Right after finishing his meal, Liu Xia was called away.
"You. Go to the back mountain."
The one calling him was the old steward in charge of the laborers.
Dark-faced. Short words.
Liu Xia set down his bowl. "For what?"
"Move stuff."
"Move what?"
"Ore."
Liu Xia glanced at him.
He had heard of the back mountain mining area.
It wasn't work meant for humans.
But he didn't ask.
Asking was useless anyway.
"Fine," he said.
—
The back mountain was colder than the front.
The road was harder to walk too.
Too many rocks. Too much dust.
Liu Xia walked for half an hour before reaching the mining area.
A group of laborers was already working there.
Some were carrying stones on their backs. Some were lifting them. Some were dragging them outright.
No one talked.
All you could hear was heavy breathing.
The moment Liu Xia walked over, someone threw a basket at him.
"New guy? Fill it up."
The speaker didn't even look at him.
Liu Xia looked down.
The basket was huge.
The ore inside was black.
A single chunk was already heavy.
He crouched down and picked one up.
Tried lifting it.
Didn't move.
He paused for two seconds.
Then tried again.
Still no.
Someone nearby laughed.
"Quit acting. Take it slow."
Liu Xia didn't respond.
He changed his grip and pushed the ore into the basket.
One piece.
Two pieces.
By the third, his hand slipped.
The ore hit the ground by his foot with a loud thud.
A few people looked over.
"Trash is trash."
Liu Xia said nothing.
He kept moving the ore.
Slow, but steady.
When the basket was about half full—
A hand reached over from behind.
And dumped everything out of his basket.
"You're too slow. You're holding things up."
The voice was cold.
Liu Xia turned around.
A young man stood behind him.
Wearing outer disciple robes.
Even more arrogant than Zhao Heng.
"I'll help you load it again," he said.
His tone sounded like charity.
Then he kicked Liu Xia's basket.
The basket flipped over.
Ore scattered all over the ground.
Liu Xia didn't move.
He looked at the stones on the ground.
Then looked at the man.
"You sick in the head?"
His tone was flat.
The young man froze for a moment.
Then laughed.
"What did you just say?"
Liu Xia didn't repeat himself.
He bent down to pick up the ore.
The moment his hand touched one—
The man stepped down.
His foot landed on the ore, right by Liu Xia's hand.
"I'm talking to you."
Liu Xia's hand stopped.
He looked at that foot.
Then at the other man.
"Don't step on it," he said.
"I am stepping on it. What can you—"
He didn't get to finish.
The young man suddenly stiffened.
His whole body froze, like something had jammed in place.
His expression halted halfway.
His foot was still on the ore.
But he couldn't move.
Liu Xia frowned.
"What's wrong with you now?"
No one answered.
The people around them had stopped too.
They were all looking at the young man.
Something was wrong.
Too quiet.
You couldn't even hear breathing.
Liu Xia stood up and stepped to the side.
"Don't fake it," he said.
The moment the words fell—
The air trembled lightly.
Very lightly.
As if something had swept across from above.
The young man's whole body shuddered violently.
And the next second—
Thump.
He dropped to his knees.
Not like Zhao Heng, pressed down by force.
This time—
It was as if whatever had been holding him upright had been cut away.
His knees hit the ground.
His legs gave out completely.
His face turned deathly pale.
His hands were shaking.
"I... I..."
He couldn't form a full sentence.
Just now, he had felt something.
Not power.
It was—
The very fact that he "should be standing" had been denied.
As if a sword had fallen.
You couldn't see it.
But it had already cut through.
The people around began backing away.
No one dared come closer.
Liu Xia stood there, looking at him.
A little annoyed.
"What's with all of you today?"
He said,
"One by one, either kneeling or zoning out."
No one answered.
The young man kept his head lowered, not daring to look at him again.
Liu Xia couldn't be bothered to care.
He bent down and picked the ore up one piece at a time, putting it back into the basket.
This time, no one touched him.
He filled it up.
Shouldered it.
Heavy.
He stood still for a second, adjusting his balance.
"Coming through," he said.
The people in front of him moved aside on their own.
No one blocked him.
And just like that, he walked off.
—
Far away—
In a space so silent that no sound existed—
A man in white opened his eyes.
He hadn't moved at all just now.
He had only looked once.
"So many people step on him?"
He spoke softly.
His tone carried a trace of impatience.
The next instant—
He raised his hand.
Not to swing a sword.
Just a very simple motion.
As if—
He were cutting something away from someone.
Then he stopped.
Thought for a moment.
"Forget it."
He lowered his hand.
"What he said just now was 'don't step on it.'"
"Not 'kill him.'"
He smiled faintly.
"Then I'll spare his life."
The sword intent disappeared.
As if it had never existed.
—
Back in the mining area—
The young man was still kneeling.
His legs were so weak he couldn't stand.
He could feel it clearly.
In that instant just now—
If he hadn't been "spared,"
he would already be dead.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
And looked in the direction Liu Xia had gone.
That back figure looked completely ordinary.
Even a little thin.
But he didn't dare look a second longer.
—
Liu Xia carried the ore to the assigned spot.
Dumped it down.
Let out a breath.
His shoulders were a bit sore.
He shook out his hands.
"Pretty lucky today," he said.
No one hit him.
No one came looking for trouble again.
He thought that was nice.
As for those two people just now—
He thought about it for a moment.
"They probably had problems of their own."
He nodded.
As if confirming it for himself.
Then he turned around.
And went back to carry the next load.
—
And in places that couldn't be seen—
Someone was speaking in a low voice.
"That just now—was that you?"
"No."
"Then who was it?"
A brief silence.
"Himself."
The air fell silent again.
No one said another word.