Chapter 18: Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18: The Price of Knowledge

The lantern flickered as Zhao Feng's brush hovered over the ledger.

Six months until the Immortal Ascension Tournament. In his past life, he'd watched from the cheap seats, a nobody among thousands, while the lightning cultivator named Mei Lin had shattered every expectation. The major families had offered her everything—rank, resources, marriage alliances. She'd refused them all.

Three months later, she was dead.

The official story said a beast attack during a solo hunt. But Zhao Feng had seen the wounds. Clean cuts. Precise. The work of human hands, not claws.

He'd never learned who killed her. But he'd learned where she found her power.

The Forgotten Archives.

A repository of techniques and knowledge buried beneath the old academy, sealed for centuries because the elders deemed them too dangerous. In his past life, Mei Lin had stumbled upon them by accident. This time, Zhao Feng would find them first.

But first, he needed to survive the night.

---

A knock came at the warehouse door. Three sharp raps, then two soft ones.

Wu Chen was early.

Zhao Feng set down his brush and moved to the door, his footsteps deliberately slow. He unlatched the lock and pulled the door open just wide enough to see his visitor.

Wu Chen stood in the darkness, a hooded lantern in one hand and a leather satchel in the other. His face was pleasant, almost friendly, with the kind of smile that made you want to trust him.

Zhao Feng knew better.

"Brother Zhao," Wu Chen said, bowing slightly. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all." Zhao Feng opened the door wider. "Please, come in."

Wu Chen stepped inside, his eyes scanning the warehouse with practiced efficiency. He noted the crates, the stacks of spirit grass, the scale and ledger on the table. Nothing escaped his gaze.

"You've been busy," he said, setting his satchel on the table. "I'm impressed. When we first met, I thought you were just another small-time trader trying to flip a few stones. But this..." He gestured at the organized stockpile. "This is the work of someone who knows what he's doing."

"I've had good teachers," Zhao Feng said, keeping his voice neutral.

"Modest. I like that." Wu Chen opened his satchel and pulled out a small jade box. "I brought what you asked for. Mid-grade qi stones, forty of them, as promised."

He placed the box on the table and opened the lid. The stones inside glowed with a soft blue light, their energy palpable even from a distance. Zhao Feng leaned in, examining them closely.

They were real. Genuine mid-grade stones, properly formed, with no cracks or impurities.

But something was wrong.

In his past life, Zhao Feng had handled millions of qi stones. He knew their weight, their texture, their energy signature. These stones had the right appearance, but the energy felt... thin. Like watered-down wine.

He picked one up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. The stone was warm, which was normal. But when he pressed his cultivation sense into it, the qi resisted. It didn't flow smoothly, like it should. It felt sticky. Clogged.

These stones had been drained and recharged.

Someone had extracted the original qi, then refilled the stones with lower-quality energy. It was an old scam, one that required significant skill to pull off. The stones would work for a few days, maybe a week, before the false qi dissipated and left nothing but useless rock.

"Something wrong?" Wu Chen asked, his smile still in place.

Zhao Feng looked up, meeting the man's eyes. "These stones have been tampered with."

Wu Chen's smile didn't waver. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do." Zhao Feng set the stone back in the box. "The energy signature is wrong. Someone drained these stones and refilled them with low-grade qi. They'll last maybe five days before they become worthless."

For a long moment, Wu Chen said nothing. Then his smile disappeared, replaced by something cold and calculating.

"You have a sharp eye, Brother Zhao. Sharper than I expected."

"I've been cheated before. I learned to spot the signs."

"A pity." Wu Chen reached into his satchel again, but this time his hand came out holding a small dagger. The blade caught the lantern light, gleaming with a faint green tint. Poison. "I was hoping we could do this the easy way."

Zhao Feng didn't move. "The easy way?"

"The easy way is you give me everything you have, and I let you walk away with your life." Wu Chen's voice was flat, professional. "The hard way is I take everything and leave your body in the gutter for the rats."

"You're not here to trade."

"No. I'm here to collect." Wu Chen circled the table, the dagger held loosely in his hand. "You've been making waves, Brother Zhao. Buying up qi stones, undercutting established merchants, making deals with people who should know better. The families are starting to notice. And they don't like what they see."

"The families sent you?"

"The families don't dirty their hands with street-level work. They hired someone. I'm that someone." Wu Chen shrugged. "It's nothing personal. You're just in the way."

Zhao Feng's mind raced. His cultivation was still weak, barely at the third level of Qi Condensation. Against a trained assassin, he had no chance in a direct fight. But he hadn't survived two lifetimes by fighting fair.

"I'll make you a counter-offer," Zhao Feng said, his voice calm.

Wu Chen laughed. "You're in no position to negotiate."

"Thirty thousand spirit coins."

The laughter stopped. "What?"

"Thirty thousand spirit coins. That's what I'll pay you to walk away tonight and tell whoever hired you that I'm not worth the trouble."

"And why would I believe you have thirty thousand spirit coins?"

Zhao Feng reached into his robe and pulled out a wooden token. It was plain, unremarkable, with a single character carved into its surface: *Jade*.

Wu Chen's eyes widened.

"You recognize this," Zhao Feng said. "Good. Then you know what it means."

The Jade Token was one of the most valuable items in the city. It granted its bearer access to the Jade Pavilion, the most exclusive auction house in the Eastern Continent. Only a handful of people possessed such tokens, and they were never given lightly.

"Where did you get that?" Wu Chen's voice had lost its professional edge.

"That's not important. What's important is what I can do with it." Zhao Feng held the token up. "The next Jade Pavilion auction is in three months. I have enough stockpiled to secure a seat at the main table. Do you know what happens at the main table?"

Wu Chen's grip on the dagger tightened.

"Deals worth millions," Zhao Feng continued. "Cultivation techniques that can break through bottlenecks. Spirit weapons that can turn a nobody into a master. And the people who sit at that table? They don't forget favors. They also don't forget slights."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm offering you a choice." Zhao Feng set the token on the table between them. "Take thirty thousand spirit coins, delivered in three installments, and walk away. Or try to kill me, and spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering which of the families I've befriended will come for you."

Wu Chen stared at the token, his jaw working.

"You're bluffing," he finally said.

"Am I?" Zhao Feng smiled. "You've been watching me for weeks, Wu Chen. You know I'm not a fool. You know I've been planning something. Do you really think I'd let myself be caught unprepared?"

From outside the warehouse, a sound drifted in. Soft footsteps. Multiple sets of them.

Wu Chen's head snapped toward the door.

"That's my insurance," Zhao Feng said. "Street kids. Twelve of them. They've been watching this warehouse since you arrived. If I don't walk out of here alive, they'll spread the word about what happened here. They'll describe your face, your clothes, your fighting style. By sunrise, every information broker in the city will know who killed Zhao Feng."

"You're insane."

"No. I'm prepared." Zhao Feng picked up the token and tucked it back into his robe. "Now. Do we have a deal?"

The silence stretched.

Then, slowly, Wu Chen lowered the dagger. "Three installments. First one by tomorrow night."

"Done."

"And I want the names of your street kids. I need to know who's watching me."

"Not possible. But I'll give you something better." Zhao Feng reached into his pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper. "The name of the person who hired me to buy up those qi stones. You can sell that information for twice what I'm paying you."

Wu Chen took the paper, reading it quickly. His eyes narrowed. "This is real?"

"It's real. I've been working for a minor branch of the Liu family. They're trying to corner the qi stone market before the tournament. Your employer probably already knows, but now you have proof."

Wu Chen pocketed the paper. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the warehouse, disappearing into the night.

Zhao Feng waited until the footsteps faded completely before he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

He hadn't had any street kids watching. He'd gambled everything on a bluff.

But he'd won.

For now.

He looked down at the jade box of fake qi stones, then at his ledger, then at the token hidden in his robe. The pieces were starting to come together, but the game was only beginning.

Someone had sent Wu Chen. Someone with enough money to hire a professional assassin, enough influence to track his movements, and enough paranoia to want him dead before he became a real threat.

The question was: who?

And more importantly: how much did they know?

---

Dawn found Zhao Feng standing on a hill overlooking the city's outer district. Below him, the morning markets were coming to life, merchants setting up stalls, customers haggling over prices, children running through the streets.

In the distance, he could see the Jade Pavilion's golden roof, catching the first rays of sunlight.

Three months until the auction. Six months until the tournament.

He had so much to do, and so little time.

A movement caught his eye. Xiao Chen, climbing the hill toward him, his thin frame silhouetted against the rising sun.

"I followed Wu Chen," the boy said, breathing hard. "Like you asked."

"And?"

"He went to a teahouse in the inner district. Met with a woman. Rich clothes, lots of jewelry." Xiao Chen paused. "She had a tattoo. A silver serpent wrapped around a tree."

Zhao Feng's blood ran cold.

The Silver Serpent Clan. One of the most powerful underground organizations in the Eastern Continent. In his past life, they'd controlled the black market for cultivation resources, ruling through fear and violence.

But they weren't supposed to be here. Not yet. Not for another five years.

"Did you hear anything they said?"

Xiao Chen shook his head. "Too far away. But she gave him something. A bag, heavy. Sounded like coins."

Gold. Payment for a job well done. Or payment for a job still in progress.

"Good work." Zhao Feng reached into his pocket and pulled out a few copper coins, pressing them into the boy's hand. "Get some food. Rest. I'll find you tonight."

"Are you in trouble?" Xiao Chen asked, his young face serious.

"Not yet." Zhao Feng turned back to look at the city. "But I