The town slowly came into view.
Gray tiles.
Blue bricks.
Quiet.
Ordinary.
Yet—
Alive.
Uchiha Xiuren took a slow breath.
All emotions—
Buried once more.
His expression returned—
Calm.
Ordinary.
Forgettable.
But deep within his eyes—
A faint glimmer remained.
Different from before.
———
"We're here."
Uncle Jiu stopped.
Before a simple residence.
An Eight Trigrams mirror hung above the entrance.
Silent.
Yet—
Heavy with authority.
"Wencai!"
Qiusheng shouted.
"We're back—get out here!"
A young man rushed out.
Smiling—
Simple.
Honest.
But—
The moment his eyes landed on the two Uchiha—
He froze.
"M-Master… who are they?"
"Stop staring."
Uncle Jiu snapped.
"Prepare hot water."
"Glutinous rice."
"This young brother is injured."
"O-Okay!"
Wencai hurried off.
Qiusheng followed.
Still uneasy.
———
Silence.
Uncle Jiu watched.
Thinking.
On the road—
He had heard everything.
Clan.
Hokage.
Nine-Tails.
Masked man.
Too much.
Too precise.
And yet—
They didn't stop him from hearing.
Which meant—
It was intentional.
———
Their strength.
Fire.
Lightning.
Control far beyond ordinary cultivators.
And they were—
Young.
So what about their clan?
Just how deep did it go?
———
Uchiha Mo's voice broke the silence.
"Daoist."
"We spoke carelessly earlier."
"Family matters."
"I hope you don't mind."
Polite.
But—
Confirming everything.
Uncle Jiu's expression remained calm.
"No matter."
"Every family has its troubles."
"If you need help—"
"Speak freely."
———
"I do."
Mo smiled faintly.
But before he could continue—
Qiusheng returned.
"Hot water's ready!"
"We're low on rice—we'll need more."
"Treat the wound first."
Jiu Shu said.
"Other matters later."
"Of course."
———
Steam filled the room.
Mo stepped into the bath.
Warmth spread.
Corpse energy—
Fading.
Uncle Jiu observed silently.
This body…
Was abnormal.
Recovery—
Too fast.
Too stable.
———
"Brother Xiuren."
"Do you require treatment?"
"No need."
Xiuren adjusted his glasses.
"I'm fine."
———
Half an hour later—
The last trace of coldness—
Gone.
Dinner.
Simple.
Yet warm.
But—
Eyes lingered.
Curiosity.
Suspicion.
———
Night.
Study room.
Candlelight flickered.
Talismans covered the walls.
Silence.
Then—
Uncle Jiu spoke.
"You let me hear those things."
"You showed your strength."
"…Now."
"Explain."
The air—
Froze.
———
Mo and Xiuren exchanged a glance.
The testing phase—
Was over.
———
"Daoist."
Mo spoke calmly.
"We have a request."
———
"Our clan…"
"Is on the brink of destruction."
"Internal division."
"External enemies."
"Annihilation…"
"May come within months."
Uncle Jiu didn't interrupt.
But his gaze—
Sharpened.
———
"We need power."
"Any method—"
"That can increase our strength."
"Cannot be ignored."
———
"Your Daoist arts…"
Xiuren continued.
"Operate on principles different from ours."
"That difference—"
"May be the key."
———
"I see."
Uncle Jiu nodded slowly.
"You seek Maoshan techniques."
———
"Exchange."
"Cooperation."
Mo corrected calmly.
"We don't take for free."
"We can trade."
"Or fight for you."
"Or…"
"Become your external force."
Direct.
Clear.
Value—
Displayed.
———
Silence.
Uncle Jiu tapped the table lightly.
His gaze flickered.
Then—
"Impossible."
"Maoshan arts are orthodox."
"To learn them—"
"One must enter the sect."
"Rules cannot be broken."
———
As expected.
Mo's expression didn't change.
Because—
That wasn't the real goal.
———
Xiuren smiled faintly.
"Daoist…"
"You've traveled far."
"Seen much."
"Then you must know…"
"Some methods—"
"Work faster."
———
A sharp glint—
Flashed in Uncle Jiu's eyes.
"You…"
"…seek heterodox techniques?"
———
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
The line—
Had been crossed.
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