Arthur woke with the first light of dawn, the rising sun spilling warmth across his chambers.
Today felt different from all his past moons in the sect. There was no urgency clawing at him, no duties to rush toward. All thanks to Zi Xuan because he had, as promised, secured him a full moon's leave from the Alchemy Pavilion.
He stretched leisurely before settling into a cross-legged posture by the window. The morning rays danced across his face as he guided his breath, sinking into cultivation.
His Qi cycled slowly, then steadily through his energy centers. The gentle current nourished his dantian, strengthening the sea of energy within. From there, it coursed into his meridians, smoothing their flow, polishing them as if cleansing rust from iron channels. His body drank in the vitality, his cultivation foundation firmed quietly.
When he opened his eyes, the morning had brightened.
Arthur let out a soft chuckle. How should I spend this month? He wondered. I did tell him I needed all this time to prepare for the pill, but that was a lie.
In truth, refining the pill would take him no more than a day. He had many tricks up his sleeve, and one of those would allow him to succeed in a single attempt, even if he had not yet reached the Peak Amber Radiance. As for the "extra ingredients," that too was nothing more than a ploy, a needle jabbed at Zi Xuan to make him bleed resources.
A little interest returned on the trouble he caused me.
Three shichen passed. Arthur spent nearly a quarter of the day idly gazing out his window. He watched servants bustling about, gardeners trimming the hedges, the small rhythms of household life playing like a slow song. His mind felt strangely blank.
He could have cultivated more, yet a reluctance rooted him in place. His father's words echoed within him: Three moons. After three moons, I will be sect master. Arthur decided it would be safe to push his strength to its limits only then.
For now, restraint was safer. If he advanced too quickly, not even excuses of rare pills and medicinal brews would be enough to justify leaping through Amber Radiance stages faster than Ember Ignition cultivators.
A soft knock broke his thoughts.
"Young Master," a sweet voice called gently behind the door.
"Come inside, Zi Yan," Arthur replied.
The door slid open, and Zi Yan entered with measured steps. She was about his age, clad in a simple light-blue maid's robe, her dark hair tied neatly at the back. Her features were delicate, carrying the glow of youth, and her eyes held both respect and an unguarded curiosity toward him.
Arthur raised a brow, smiling faintly. "It's still half a shichen early for lunch. What brings you here?"
Zi Yan bowed lightly. "Young Master, two people are waiting for you."
Arthur leaned back lazily. "Oh? What happened?"
"They say… they are here to deliver some pill refining items to you."
Arthur's lips curled into a grin. He works fast, he thought.
The ingredients for the Whiteflare Bloom Breakthrough Pill were rare and costly, not something easily procured even within the sect. Yet Zi Xuan had already moved mountains to send them.
Arthur laughed wheezingly to himself, shaking his head. Father must have beaten him senseless for him to be in such a hurry.
Arthur met the two men in the courtyard, dressed in outer sect attendants' robes. Their faces bore the fatigue of long service, but their posture was respectful.
"Greetings, Young Master," they spoke in unison, cupping their fists.
Arthur returned a faint smile. "Greetings, esteemed guests. You've come with the materials?"
"Yes," one replied, giving a storage bag. With both hands, he presented it. Inside, Arthur caught the faint glimmer of medicinal boxes and the fragrance of rare herbs — Five-Hundred-Year-Old Mountain Ginseng, a sealed case of whole White Spirit Lotus, and several tightly wrapped packets of powdered essence whose scent alone promised their potency.
Arthur took the bag, weighed it briefly, and handed it to Zi Yan. "Place these safely in my chambers."
"Yes, Young Master," she bowed, leaving at once.
Arthur's smile deepened as he turned back to the men. "Tell Uncle there is nothing to worry about. He should be at ease now. I will hand over what he requests soon enough. All he needs to do is keep the Alchemy Pavilion steady."
The two bowed again, deeply. "Yes, Young Master." Without another word, they excused themselves and departed through the gates.
Moments later, Zi Yan returned. Arthur's gaze softened slightly.
"Zi Yan," he said evenly, "go and fetch Liu Fen and Ma Rong."
She nodded obediently. "Yes, Young Master."
Liu Fen and Ma Rong were guards assigned by the Alchemy Pavilion to protect him, but Arthur knew they were spies in all but name. Yet Arthur had carefully tugged at their strings over the past moons, shifting their loyalties.
A Spirit Stone here, a share of profits there. Arthur had made them more money than the Pavilion ever would. And in return, their silence and obedience had slowly drifted away from the Pavilion's leash, anchoring firmly in Arthur's hand instead.
Once Zi Yan left, Arthur entered his chambers. The fragrance of herbs clung to the air. The storage bag sat neatly on the table. With careful hands, he unsealed it and began sorting through the contents. His fingers brushed across dried petals, crystalline powders, and the roots. He selected only a measured portion from the trove, just enough for a single attempt at the Whiteflare Bloom Breakthrough Pill. He wrapped the rest of the ingredients back and carefully set them aside.
A knock came at the door.
"Enter," Arthur said.
The door slid open, and Liu Fen and Ma Rong stepped inside. Their uniforms were faintly creased, and their expressions were composed yet subtly deferential.
Arthur leaned back, studying them both with calm eyes. Good. They came quickly.
"Greetings, Young Master."
Liu Fen and Ma Rong's voices rose in unison as they stepped forward and cupped their fists.
Arthur acknowledged them with a slight nod. "Why haven't you both left yet? Surely you've heard the news, I have been given a moon's worth of leave."
The two exchanged a glance and nodded. "We have, Young Master."
Arthur's lips curved faintly. "Well, since you're still here, sending for you saves me the trouble. I have something that needs your hands."
Arthur pointed his finger towards the ingredients. He watched them with hooded eyes. He knew they were spies of the Alchemy Pavilion, but he didn't care. Let them see what he wanted them to see. Nothing more.
"I wish for you to sell these," Arthur said evenly.
The two guards stepped closer, and they watched the separated portion. Their eyes widened as recognition struck them. A bead of sweat traced down Liu Fen's temple. Ma Rong's jaw clenched.
"Young Master…" Liu Fen's voice quivered slightly. "I… I recognize two of these ingredients. Are they not for—"
"Yes," Arthur cut him off sharply, his tone brooking no questions.
The silence that followed pressed down heavier than the aura of the herbs themselves.
Arthur's voice lowered, cold yet deliberate. "Sell them. And sell them in utmost secrecy."
Both men swallowed hard, throats working in visible tension. "Why so, Young Master?" Ma Rong dared to ask.
Arthur's gaze sharpened, and his words fell like knives. "Because if you don't, it may very well cost you your life."
The two froze, their hearts pounding audibly in their ears.
Arthur let the weight of his words linger, then exhaled slowly, almost like a teacher soothing frightened students. "But worry not, the risk comes with reward. There are three portions in this storage bag. If you succeed, one full portion of the earnings will be yours to keep."
Their eyes lit with conflicting greed and fear. The kind of offer that could make their lives easy for a year… or bury them six feet under.
They glanced at each other, silent, calculating. Then both straightened, cupped their fists, and bowed low.
"Yes, Young Master."
With painstaking care, they wrapped the storage bag in layers of cloth.
The two men bowed once more before leaving his chambers; their footsteps were heavy yet hurried, as though eager to complete the task but terrified of being seen with their cargo.
Arthur sat alone in the quiet, fingers tapping lightly against the table. He whispered to himself.
"If not for the Heavenly Oath, I would have sold those as pills."