Night fell upon the village like a heavy cloak. Wuji staggered through the door of the hut, his body trembling and his muscles screaming from the night's training.
He had pushed himself to the limit again, until his cells protested and cellular regeneration kicked in like wildfire, bringing with it that same beastly hunger.
Before he could collapse, Meiyin rushed to him with a bundle of dried meat clutched in her small hands.
"Here, brother," she said quickly, pressing it into his palms.
He didn't speak. He devoured the meat in silence, barely chewing each bite. The fire in his belly calmed with every swallow.
"Not enough!" He said, looking at where the rest of the meat was. She ran back, dragged the pot of meat, and put it in front of him. He began devouring it as if it were a divine delicacy.
Five minutes later, he dropped to the ground with a groan and stared up at the ceiling.
"Water," Meiyin said softly, holding out a clay cup.
He sat up and drank it all in one go. Then, he sank back down with a sigh.
"Yin Yin..." he said in a low voice. "I told you before. It's just training. You shouldn't be up this late. It's not good for your body."
She knelt beside him, her voice quiet but firm.
"I can't sleep when I know you're out there suffering alone. This is the only way I can help you right now. I thought about bringing you meat while you were training, but I was afraid it would distract you."
Wuji closed his eyes for a moment. The hut was quiet, except for their breathing. He didn't speak right away; he just looked at her.
She was hunched near the wall with her knees drawn up, watching him with tired but stubborn eyes. She was too thin. Her arms were scraped from carrying water. Her green dress was patched in four places.
She didn't complain. She never did.
"Yin Yin," he said quietly. "When all of this is over, when I've crushed every last one of those bastards, I'll take you away from here. Far from this rotten village, these smug villagers who think they are nobles, and anyone who thinks pain is something you deserve."
Meiyin blinked. "I don't mind the village," she whispered. "As long as you're with me, I can live anywhere."
A fragile silence stretched between them, as if it might break with a single breath.
"But I do mind," Wuji said. His voice was steel wrapped in fatigue. "You shouldn't have to live like this just because I was born weaker than them. Because I wasn't born with golden bones or a heavenly spirit root."
He sat up slowly and rested his arms on his knees. His body still ached, but his mind had never been clearer.
"I swear on every cell in this cursed body, I'll forge a future with my bare hands. Even if the heavens block my path, I'll break their spine."
Meiyin smiled faintly. It was the kind of smile that hid sadness.
"You always say crazy things when you're tired," she said.
"And I always mean them," he replied, giving her a crooked grin.
He stood up and staggered to his bed and lay back down and closed his eyes, letting silence take over. Meiyin tucked the blanket over his chest before curling up in her straw bed.
But before sleep came, Wuji whispered into the dark, "I'll make them pay. I'll make sure you never have to worry about anything again."
The next day, Wuji woke up in the afternoon. His body was sore, but not so much that it stopped him from moving. Without wasting time, he rolled off the bed and stepped outside into the sunlight, which stung his eyes. He walked around to the back of the hut, where a basin sat.
The water was murky and thick with floating fibers. The air smelled faintly of wood ash and old cloth.
He crouched beside the basin, narrowing his eyes. "The fibers have broken down...good," he muttered.
He dipped his hands into the basin and lifted a handful of the pulp. It oozed through his fingers, soft and stringy.
"Now, on to the next step," he murmured as he carried the basin inside. His mind was already racing through calculations. He scanned the hut for usable materials.
In the corner, he spotted a broken stool with splintered legs and a sunken side. "Perfect," he thought. "Did Yin Yin bring this back? What excuse should I use when she asks for it?"
He was still considering his options when Meiyin entered, balancing a pot of water in her arms.
"You came," Wuji said, straightening up. "Do you need that stool? It's old. I'll go to the village shops and get you a new one."
Meiyin set the pot down and dusted off her dress. "I need it," she said softly. "I've been looking for it for days. Chen Yi and his friends threw it out; they didn't know it was Mom's." Her voice dropped at the end.
Wuji's heart clenched. Of course she'd find meaning in a broken stool. To her, it wasn't just a seat, but a memory.
"Okay," he said, forcing a smile. "I'll find what I need elsewhere. Don't worry."
At the village shops, Wuji went straight to the carpenter's stall and bought eight sturdy wooden sticks, each about six inches long. "Enough for the paper frame," he muttered.
Then, he headed to the blacksmith.
As soon as he stepped inside, mockery came like flies to meat.
"Well, well," sneered Liang, arms crossed. "Look what the lazy bum dragged in. What's a dropout doing in our esteemed blacksmith shop?"
"He showed up once at the training grounds, then vanished," said Ren, shaking his head dramatically.
"He truly brings shame upon us, the students of the Fifth Elder, since he couldn't even last two days."
Yulian stepped forward, looking bored and dismissive. "We don't have time for this. The master is waiting to teach us the sword forms. Liang, did you tell your father that we need swords?"
"He's in the back in his private room forging them. He might finish in thirty minutes," Liang added smugly. "But, since we're here, we might as well pass the time by teasing the village fool."
Wuji didn't answer their taunts. His face remained impassive as he held the bundle of wooden sticks in his right hand and walked silently past the hanging curtains of tools in the blacksmith's front stall.
They followed behind him like jackals trailing a lion they had mistaken for wounded.
"I bet fifty copper coins he's here for a knife," said Liang with a smug grin.
"I say a shovel," Ren laughed. "Gotta scoop up that horse shit like an expert."
"What about you, Yulian?" Liang asked.
Yulian tilted her head, her eyes glittering. "Maybe a hairpin. For his ugly little sister."
Wuji froze.
He turned. His gaze locked on her, biting through silk like frost.
If he could have torn her apart in that moment, he would have. But he held back. Barely.
Seeing his reaction, they knew they'd found the right wound.
"Even if she's ugly," Liang said, laughing, "she's still a virgin. Maybe we should give her a proper send-off, huh?"
Wuji said nothing. He turned around and walked into the forge area.
His silence wasn't weakness; it was the calm before the storm.
At the counter, Liang's older brother—the acting seller in the smithy—glanced up from hammering something on a small anvil.
"What do you need?" he asked flatly. "Swords start at five gold coins. Knives are one gold."
Wuji stared at him, unfazed. "I already have both. I paid one gold for the set. You won't be robbing me today."
"I want a window mesh," said Wuji. "About the size of a book page."
Behind him, Ren scoffed. "What kind of weakling needs mesh for bugs? Are you going to catch a mosquito, scholar boy?"
"Maybe he's buying it for his ugly sister," Yulian sneered. "So she doesn't get more disfigured."
Liang's brother didn't even flinch. "Three silver coins."
Wuji's jaw tightened. "Forty copper coins at most? that's the fair price." But he asked anyway: "Last price?"
The older boy didn't hesitate. "Three silver. No haggling. Take it or head to town."
"Yeah," Liang added from behind, his voice dripping with venom. "Go to town, beggar. I'm sure you'll find better deals there."
He smirked inwardly. "Go to town, and we'll be waiting. Those gold coins of yours will change owners real quick."
Wuji took three silver coins out of his pouch and placed them on the counter.
Liang's older brother, Luigi, picked them up and went to the back of the smithy. Moments later, he returned with a worn, brown, mesh bag with frayed edges.
As he turned, Liang stepped up beside him. "Tell him the price went up. Force him to go to town instead," he whispered with a smirk.
"You just want to rob him," Luigi said, seeing right through him.
"Of course," Liang said, grinning shamelessly.
Luigi shrugged. "Relax. I wasn't going to give him the new stock anyway. He's getting this one, the oldest we've got."
"You're better at this than I thought," Liang laughed.
They returned to the counter, their faces serious.
"This is the last one," Luigi said, placing the old mesh down.
Wuji stepped forward to take it, but Luigi's next words stopped him cold.
"It's four silver now. You still owe one."
Wuji froze. His jaw clenched. "Didn't I already pay? Why did you add an extra coin?"
"This isn't just any mesh," Luigi said with exaggerated gravity. "It belonged to the former village chief. It is a relic, a priceless one at that. But since we're fellow villagers, I'm only charging an extra silver coin instead of ten."
Behind Wuji, the trio of jackals barely contained their laughter.
"Liars! Every last one of them."
But Wuji knew better than to lash out. Not here and not now.
He reached into his pouch and placed his last silver coin on the table.
"Calm down," he told himself. "You're outnumbered. One wrong move, and they'll beat you half to death. The fifth elder won't help me again since I'm talentless at martial arts. Even if I die here, no one will avenge me."
He picked up the ragged mesh, turned, and walked toward the smithy's exit.
At the door, he paused and turned his head back. His eyes lingered on Liang.
Then, without a word, he walked out, heading back to the hut to finish what he started.