The first strike was so fast the ear didn't catch it—only the bone did.
Li Wei deflected the blade with his jacket-wrapped forearm, spun on one heel, and launched a rising kick that made the floor tremble. The attacker stumbled back. Didn't fall.
"They're cultivators," Li Wei muttered. "Perfect. Just what I needed."
The other two shadows flanked him. One lunged for his throat. The other charged straight at the young master, still frozen, clutching the book to his chest.
Li Wei roared.
With a twisted leap, he intercepted the charge with his shoulder and threw the enemy off course. A slash cut across his side. He remained standing.
"Yong, get back! Now!" he shouted.
Chen Yong took just two steps. Not enough.
The shadow reaching for him raised a hand. A black seal lit up in its palm. A wave of pressure ripped through the air.
Li Wei took the hit directly.
He dropped to one knee. Coughed blood.
"Not that easy," he growled, rising as if gravity didn't apply to him.
His eyes glinted—not with anger, but with resolve.
One of the attackers hesitated. The other took his place, launching a flurry of blows.Li Wei didn't dodge them all—just the ones that mattered. Every block hurt. Every breath sliced.
But he didn't fall.
Then he saw it: the third shadow already had the book.
The other two retreated in perfect synchronicity. No footprints. No words.
They vanished into the darkness.
Li Wei staggered, chest heaving like a broken machine. He looked at Chen Yong, still wide-eyed, trembling.
"I told you... to drop them."
Then he collapsed to his knees, both hands bracing against the floor.He was breathing.But barely.
The lights still hadn't come back on. The hall remained wrapped in heavy shadow, broken only by faint glimmers from fallen fixtures.
Li Wei stood slowly, as if each bone had doubled in weight. His shirt was torn. Blood soaked his side. Breathing scorched his lungs.
His eyes scanned the floor, already adapted to the dark.
The objects were still there. Scattered. Forgotten.
Only one drew his gaze: the broken pot.
He staggered toward it and knelt.
There was something different.
A faint gray light pulsed from the cracks along its charred rim. As if it breathed. As if it waited.
His bloodied hands touched the fractured surface.
The reaction was immediate.
The gray light flickered briefly—then the entire pot dissolved into gray smoke, like it was unraveling from within. The vapor curled around his fingers, slithered up his arm, and without heat or sound, sank into his skin.
Li Wei blinked.
"You okay?" Chen Yong asked from behind.
Li Wei turned slowly. His face was stone. His gaze, an open wound.
"Do I look okay?" he spat.
Chen Yong stepped back.
"I told you to drop them," Li Wei continued. "I shouted it. I repeated it. And you... you just stood there, hugging that damned book like it was your mother."
"I... didn't know what to do..."
"Exactly," Li Wei cut in, stepping forward. "You didn't. And I almost died because of your stupidity."
Chen Yong lowered his head. Said nothing.
Li Wei took a long breath. His hands trembled—but not from weakness.
"Next time I tell you something... you do it.Or I let you die."
He turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.