The day slipped into dusk, and Arthur found himself once more at the sect gates, seated in his usual spot at the tavern overlooking the entrance. Steam curled upward from his cup of evening tea, carrying the faint fragrance of roasted leaves.
To most disciples, the recent security changes passed unnoticed. An extra patrol here, a sharper question there. But Arthur, who visited this place almost daily, noticed every detail. The watch rotations were tighter, the guards more alert, and the questioning more exacting.
He guessed the reason: the upcoming Great Succession Ceremony. These measures were designed to prevent infiltration and ensure the fairness of the results.
Arthur's gaze slid. It always did to one group alone, the hunter-gatherers. They were trudging in through the gates with bundles of spirit herbs, beast cores, and rare materials strapped to their backs. Their clothes were patched, their faces weathered. Still, they were far more interesting to Arthur than the pampered inner disciples strutting around with their sect insignias.
"Things are progressing so well," he murmured, smirking faintly. "Perhaps I'll be able to venture out soon enough…"
He let out a low chuckle, the sound almost drowned in the tavern chatter. His fingers drummed against the teacup. "And today, I have one more thing to be happy about."
Zi Xuan's forced composure was cracking in his pill refining chamber. His uncle was so desperate that he swallowed Arthur's bait whole. Arthur had pushed, twisted, and finally extorted four times the required resources for the refinement.
Arthur tilted his head back, laughing quietly to himself. "Almost four times… Uncle, you are far too generous."
The exchange replayed in his mind.
"Uncle, I may be able to give you the pills in one moon," Arthur lowered his voice, feigning hesitation.
Zi Xuan's ears had practically twitched at those words. "Can you really, nephew?"
"Yes. If I dedicate myself solely to nothing but this refinement, this entire moon. The chances are high. But— " Arthur had deliberately paused, letting the hope dangle before him, "— it will not be without cost."
Zi Xuan had waved away the caution. "Tell me what you want, nephew."
Arthur bowed, masking the smile that threatened to break across his face. "For this, I will need solitude. If I remain in the Alchemy Pavilion, questions will arise, such as what am I doing so important that other refinements are at a halt?
"You are right."
"What I attempt is too daring. One moon away from the pavilion as a leave should suffice."
Zi Xuan waved a hand dismissively, not hearing the warning, and agreed without a blink. "Done, I will arrange it."
Then Arthur twisted the knife deeper. "I must attempt what no alchemist has dared. Leaping almost two realms to concoct a pill. Failure is certain once or twice, so I will require more resources than the pill itself demands. Unless, of course, you prefer to wait two moons, where I will need only one set."
That was the moment Zi Xuan hesitated. Arthur had seen it in the flicker of his eyes, the twitch at the corner of his mouth. But desperation swallowed hesitation, and the man nodded. "How much are we speaking of?"
Arthur, feigning reluctance, whispered, "Four."
"I'll send the resources to you."
And that was that. Once composed and calculating, Zi Xuan had placed everything into Arthur's hands.
Arthur sipped his tea now, a grin splitting his lips as the warm liquid slid down his throat. "Zi Xuan… you truly have no idea."
His eyes gleamed. "Whatever trouble binds you, I have struck gold from it. One moon… in one moon, I will have enough to shake the very foundation of this sect."
The tavern noise swelled around him. Laughter, dice clattering, the clink of cups, but Arthur sat in silence, smiling.
He went back to his home. Arthur was now with his parents at the long wooden table. The food smelled richer, like some special occasion. His mother's hand was clearly heavy, seasoning out of joy. She was practically glowing, eyes shining as if she had just won a tournament. His father, in contrast, looked calm, but the faintest curl of pride touched the corners of his lips.
Arthur sat down, chopsticks in hand.
"What happened? Why is everyone so happy?" he asked, scanning their faces.
"It's a joyous occasion, Tian'er," his mother said immediately, unable to contain her excitement.
Arthur tilted his head, puzzled. Were they the ones who caused trouble for Zi Xuan? he thought fleetingly. That would balance the equation perfectly.
"What happened?" he repeated.
His father leaned forward to speak, but his mother burst out first, words tumbling faster than he could keep up.
"Today, in the presence of the Sect Master himself, there was an arena battle among the core disciples!" she said, excitedly slamming her chopsticks on the table.
Arthur blinked. An arena battle? His thoughts spun. Wait — did Father win? That would explain it.
"So… what was the result, Father?"
His father gave a short sigh and admitted, "I lost."
Arthur's chopsticks froze mid-air. "What? Then why are we celebrating?"
"Oh, we're celebrating that bastard Zi Xuan's victory!" his mother cut in sharply, her voice half in glee and half in venom.
"Mei'er," his father said gently, "he is still my brother."
"So what?" she shot back, glaring.
Arthur raised his hands and shut his eyes momentarily, like someone trying to hold back the tide of madness.
"Wait. Wait. Wait. What is going on, Father?"
His father finally elaborated, voice steady. "In the mock trial, I fought against every core disciple contending for the sect master's seat."
Arthur leaned forward, listening intently.
"I drew every fight," his father continued, "except one. Can you guess which?"
Arthur smirked faintly. "I think so, Father."
Laughter broke around the table then, warm and hearty. The air grew lighter as food and joy passed between them. His mother poured him another bowl of soup, his father clinked his cup against Arthur's, and the family simply basked in each other's presence for a while.
Later, when dinner had ended and the household had begun to quiet, Arthur walked into his courtyard. The evening wind carried a faint chill, the lanterns swaying gently. He looked up at the moon, then chuckled under his breath.
"I guess I broke him," he murmured to himself. "To pull off such a vile scheme… ha!" His laughter rang low and sharp through the courtyard.