon eating its own tail. "Next gathering’s three nights from now. Sa forest, deeper in."
Before Han Yu could reply, they lted back into the shadows.
Han Yu stared at the token.
Then he stared at the heavens.
"Why ?" he asked the stars.
The stars, naturally, did not respond.
Back at Twin Leaf Peak
Han Yu stumbled into the outer servant quarters, where Fatty Kui was waiting eagerly.
"Brother Han! Brother Han! You were amazing!" Fatty Kui whispered, bouncing excitedly despite his... mass. "I made ten gold coins betting on you! You’re like a living cheat code!"
Han Yu smiled weakly. "Good for you, Kui. I made... life regrets."
He shoved the black token deep into his pocket, hoping Kui hadn’t seen it.
"Co on, co on!" Fatty Kui said, dragging him toward the kitchen. "They left so leftovers from the disciples’ feast! You deserve a reward! Stead buns! Pork ribs!"
Han Yu’s stomach growled, mutinying against his earlier trauma.
"Food first," he declared solemnly. "Existential dread later."
anwhile, in Li i’s Lab
Li i sat at her desk, humming happily as she polished a brand-new batch of throwing pills.
"Version 2.3 should be even more effective," she said, scribbling notes. "Explodes on impact, releases blinding mist, minor chance of summoning illusory chickens."
She paused, then underlined ILLUSORY CHICKENS three tis.
"I wonder how Han Yu’s doing..." she mused.
She glanced at her pigeon-mail box.
Nothing.
"Probably fine," she said, mostly to herself. "He’s tough. Like a cockroach. A slightly handsor cockroach."
She smiled fondly, then went back to work, blissfully unaware that Han Yu was already being recruited into a fight club where cockroaches didn’t stand a chance.
Three Days Later
Han Yu stood at the forest’s edge, staring into the dark thicket beyond.
The black token in his hand pulsed faintly with a strange warmth, guiding him deeper.
"Maybe I should turn back," he muttered.
"Maybe I should join a monastery. Or fake my death. Again."
But then he thought about Li i’s experintal pills, the constant servant chores, the endless humiliation at the hands of the higher-ranked disciples.
And he stepped forward.
Into the forest.
Into madness.
The further Han Yu went, the darker the world beca. The moonlight thinned out into misty strands, swallowed by dense trees and the heavy sll of moss and damp earth.
After a few minutes of walking, he saw it: a clearing filled with shadowy figures, lanterns hanging from skeletal tree branches, and a crude fighting stage marked out with blood-red ropes. The air buzzed with low murmurs, excited whispers, and the occasional tallic clink of bets being exchanged.
Han Yu’s gut twisted. This was nothing like the chaotic but almost funny servant fight ring. This was... serious.
A tall woman in a black cloak stepped forward, checking the token in his hand."New at, huh? Han Yu, right?" she drawled, glancing at a clipboard.Han Yu nodded, swallowing the dryness in his throat.
She gave him a shark-like grin. "Good. We’ve heard of your little ’pill tricks’. No cheating here unless you’re ready to die for it."
Han Yu’s stomach dropped. ’They knew.’
Before he could protest, the woman waved at a bulky man standing on the other side of the ring."This here’s Liao Feng. Early Qi Refining, solid as a brick, and paranoid enough to have taken anti-poison pills, anti-illusion pills, and so anti-explosion powder up his nose. So no funny business."
Han Yu’s lips parted in horror.
That was ALL his funny business!
The woman smirked at his face."Good luck."
A heavy drum bood, and the crowd roared.
Han Yu stumbled into the ring, trying to rember his breathing exercises, while Liao Feng stretched lazily, cracking his knuckles one by one."Hope you can scream loud, little rat," the man growled.
The drum sounded again.
The fight began.
Liao Feng charged imdiately, a huge fist swinging toward Han Yu’s face.Han Yu ducked, barely, feeling the air split above his head.
THUD!
Liao Feng’s punch shattered a thick wooden post that had been behind him.
Han Yu gulped.One hit. That’s all it would take.
’Think, Han Yu, think!’
He darted back, weaving erratically, pulling a handful of dirt from the ground and flinging it at Liao Feng’s eyes.
It was a classic move.A desperate move. A Han Yu move.
Unfortunately, Liao Feng had apparently expected this — he closed his eyes at the last second and plowed forward blindly like a raging bull.
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