Han Yu reckoned once curiosity was sparked, once an elder reached out first, the balance of power would shift. Han Yu would no longer be a petitioner. He would be a resource.
And when that mont ca, the Cold Silk Orchid would no longer be a risky bargaining chip. It would be the final confirmation.
Han Yu exhaled slowly.
This was dangerous. Every step would have to be calculated. One wrong move and he would alert the very people he was trying to avoid.
But this was the path.
Not force.
Not haste.
Precision.
He straightened his posture, his expression returning to its usual cold calm. Tomorrow, he would return to the Puppet Peak. He would continue his work. He would continue his studies. And quietly, carefully, he would begin laying the groundwork for sothing far bigger than a single mission.
The mine was not his goal.
It was rely the door.
And Han Yu intended to open it on his own terms.
A few days later...
Han Yu leaned back against the stone wall of his cave, the faint hum of the formation arrays around him steady and familiar.
Two full weeks had passed in quiet frustration, each day spent combing through records, manuals, internal notices, and whispered bits of information gathered from the Puppet Peak, the libraries, and even careless disciples who talked too much after drinking.
And every path he explored had closed in his face.
At first, he had believed the Kidney Peak could be approached the sa way as other peaks. Offer sothing useful, demonstrate value, and let interest do the rest. But the deeper he dug, the clearer it beca that the Kidney Peak was an entirely different beast.
Its mbers were insular, paranoid, and fiercely protective of their territory.
Han Yu had started with frost elental bloods. The Blood Sect had an extensive catalog of such materials, ranging from common Frost Vein Beast blood to more refined products extracted from Ice Pool Serpents, Snow Wyrms, and Glacial Apes.
mbers of the Kidney Peak, especially those who did not cultivate the Endless Frost Tomb Art, relied on these bloods to supplent their techniques, stabilize breakthroughs, or enhance certain frost based rituals.
On paper, it looked promising.
In reality, it was useless.
There was no shortage.
The sect had stockpiles. The clans supplied them. The peaks had their own arrangents. Even refined frost blood was circulated regularly through official channels. Han Yu could maybe make sothing slightly cheaper, slightly purer, or marginally more stable, but none of that would turn heads. Not in a place where only extres mattered.
The Kidney Peak would not lower itself to deal with an outer disciple over sothing so mundane.
He had then shifted to puppets.
At first glance, this seed far more promising. Frost environnts were brutal on chanisms. Extre cold caused brittleness, slowed Qi flow through nodes, disrupted formations, and degraded materials faster than normal.
Specialized frost resistant puppets were essential for labor, transport, and even combat training within the Kidney Peak. But once again, the reality crushed his expectations. The Kidney Peak did not commission puppets casually.
They already had dedicated supply lines. When a puppet needed maintenance, it was not sent by a random disciple. It was delivered by slaves, escorted by peak disciples, directly to the Puppet Peak. Repairs were done, logged, and returned the sa way. At no point did an outsider gain access to the Kidney Peak itself.
Even delivery was sealed off.
Even inspection was controlled.
Even conversation was minimized.
Han Yu realized then that the Kidney Peak was not rely isolated. It was deliberately sealed. Every interaction was filtered, tracked, and supervised. Anyone who tried to get close without authorization would imdiately raise alarms.
Which brought him back to the sa dead end.
Access.
He did not need authority. He did not need recognition. He did not even need trust.
He just needed proximity.
Just a mont. Just a chance to speak.
But even that seed impossible.
Han Yu let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple as his thoughts spiraled. For the first ti in a long while, he felt genuinely stuck. This was not a matter of strength, resources, or even intelligence. It was structural. The system itself was designed to keep people like him out.
That was when he felt a faint movent against his neck.
Sothing warm. Familiar.
Squeek
He glanced down and saw a small head poking out from the collar of his robes. Chitterfang blinked up at him with beady eyes, whiskers twitching as it sniffed the air. The rat let out a soft squeak and climbed higher, nuzzling against his jaw before settling comfortably against his neck.
Han Yu snorted softly despite himself.
"At least you don't judge for being stuck," he muttered.
Chitterfang responded by flicking its tail and squeaking again, then rubbing its head against Han Yu's chin in a way that was almost smug.
Han Yu absently ran a finger along the rat's back, feeling the fur beneath his touch. It had finally grown back properly over the last few months. No longer the unsettling pink, hairless creature it had once been, Chitterfang now looked… mostly normal.
Mostly.
The fur was primarily the sa grey as before, though slightly darker and thicker. But right at the top of its head, between the ears, was a distinct tuft of dark red fur. Not bright crimson like the Blood Rats of the sect, but deep and muted, like dried blood.
Han Yu had researched that too.
Blood Rats were a known pest within the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect. Large, aggressive, and vile creatures that fed on blood tainted roots and residues.
They were repelled by most formation arrays and rarely ventured above ground, but when they did, they were dangerous even to low level disciples due to the sheer numbers they could swarm in. Not to ntion they did not care for their lives at all and once they slled blood they would bite nonstop.
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