Shen Lu learned quickly that confinement wasn't simply being locked in a room.
Confinement was being reminded, in a hundred small ways, that the sect had already decided what you were. It was the way the corridor outside his door never quite went silent. It was the way footsteps paused a fraction longer than necessary whenever someone passed, as if they were checking whether the villain was still breathing. It was the way meals arrived like offerings to a beast: slid across the floorboards and withdrawn from the threshold with the speed of a hand that had been bitten before.
Morning arrived with the bell that marked the first training cycle, its sound rolling over rooftops and courtyards like a commandment. Shen Lu sat at his table in a robe that was clean but not comfortable, hair tied back with a strip of cloth he didn't remember owning, and tried to eat porridge that tasted like warmed water pretending to be a meal.
Across from him, on the window sill, Yuan coiled in a neat loop as if he were a decorative ornament. In the daylight, his scales looked almost plain at first glance—dark, smooth, the kind of color that could be dismissed as shadow. Then light struck them at an angle and a faint blue-green sheen rippled across his body like oil on deep water.
Yuan's eyes were half-lidded, watching Shen Lu with the lazy contempt of something that had never had to worry about manners.
The jade vial sat on the table beside Shen Lu's bowl, pale as bone and faintly warm to the touch even after a night in the room. Shen Lu didn't look at it directly, as if staring too long might count as acceptance.
He did not trust gifts in this place. He did not trust kindness. He didn't even fully trust his own breathing yet, because this body carried habits he hadn't asked for.
He set the spoon down and wiped his mouth. The moment the porridge was finished, the room became too quiet. Quiet did not mean safe. Quiet meant the sect was listening.
"Explain," Shen Lu said softly, not looking up. He kept his tone casual, like he was complaining about weather, because he had learned in the last day that anything that sounded like fear only made the walls closer.
Yuan blinked once. "Explain what?"
"You told me the original me set the northern slope incident," Shen Lu said. "You told me someone erased the worst trace."
Yuan's tongue flicked, tasting the air, tasting Shen Lu's tension. "You want a timeline."
Shen Lu's fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "I want to know exactly what I'm inheriting."
Yuan's eyes narrowed with amusement. "A lot."
Shen Lu exhaled through his nose. The sound was almost a laugh. Dry, humorless. "That's comforting."
Yuan shifted slightly, the scales whispering against wood. "Three days ago, you were bored. You were angry. You were hunting someone to make smaller."
Shen Lu felt his stomach tighten. "The outer disciple."
"Yes." Yuan's voice was matter-of-fact, as if cruelty was simply a weather report. "He spoke too loudly in the herb storeroom. He complained about allocations. He said the alchemy hall was taking too much from the outer disciples."
Shen Lu closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
In his old life, he had heard complaints like that in staff rooms and back corridors: people angry about unfair distribution, people exhausted and brave enough to say it out loud. Here, that bravery could cost you your life.
"And I," Shen Lu said slowly, "couldn't tolerate being questioned."
Yuan's gaze sharpened. "You could tolerate it. You just enjoyed what came after you punished it."
Shen Lu opened his eyes and stared at Yuan. "You're loyal to the original Shen Lu, aren't you?"
Yuan's pupils narrowed, snake-thin. "I'm loyal to survival. The original Shen Lu fed me. He gave me a place. He gave me blood when I wanted blood."
The casual way Yuan said it made Shen Lu's skin prickle.
Yuan continued, "You called the disciple to the northern slope with a task order. You set a talisman formation you weren't qualified to set. You used poison dust to make him panic. You wanted him to stumble. You wanted him to beg."
Shen Lu's mouth went dry. "And he didn't?"
Yuan's head tilted. "He begged. He cried. He tried to crawl away. Then the formation backlash hit him harder than you meant."
Shen Lu's chest wound throbbed as if the body remembered that moment and resented the mind for asking.
"That backlash," Shen Lu said, voice carefully controlled. "That's why I'm injured."
Yuan blinked. "Your technique control was sloppy. The formation bit back. You were thrown into a stone outcrop. You coughed blood. You laughed anyway."
Shen Lu's fingers clenched so hard the joints whitened.
He didn't say anything for a long moment. His dry humor deserted him, leaving only the weight of being forced to wear someone else's sin. The worst part was not hearing it. The worst part was believing it easily, because the sect's reaction made it obvious the original Shen Lu had been that kind of person.
"So the outer disciple," Shen Lu said finally, "is alive."
Yuan's gaze held his. "No."
The word fell into the room like a dropped stone.
Shen Lu's breath stopped. "No?"
Yuan's tongue flicked, slow. "He lived long enough to crawl back toward the path. He lived long enough to be found. He lived long enough for the sect to hear his sobbing accusation. Then he died."
Shen Lu's stomach turned.
He had expected cruelty in the book. He had not expected the simple brutality of this sentence: he died. Not as a plot point, not as a paragraph, but as a life ended in the dirt.
"Why didn't the sect execute me immediately?" Shen Lu asked, voice low.
Yuan's eyes gleamed. "Because someone intervened."
Shen Lu looked at the jade vial on the table.
Yuan followed his gaze. "Not the same person, perhaps. But connected."
Shen Lu swallowed. "Who?"
Yuan's tail tip tapped the sill once, an impatient gesture. "An elder in the alchemy hall. One who knows how to make messes disappear. One who knows your reputation is useful."
Shen Lu's jaw tightened. "Elder Liu."
Yuan's eyes narrowed, pleased. "Yes. The man who pretends he doesn't see cruelty as long as the pill stock is full."
Shen Lu's lips twitched despite himself, dry humor slipping through like a splinter. "A very righteous profession."
Yuan made a sound that might have been approval.
Shen Lu stared at the jade vial. "And this pill. You said it isn't poisoned."
"It isn't," Yuan confirmed. "But it carries a tracking mark. When you swallow it, your qi will flare. Whoever placed the mark will feel it. They'll know you used it."
"And then," Shen Lu said slowly, "they'll come."
Yuan's eyes were bright with predatory interest. "Yes."
Shen Lu leaned back in his chair, careful not to move too quickly and aggravate his chest. He stared at the ceiling beams and tried to think like a man with time.
He had no time.
The outer disciple was dead. Helian Feng had been on the northern slope and had witnessed enough to know Shen Lu's involvement. The Discipline Hall investigation wasn't a misunderstanding. It was a delayed sentence.
The only reason Shen Lu wasn't already on his knees in the yard was because Elder Liu had decided Shen Lu could still be used.
And if Elder Liu could use him, so could others.
Shen Lu's mouth curved faintly, humor as thin as paper. "So I'm a villain and a resource."
Yuan's tongue flicked. "Yes."
"Lovely," Shen Lu murmured.
A soft footstep sounded outside the door. Then another. A pause.
Shen Lu stiffened. Yuan lifted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
A knock came.
Not the casual knock of a junior disciple delivering food.
This was controlled. Formal. The kind of knock that expected obedience.
Shen Lu did not answer immediately. He waited, listening for the guards' reaction. They didn't speak. Their silence felt like permission given to whoever was on the other side.
The knock came again, harder.
Shen Lu stood. His chest protested, pain flaring briefly, but he forced himself upright.
He walked to the door and spoke in the tone he imagined the original Shen Lu used when he wanted to remind people of his status.
"What?"
A voice answered, calm and cold.
"Senior Brother Shen. Open the door."
Shen Lu's blood went colder.
He knew that voice.
Helian Feng.
Yuan's body tightened on the sill. Shen Lu felt, rather than saw, the serpent's readiness, the instinct to strike.
Shen Lu thought sharply: Do not.
Yuan's voice slid into his mind, amused. "He came to your cage."
Shen Lu ignored him and placed a hand on the latch.
He opened the door.
Helian Feng stood in the corridor, backlit by morning light. In daylight, his coldness looked even more severe. His robe was neat, his hair tied, his sword hanging at his side like a promise. His eyes were fixed on Shen Lu with the same certainty he'd shown in the Discipline Hall.
Behind Helian Feng stood two disciples from the Discipline Hall, faces blank, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. Not escorts. Witnesses.
Helian Feng looked past Shen Lu into the room. His gaze landed briefly on the table, on the porridge bowl, on the jade vial, then returned to Shen Lu's face.
"You're awake," Helian Feng said, as if Shen Lu's sleep habits mattered.
Shen Lu kept his expression neutral. "Congratulations. Your observational skills remain unmatched."
One of the Discipline Hall disciples stiffened. A flicker of surprise crossed Helian Feng's eyes—less surprise at the sarcasm, more at the fact Shen Lu dared to use it.
Helian Feng's voice stayed flat. "The investigation continues."
Shen Lu leaned lightly against the door frame, posture casual, heart pounding. "I heard."
Helian Feng's gaze sharpened. "You heard. You didn't care."
Shen Lu's mouth twitched, dry humor again, because fear needed somewhere to go. "I'm confined. Caring doesn't change the view."
Helian Feng's eyes darkened.
He stepped forward, stopping just at the threshold. He didn't enter, as if stepping into Shen Lu's room would stain him. "The outer disciple you harmed is dead."
Shen Lu's heartbeat stuttered. Even though Yuan had told him, hearing it from Helian Feng made it real in a different way—heavier, more final, edged with righteous anger.
Shen Lu's voice came out quiet. "I know."
Helian Feng's jaw tightened. "You know."
Shen Lu held his gaze. "I didn't kill him. Not with my hands."
The words were true in the most useless way. The original Shen Lu had done it. Shen Lu, the soul inside, hadn't. But the body was the weapon and the sect would not care about metaphysics.
Helian Feng's eyes were cold enough to freeze breath. "You set the formation."
Shen Lu did not deny it.
Helian Feng's gaze flicked once to the jade vial on the table, then back. "What is that?"
Shen Lu's mouth went dry. If Helian Feng suspected Elder Liu was feeding Shen Lu resources, Helian Feng's distrust would turn to certainty.
Shen Lu lied by omission. "Medicine."
Helian Feng's voice turned sharper. "From whom?"
Shen Lu met his eyes. "From the sect. Isn't that what confinement is supposed to provide?"
Helian Feng's stare held him. For a moment Shen Lu thought Helian Feng might draw his sword and end the conversation permanently.
Then Helian Feng did something worse.
He stepped fully into the room.
Shen Lu's body tensed instinctively. Yuan's presence tightened behind him like a coiled threat.
Helian Feng walked to the table and lifted the jade vial, examining it with the calm of someone who knew exactly how to recognize traps.
Shen Lu's pulse roared in his ears.
Helian Feng turned the vial in the light, eyes narrowing. Then he set it down with controlled care.
"There is a tracking mark," Helian Feng said.
Shen Lu froze.
Yuan's amusement spiked in Shen Lu's mind, like a laugh with teeth. Of course Helian Feng could see it. Heavenly thunder root didn't mean only lightning. It meant sensitivity to the heavens' signatures, to marks and oaths and qi traces.
Helian Feng looked at Shen Lu. "You were given a leash."
Shen Lu kept his face blank. "Maybe I like collars."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Silence slammed into the room. One of the Discipline Hall disciples made a small choking sound, half cough, half disbelief.
Helian Feng's eyes flashed dangerously. "You think this is funny."
Shen Lu's dry humor shrank into something bitter. "No."
Helian Feng stepped closer until he was within arm's reach, his presence pressing down like the moment before thunder breaks.
Shen Lu held his ground anyway, because retreat would make him prey.
Helian Feng's voice dropped. "Who is trying to keep you alive?"
Shen Lu's throat tightened. "Why would anyone try to keep me alive?"
Helian Feng's gaze was sharp. "Because you're useful. Because you have access. Because you're shameless enough to do things others won't do."
Shen Lu didn't deny that either.
Helian Feng's jaw tightened. "The elders are not as righteous as they pretend."
Shen Lu's lips twitched, humor turning into a blade. "Careful. That sounds like doubt."
Helian Feng's stare cut him. "It sounds like reality."
The Discipline Hall disciples behind Helian Feng shifted, uncomfortable with the tone.
Helian Feng glanced toward the door, then back at Shen Lu. "You're coming."
Shen Lu's stomach dropped. "Coming where?"
Helian Feng's voice was flat. "To Elder Liu."
Shen Lu held his gaze. "I thought I was confined."
"You are," Helian Feng said. "But you're also being reassigned."
Shen Lu's pulse kicked hard. "By whose authority?"
Helian Feng's eyes were cold. "By authority you don't have the right to question."
Shen Lu exhaled slowly. "So you're escorting me like a prisoner."
Helian Feng didn't deny it. "Walk."
Shen Lu glanced at Yuan on the sill.
Yuan stared back, eyes bright, smug. In Shen Lu's mind, Yuan said, "So. The sword boy is dragging you to the man with the leash."
Shen Lu thought back, dry even in panic: "Try not to enjoy it."
Yuan's reply was immediate. "I'm enjoying everything."
Shen Lu turned and stepped past Helian Feng, leaving his room—his cage—behind him. The corridor outside felt suddenly wider and more dangerous, because at least in the room he had control of what he could see.
Helian Feng walked half a step behind him, close enough to stop him, far enough to pretend he wasn't guarding him. The Discipline Hall disciples followed like shadows.
As they moved through the sect, Shen Lu felt eyes on him from every courtyard and walkway. Disciples stopped training to stare. Whispers darted behind hands.
They all knew. The outer disciple's death had traveled faster than bells.
The sect remembered every bruise, every humiliation, every abuse of power. It held grudges like it held incense smoke—quietly, endlessly, until someone set the right spark.
Shen Lu kept his face calm. Inside, he counted breaths.
When they reached the alchemy hall, the warmth of furnaces hit him like a wave. Smoke curled from vents. The smell of medicinal roots and bitter powders filled the air.
Elder Liu awaited them in a private room at the back, expression calm as stone.
Helian Feng stopped at the threshold and bowed formally. Shen Lu bowed too, slightly less deep, because this body's instincts rebelled against too much humility.
Elder Liu's eyes flicked over them.
"Helian Feng," Elder Liu said. "You came quickly."
Helian Feng's voice was controlled. "The outer disciple is dead. The Discipline Hall should not delay."
Elder Liu's mouth thinned. "Death is regrettable."
It did not sound regrettable.
Elder Liu's gaze moved to Shen Lu. "Shen Lu. Your confinement was for your protection."
Shen Lu's dry humor rose again, uninvited. "How generous."
Elder Liu's eyes narrowed. "Your tongue is still alive. That is also generous."
Helian Feng's gaze sharpened at the exchange, as if watching two predators circle each other.
Elder Liu folded his hands. "The Discipline Hall is investigating. But investigations take time, and we do not have time."
Helian Feng's voice went colder. "Because a secret realm is opening."
Elder Liu nodded once. "Because a secret realm is opening."
Shen Lu's skin prickled.
Elder Liu continued, calm and efficient. "An immortal bone is rumored inside. The sword lineage wants it. The alchemy hall wants the ingredients around it. The elders want merit and prestige."
His gaze pinned Shen Lu. "And you, Shen Lu, need to earn the right to continue breathing."
Shen Lu held his expression blank.
Elder Liu turned to Helian Feng. "You will lead the team. You will take Shen Lu as alchemy support."
Helian Feng's jaw tightened. "Why him."
Elder Liu's eyes were flat. "Because he is skilled. Because he is expendable. Because if he dies in the realm, the Discipline Hall's problem resolves itself."
Shen Lu's stomach tightened. Even knowing it, hearing it said so plainly felt like ice down the spine.
Helian Feng's gaze snapped to Elder Liu. "That is not righteous."
Elder Liu's mouth curved slightly, almost amused. "Righteousness doesn't retrieve treasures. Results do."
Helian Feng's eyes turned colder. "If he dies under my leadership, it will stain my name."
Elder Liu nodded as if this was a reasonable concern. "Then keep him alive."
Shen Lu's dry humor slipped out again before he could stop it. "How romantic."
Helian Feng's head turned sharply. The Discipline Hall disciples stiffened. Even Elder Liu's eyes flicked with annoyance.
Shen Lu kept his face calm as if he hadn't said anything.
Helian Feng's voice was ice. "Don't speak."
Shen Lu inclined his head. "Yes, Senior Brother."
Helian Feng's eyes narrowed at the deliberate title, as if even respect sounded like mockery from Shen Lu's mouth.
Elder Liu leaned back. "The mission begins in two days. Shen Lu, your whip will remain sealed. You will go unarmed."
Shen Lu's heartbeat spiked. "Unarmed?"
Elder Liu's gaze was cold. "Consider it motivation to behave."
Helian Feng's jaw clenched. "You are sending him to die."
Elder Liu's voice remained calm. "I am sending him to be useful."
Shen Lu met Elder Liu's eyes, and for the first time he understood something with sharp clarity.
Elder Liu did not care whether Shen Lu was guilty or innocent.
Elder Liu only cared whether Shen Lu could be turned into a tool before he was discarded.
Shen Lu's fingers curled inside his sleeves.
He thought of the jade vial in his room. The tracking mark. The leash.
And he realized the sect's righteousness was a painted signboard. Behind it, there were ledgers. Calculations. Sacrifices.
He looked at Helian Feng, the righteous executioner-in-training, and wondered what would happen when Helian Feng finally looked hard enough to see that too.
For now, Helian Feng only saw Shen Lu.
Helian Feng turned toward Shen Lu, eyes cold.
"Two days," Helian Feng said. "If you try anything, I will kill you before the secret realm has the chance."
Shen Lu held his gaze and kept his voice calm. "Understood."
Then, because his dry humor couldn't help itself, he added, "Try not to do it in public. It would ruin the sect's righteous image."
Helian Feng's expression didn't change.
But the air around him crackled faintly, like thunder considering whether to strike.
Shen Lu walked out of the alchemy hall with his fate wrapped in a mission scroll and Helian Feng's shadow at his back.
In his mind, Yuan's voice purred with delighted cruelty.
"You're going to the secret realm," Yuan said. "And you're going to walk beside the man who wants you dead."
Shen Lu kept his face calm and thought back, dry as dust, "I've always wanted to travel."
Yuan laughed silently.
Outside, the sect bells rang again, bright and righteous over a world that had already decided what Shen Lu deserved.