Chapter 11: Chapter 11
~1.5k words · 2026-06-22
CHAPTER 11: The Snake in the Grass
Three days passed in a blur of negotiations and deliveries. Zhao Feng had established a rhythm—mornings at the warehouse, afternoons cultivating in the abandoned temple, evenings reviewing Xiao Chen's reports. The boy had proven himself invaluable, his street instincts sharp enough to spot a lie from three blocks away.
Wu Chen, the merchant who'd approached Zhao Feng about a "partnership," had been easy enough to read. He wanted the qi stones. He wanted them cheap. And he wanted Zhao Feng out of the way afterward. Xiao Chen had followed him to a teahouse in the inner district, where Wu Chen had met with three men from the Liu family—one of the eight major merchant houses that controlled the city's trade.
The Liu family. In his past life, they had been minor players, content to let others fight for scraps while they quietly consolidated power. By the time Zhao Feng had reached the height of his wealth, the Liu family had become his most dangerous competitor. Their patriarch, Liu Wei, had been the one to suggest Zhao Feng's sons turn against him.
*That snake is already moving,* Zhao Feng thought as he arranged crates in the warehouse. *He's testing me, seeing if I'll fold.*
He wouldn't.
The warehouse door creaked open. Zhao Feng's hand moved instinctively to the dagger hidden in his sleeve.
"It's me," Xiao Chen said, slipping through the gap. The boy's face was pale, his eyes wide. "Something's happened."
"Speak."
"There's a girl. In the alley behind the temple. She's hurt."
Zhao Feng's jaw tightened. "That's not our concern."
"She's wearing a sect robe. Azure Sky Sect."
The words hit him like a physical blow. The Azure Sky Sect was one of the major cultivation sects in the region, their influence stretching across three provinces. In his past life, they had been the ones to sponsor the Immortal Ascension Tournament.
And the young woman who'd won that tournament—the nobody who'd shocked everyone—had been an Azure Sky disciple.
"Take me to her."
---
The alley behind the temple was dark, the only light coming from a sliver of moon overhead. The girl lay crumpled against the wall, her white robe stained with blood and mud. Even in the dim light, Zhao Feng could see the injuries—a gash across her ribs, a bruise swelling on her temple, her left arm bent at an unnatural angle.
She was barely breathing.
Xiao Chen stood guard at the mouth of the alley, his eyes scanning the shadows. "No one followed her. I made sure."
Zhao Feng crouched beside the girl. Her face was young—seventeen, maybe eighteen—with delicate features that would have been pretty if not for the blood. Her cultivation base was weak, barely at the second stage of Qi Condensation.
*This isn't her,* he realized. *The tournament winner was a lightning cultivator at the peak of Foundation Establishment. This girl is nothing.*
But she wore the same sect robe. She had the same dark hair, the same build.
"Help me lift her," Zhao Feng said.
Xiao Chen hesitated. "She could be a trap."
"She could be. But she's also a chance."
They carried her to the temple, laying her on a pile of straw near the altar. Zhao Feng worked quickly, cleaning her wounds with water from his canteen, setting her arm with a splint made from broken pews. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, muscle memory from a lifetime of treating injuries—both his own and others'.
The girl stirred as he finished binding her ribs. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and terrified.
"Where—" She coughed, blood flecking her lips. "Who are you?"
"Someone who found you in an alley. What happened?"
Her face contorted with pain. "They came at night. The sect—they destroyed everything. Elder Lin—he betrayed us. He opened the gates for the demon cultists."
Zhao Feng's blood ran cold. "The Azure Sky Sect was attacked?"
"Wiped out." Tears streamed down her face. "I ran. I ran for three days. They're still hunting the survivors."
*Impossible.* In his past life, the Azure Sky Sect had been one of the pillars of the cultivation world. They had survived wars, plagues, and internal purges. They were supposed to be unshakeable.
But his past life had also been a lie. His sons had hidden their betrayal for years before striking. What else had he missed?
"How many survivors?" he asked.
"I don't know. A few dozen, maybe. They scattered." She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "Please. I need to get to the capital. I have to warn the Grand Council."
"The capital is two weeks away. You won't make it in your condition."
"Then I'll die trying." Her eyes blazed with desperate determination. "The demon cult isn't finished. They're coming for the other sects. They're coming for everyone."
Xiao Chen stepped forward. "Boss, we should leave. If the demon cult is hunting her, they'll track her here."
"Not yet." Zhao Feng studied the girl's face, searching for any sign of deception. Her aura was steady, her fear genuine. But in a world built on lies, even genuine fear could be a weapon. "What's your name?"
"Lin Xue."
*Lin.* The same surname as the elder who'd betrayed her. A coincidence, or something more?
"I'm going to help you," Zhao Feng said slowly. "But I need something in return."
Her eyes narrowed. "What could a street merchant possibly want from me?"
"Information. Everything you know about the Azure Sky Sect—their techniques, their treasures, their secrets. And when you recover, you'll owe me a favor."
"That's extortion."
"That's business."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed—a bitter, broken sound that echoed through the empty temple. "Fine. I accept. It's not like I have anything left to lose anyway."
---
The next morning, Zhao Feng woke to find Xiao Chen gone.
*No. Not again.*
He searched the temple, the surrounding streets, the warehouse. Nothing. The boy had vanished without a trace.
Lin Xue was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. Zhao Feng left her with water and a note, then set out to find his informant.
The underworld of Greencloud City had its own rules, its own hierarchy. In his past life, Zhao Feng had mastered them all. He knew which beggars were actually spies, which merchants ran illegal gambling rings, which teahouses served as information exchanges.
He started at the Drunken Dragon, a tavern in the slums where the dregs of society gathered to drink away their sorrows. The owner, a one-eyed man named Iron Ho, recognized him immediately.
"Zhao Feng. Heard you've been making moves." Iron Ho wiped a glass with a rag that had never been clean. "Looking for something?"
"A boy. Dark hair, thin, about this tall." Zhao Feng held his hand at chest level. "He was with me last night. Now he's gone."
Iron Ho's eye narrowed. "Heard about a kid matching that description. Saw him being dragged into the Liu compound an hour ago."
The Liu family. They'd taken Xiao Chen.
"Why?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Iron Ho leaned forward. "Word is, the Lius are consolidating. They've been buying up debts, calling in favors, squeezing out the smaller merchants. You've been making noise, Zhao Feng. Noise attracts attention."
*I've been too careful,* Zhao Feng realized. *But not careful enough.*
He'd underestimated how quickly the major families would notice him. In his past life, he'd been invisible for years before anyone paid attention. But that was because he'd started with nothing, worked his way up slowly. This time, he'd moved too fast, accumulated too much too quickly.
The Lius had seen a threat and decided to remove it.
"Where in the compound?"
"Eastern wing. They have a holding cell for debtors." Iron Ho's eye flickered with something that might have been sympathy. "I wouldn't try to get him back if I were you. The Lius have cultivators on their payroll. You're just a merchant."
*A merchant with forty years of knowledge,* Zhao Feng thought. *And a burning desire for vengeance.*
He turned and walked out of the tavern, his mind racing through possibilities. Direct confrontation was suicide. Bribery would take too long. He needed leverage—something the Lius valued more than Xiao Chen's life.
Then he remembered.
In his past life, the Liu family had risen to power through a single deal: a secret trade route through the Demon Wastes, connecting the human kingdoms to the spirit beast markets of the eastern plains. It had made them a fortune, but it had also made them enemies. The other major families had never discovered the route's location.
But Zhao Feng had.
He'd stumbled upon it by accident, chasing a debtor who'd fled into the wastes. The path was treacherous, guarded by ancient formations and territorial beasts. But it existed.
And if the Lius found out he knew about it, they'd do anything to keep it secret.
*Including returning Xiao Chen alive.*
Zhao Feng smiled, the expression cold and sharp as a blade.
*Time to play the snake's game.*
Three days passed in a blur of negotiations and deliveries. Zhao Feng had established a rhythm—mornings at the warehouse, afternoons cultivating in the abandoned temple, evenings reviewing Xiao Chen's reports. The boy had proven himself invaluable, his street instincts sharp enough to spot a lie from three blocks away.
Wu Chen, the merchant who'd approached Zhao Feng about a "partnership," had been easy enough to read. He wanted the qi stones. He wanted them cheap. And he wanted Zhao Feng out of the way afterward. Xiao Chen had followed him to a teahouse in the inner district, where Wu Chen had met with three men from the Liu family—one of the eight major merchant houses that controlled the city's trade.
The Liu family. In his past life, they had been minor players, content to let others fight for scraps while they quietly consolidated power. By the time Zhao Feng had reached the height of his wealth, the Liu family had become his most dangerous competitor. Their patriarch, Liu Wei, had been the one to suggest Zhao Feng's sons turn against him.
*That snake is already moving,* Zhao Feng thought as he arranged crates in the warehouse. *He's testing me, seeing if I'll fold.*
He wouldn't.
The warehouse door creaked open. Zhao Feng's hand moved instinctively to the dagger hidden in his sleeve.
"It's me," Xiao Chen said, slipping through the gap. The boy's face was pale, his eyes wide. "Something's happened."
"Speak."
"There's a girl. In the alley behind the temple. She's hurt."
Zhao Feng's jaw tightened. "That's not our concern."
"She's wearing a sect robe. Azure Sky Sect."
The words hit him like a physical blow. The Azure Sky Sect was one of the major cultivation sects in the region, their influence stretching across three provinces. In his past life, they had been the ones to sponsor the Immortal Ascension Tournament.
And the young woman who'd won that tournament—the nobody who'd shocked everyone—had been an Azure Sky disciple.
"Take me to her."
---
The alley behind the temple was dark, the only light coming from a sliver of moon overhead. The girl lay crumpled against the wall, her white robe stained with blood and mud. Even in the dim light, Zhao Feng could see the injuries—a gash across her ribs, a bruise swelling on her temple, her left arm bent at an unnatural angle.
She was barely breathing.
Xiao Chen stood guard at the mouth of the alley, his eyes scanning the shadows. "No one followed her. I made sure."
Zhao Feng crouched beside the girl. Her face was young—seventeen, maybe eighteen—with delicate features that would have been pretty if not for the blood. Her cultivation base was weak, barely at the second stage of Qi Condensation.
*This isn't her,* he realized. *The tournament winner was a lightning cultivator at the peak of Foundation Establishment. This girl is nothing.*
But she wore the same sect robe. She had the same dark hair, the same build.
"Help me lift her," Zhao Feng said.
Xiao Chen hesitated. "She could be a trap."
"She could be. But she's also a chance."
They carried her to the temple, laying her on a pile of straw near the altar. Zhao Feng worked quickly, cleaning her wounds with water from his canteen, setting her arm with a splint made from broken pews. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, muscle memory from a lifetime of treating injuries—both his own and others'.
The girl stirred as he finished binding her ribs. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and terrified.
"Where—" She coughed, blood flecking her lips. "Who are you?"
"Someone who found you in an alley. What happened?"
Her face contorted with pain. "They came at night. The sect—they destroyed everything. Elder Lin—he betrayed us. He opened the gates for the demon cultists."
Zhao Feng's blood ran cold. "The Azure Sky Sect was attacked?"
"Wiped out." Tears streamed down her face. "I ran. I ran for three days. They're still hunting the survivors."
*Impossible.* In his past life, the Azure Sky Sect had been one of the pillars of the cultivation world. They had survived wars, plagues, and internal purges. They were supposed to be unshakeable.
But his past life had also been a lie. His sons had hidden their betrayal for years before striking. What else had he missed?
"How many survivors?" he asked.
"I don't know. A few dozen, maybe. They scattered." She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "Please. I need to get to the capital. I have to warn the Grand Council."
"The capital is two weeks away. You won't make it in your condition."
"Then I'll die trying." Her eyes blazed with desperate determination. "The demon cult isn't finished. They're coming for the other sects. They're coming for everyone."
Xiao Chen stepped forward. "Boss, we should leave. If the demon cult is hunting her, they'll track her here."
"Not yet." Zhao Feng studied the girl's face, searching for any sign of deception. Her aura was steady, her fear genuine. But in a world built on lies, even genuine fear could be a weapon. "What's your name?"
"Lin Xue."
*Lin.* The same surname as the elder who'd betrayed her. A coincidence, or something more?
"I'm going to help you," Zhao Feng said slowly. "But I need something in return."
Her eyes narrowed. "What could a street merchant possibly want from me?"
"Information. Everything you know about the Azure Sky Sect—their techniques, their treasures, their secrets. And when you recover, you'll owe me a favor."
"That's extortion."
"That's business."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed—a bitter, broken sound that echoed through the empty temple. "Fine. I accept. It's not like I have anything left to lose anyway."
---
The next morning, Zhao Feng woke to find Xiao Chen gone.
*No. Not again.*
He searched the temple, the surrounding streets, the warehouse. Nothing. The boy had vanished without a trace.
Lin Xue was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. Zhao Feng left her with water and a note, then set out to find his informant.
The underworld of Greencloud City had its own rules, its own hierarchy. In his past life, Zhao Feng had mastered them all. He knew which beggars were actually spies, which merchants ran illegal gambling rings, which teahouses served as information exchanges.
He started at the Drunken Dragon, a tavern in the slums where the dregs of society gathered to drink away their sorrows. The owner, a one-eyed man named Iron Ho, recognized him immediately.
"Zhao Feng. Heard you've been making moves." Iron Ho wiped a glass with a rag that had never been clean. "Looking for something?"
"A boy. Dark hair, thin, about this tall." Zhao Feng held his hand at chest level. "He was with me last night. Now he's gone."
Iron Ho's eye narrowed. "Heard about a kid matching that description. Saw him being dragged into the Liu compound an hour ago."
The Liu family. They'd taken Xiao Chen.
"Why?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Iron Ho leaned forward. "Word is, the Lius are consolidating. They've been buying up debts, calling in favors, squeezing out the smaller merchants. You've been making noise, Zhao Feng. Noise attracts attention."
*I've been too careful,* Zhao Feng realized. *But not careful enough.*
He'd underestimated how quickly the major families would notice him. In his past life, he'd been invisible for years before anyone paid attention. But that was because he'd started with nothing, worked his way up slowly. This time, he'd moved too fast, accumulated too much too quickly.
The Lius had seen a threat and decided to remove it.
"Where in the compound?"
"Eastern wing. They have a holding cell for debtors." Iron Ho's eye flickered with something that might have been sympathy. "I wouldn't try to get him back if I were you. The Lius have cultivators on their payroll. You're just a merchant."
*A merchant with forty years of knowledge,* Zhao Feng thought. *And a burning desire for vengeance.*
He turned and walked out of the tavern, his mind racing through possibilities. Direct confrontation was suicide. Bribery would take too long. He needed leverage—something the Lius valued more than Xiao Chen's life.
Then he remembered.
In his past life, the Liu family had risen to power through a single deal: a secret trade route through the Demon Wastes, connecting the human kingdoms to the spirit beast markets of the eastern plains. It had made them a fortune, but it had also made them enemies. The other major families had never discovered the route's location.
But Zhao Feng had.
He'd stumbled upon it by accident, chasing a debtor who'd fled into the wastes. The path was treacherous, guarded by ancient formations and territorial beasts. But it existed.
And if the Lius found out he knew about it, they'd do anything to keep it secret.
*Including returning Xiao Chen alive.*
Zhao Feng smiled, the expression cold and sharp as a blade.
*Time to play the snake's game.*