Han Yu wasn’t just a step ahead anymore.
And the game had only just begun.
Still seated behind the boulder, Han Yu retrieved the high-grade communication jade slip again. He didn’t activate it this time—just ran a thumb over its surface, thinking.
He could inform Elder Hei of the mine’s status through an alternate identity, leak the coordinates, or simply wait until the sect sniffed out the truth on their own. Either way, he could control the pace.
Nobody suspected a thing.
The explosion he had left behind would be just chaotic enough to cover his tracks, but subtle enough not to scream sabotage. It would take them hours—maybe even days—to realize someone had stolen their sample pouches.
Han Yu would be somewhere far away.
Planning his next move.
Or, if luck was with him, lounging in a quiet clearing, meditating on his next Soul Qi technique—cultivating both power and infamy.
He leaned back again, feeling the pulse of spirit stones inside the storage bag like treasure humming in tune with his ambition.
"All mine now," he whispered.
The forest rustled around him, unaware that a new player had just entered the greater game of power and profit.
And he had entered with a bang.
Han Yu remained seated behind the mossy boulder for another twenty minutes, the adrenaline finally draining from his system. The scent of pine, earth, and distant smoke clung to the air, mixing with the spiritual mist that hadn’t yet dispersed from the battle-scarred forest.
He let out a slow breath and shut his eyes, savoring the steady beat of his heart.
Now that he was safe, it was time to plan.
The two spatial storage bags sat securely in his robe, practically humming with spiritual energy. The stolen spirit stones were valuable, sure—he could sell them to make a hefty profit and fund the materials needed for the Undying Life Charm. But Han Yu wasn’t just thinking about money.
He wanted to ruin Murong Xie.
"Just selling these isn’t enough," Han Yu murmured. "That bastard’s planning something big, and this mine is just a part of it."
The operation he had just sabotaged was too clean, too systematic. Between the guarded formation, the Spirit Qi suppression methods, and the organized crates of uncut stones, it was clear they weren’t just casually exploiting a mine.
Murong Xie was stockpiling resources—perhaps for a private cultivation stockpile, to bribe other elders, or even to fund a splinter faction within the sect. Or perhaps all of the above.
And Han Yu had just struck a blow right into the heart of that.
He considered reporting everything anonymously to the Twin Leaf Peak Sect. A letter with the location, the details, the involvement of the Murong Clan, and even the stolen samples. But that was a dangerous game. Even if he used an untraceable method, there was still a high chance the information would be buried.
Murong Xie was no fool.
He had backing. Powerful elders. Silent sympathizers. If the report reached the wrong hands, it might be dismissed as a forged letter. Worse, it could draw unwanted attention—on him.
Han Yu tapped a finger on the spatial bag, deep in thought.
No, he needed something more effective. A way to expose Murong Xie while keeping himself clear of the fallout.
That was when the answer came to him.
She wasn’t powerful enough to deal with this alone, but she wasn’t meant to. What mattered was who she worked for—the Mist Eye Sect’s Intelligence Division. That sect had a reputation for infiltration, subterfuge, and most importantly... sowing discord.
They’d know what to do.
Han Yu stood up, stretched lightly, and removed a small jade slip from his robe—the high grade one. He injected a wisp of Spirit Qi and sent the signal.
He didn’t need to include words. They had already arranged a signal code when they first cooperated on the plan earlier.
He made his way to a clearing several hundred meters deeper into the woods, one he had chosen earlier. It was close enough to the chaos to justify the meeting, but remote enough to ensure privacy. A rocky outcrop and natural alcove surrounded by thick bamboo gave the place a sheltered feel.
By the time the sun dipped slightly lower and the insects began their twilight hum, Meng Jueyan arrived.
She emerged from the trees like a specter, her cloak blending with the surroundings. Her expression was calm, but her eyes under the mask were sharp and alert. She narrowed her eyes as she glanced at Han Yu.
"...You’re not injured," she said, more statement than question.
Han Yu smiled, relaxed and sitting on a fallen log with a bag of roasted chestnuts beside him, one of the many snacks he had brought with him. He popped one into his mouth and offered the pouch toward her.
Meng Jueyan stared at him a second longer, then slowly walked over and sat opposite him.
"You were inside," she said, brushing her long black hair back. "I could tell. I saw the formation fluctuate."
"Mm. I was," Han Yu replied easily. "And I had fun."
She raised an eyebrow. "You’re either suicidal or insanely skilled."
Han Yu merely grinned.
"...So this is what Elder Yi’s pawn looks like up close," she muttered, almost to herself. "I suppose it makes sense now."
Han Yu didn’t correct her. Letting her think he had powerful backing wasn’t a bad thing.
"You’ll be happy to know the plan worked," he said instead. "Boars rampaged. Camp’s half-wrecked. Formation’s still unstable. But the best part?"
He tapped the storage bag hanging at his side.
Meng Jueyan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of interest showing.
"Samples. Spirit stones—low, mid, and Ice variants. Still boxed. Still tagged. I even saw the mining site with my own eyes. It’s a mid-grade mine, possibly higher once it goes deeper. And they were preparing to move product—secretly."