Now all that remained for Han Yuwas to wait. Sooner or later, ng Jueyan would reach out.
And sure enough, the very next morning, it happened.
As Han Yu was ditating beside his small courtyard pond—his body calm, spirit qi circulating slowly through his ridians—the high-grade communication jade slip hidden in his robes began to vibrate faintly.
A soft hummmm filled his ears, a resonance no one else would hear unless they stood next to him.
Han Yu’s eyes opened at once.
He drew the jade slip from his inner sleeve. The surface glead with swirling patterns of blue and gold, and new text began to etch itself across the surface like a letter being written in real ti.
He read carefully.
’Elder Yi,
I’m happy to report that the operation was a complete success. The targets were eliminated with minimal cost, and the mission went as planned without exposure. Your information proved invaluable. Not only did it allow us to prepare a perfect strike, but our intelligence division managed to extract additional information from items retrieved on-site.
There are strong leads about a possible hidden network of loyalists under Murong Xie. We’ll be investigating further. I’ll keep you updated if anything concrete cos from it.
I was also comnded by the departnt head and awarded a considerable amount of contribution rit for this operation. So of that is thanks to your tily and accurate report. I genuinely appreciate the opportunity you gave .
Expect another ssage soon,
—M.J.’
Han Yu stared at the final letter—those two initials—before slowly closing his fingers around the jade slip.
A pulse of satisfaction rippled through his chest.
He had expected results. He had hoped for results. But this? A successful operation, extracted data, and even internal rit awards? That was far more than he anticipated.
Not only had he removed a dangerous piece from the board, but now he had further cented his "Elder Yi" persona as a valuable and trustworthy contact to ng Jueyan.
And he hadn’t even had to show his face.
"Not bad," Han Yu muttered under his breath, lips curving faintly as he returned the jade slip to its hidden pocket.
He sat quietly for a while after that, reflecting on how far things had co.
Just two years ago, he was a re servant boy fighting over leftover dumplings with Fatty Kui.
Now, he was feeding intelligence to an elite spy network, removing inner court disciples from the sect hierarchy, and stockpiling rare materials in preparation for a revival that could shake the entire world if it was known.
The ga was moving, and so was he.
Slowly. Strategically.
One move at a ti.
But while Han Yu was enjoying this play of power, sothing else was happening within the sect a bit far from him.
Within the secluded confines of a luxurious stone pavilion nestled in the more reclusive stretch of the Outer Court, a tense silence hung like a guillotine waiting to drop.
Murong Xie sat cross-legged upon a black jade ditation dais draped with a velvet cloth. He was clothed in an immaculate robe of crimson silk threaded with fine gold embroidery which was different from the normal Outer Court Disciple robes.
It was a privilege only a few could enjoy within the Outer court and him being the personal disciple of an elder granted him this. Though of course, for official matters he would still have to switch to the uniform.
His long hair was tied back in a ceremonial topknot, and his eyes, typically cool and indifferent, now narrowed with suspicion as he read the jade slip in his hand.
A thin crack appeared on its surface. His grip tightened.
A mont later, it snapped.
The sound was quiet, but every disciple and attendant present in the room felt it like thunder rolling across their spines.
The shattered pieces of the jade slip clattered across the floor, echoing in the silence. No one dared speak.
Then, softly—too softly—Murong Xie said, "Say that again."
The kneeling disciple before him swallowed hard, sweat trickling down the side of his pale face.
"Y-Young Master Murong... as reported by the internal ssengers and confird by three separate witnesses... Inner Court Disciple Rong Jun and the five disciples accompanying him were found dead, outside the Lanbu City near the northwestern forest edge. There were no survivors. It... it appears to have been an ambush."
Murong Xie’s eye twitched.
"Impossible," he muttered, voice sharp. "Rong Jun was strong enough to kill a Mid Stage core formation cultivator if prepared. Even if it were an ambush, how could he and five others all fall without a trace?"
He stood suddenly, the folds of his robes flaring as he paced the room, face darkening with every step.
The disciples around him remained frozen, their heads bowed so low it was as if their necks had snapped.
"This mission was a formality," Murong Xie continued, hands now clenched into fists. "A herb gathering assignnt, with low danger. The real objective wasn’t the herbs, it was—"
He stopped.
His expression grew colder than ice.
"...The letter."
At that mont, one of the junior disciples, who had been nervously fidgeting at the back of the room, finally spoke up.
"Y-Young Master... about that. We... we believe the letter was never delivered."
Murong Xie’s gaze snapped toward the boy like a sword being unsheathed.
"What?"
The disciple trembled under his stare. "The contact on the other side—our... informant—confird he received nothing. There was no package. No letter. They waited three days past the agreed-upon ti and then left. Rong Jun never made contact. It’s assud the letter was lost with him."
The temperature in the room seed to drop by ten degrees.
Murong Xie’s chest rose and fell, slow and deliberate. He was trying to calm himself.
Trying.
But the cracks had already begun to form.
"Do you understand..." he said, voice now eerily quiet, "...what that letter was?"
No one responded for they were far too afraid of what would happen if they spoke up now.
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