A Song For The Ages

Two weeks passed since the Red Lotus Mercenaries had seized control of White Sand City.

The city had settled into an uneasy rhythm under the shadow of their new rulers. For most of the civilians, survival mattered more than allegiance. As long as food filled their bowls and roofs sheltered their heads, they learned to bow to the new banners quickly enough.

Feiyin had not let the time slip away. Each day, he trained and refined with relentless focus. Every night, he wandered the streets in secret, hidden beneath the hood of his robe, quietly assisting those in need. A few pills slipped into the hands of a feverish child. A salve left on the doorstep of a coughing elder.

He built a fragile bridge to the city's people, a silent promise that not all cultivators brought only bloodshed.

Meanwhile, within the Red Lotus camp, Feiyin moved carefully.

He introduced himself to each of the inner disciples, always smiling, always respectful. To the burly Ba Shanyue of the Saint Body Branch, he gifted a powerful body-forging pill, subtly crafted to increase marrow density. To Ruan Lianhua, the cold-blooded beauty of the Saint Blood Branch, he offered a vitality-replenishing pill, to which she barely nodded in acknowledgment before vanishing into the shadows once more.

And then,

Feng Liu.

Feiyin found him lounging in the city's grand square, basking under the sun like a lazy predator.

"Junior Feiyin greets Senior Feng," he said with a wide, guileless smile, extending a small jade bottle. "I refined a batch of cultivation-aiding pills. I hope Senior will accept this humble gift."

Feng Liu raised a brow, his perfect features breaking into a charming, languid grin.

"Oh? An alchemist, and polite too. I like you," he said, taking the bottle and swirling its contents thoughtfully. His blue eyes gleamed with mirth, and something darker.

"You remind me of myself, back when I first got dragged into the Sect," Feng Liu said, chuckling. "Pretty face, fresh eyes, alluring body."

Feiyin kept his smile fixed in place, though every word felt like a blade against his skin.

"Back then, they threw me into the 'care' of an outer disciple," Feng continued, voice turning low and venomous. "She drained me every day, of my yang, my spirit."

He laughed, a horrible, bitter sound, while madness stemmed from the depth of his eyes.

"Most would have died. But lucky me, I had a special Yang physique. I survived, and grew stronger, until the day I cut her throat myself."

A crazed smile spread on his face, "Watching the life dimming from her beautiful blue eyes was so beautiful, I couldn't help myself, so I took them out as a memento."

He leaned closer, tapping Feiyin's chest lightly.

"You're lucky, kid. You've gone this long without anyone snatching you up."

Feiyin forced a light chuckle, lowering his eyes with apparent shyness.

"Senior flatters me. I only hope to follow your footsteps one day."

"Good," Feng Liu said, straightening. "We'll see if you survive long enough."

Feiyin bowed again, retreating smoothly.

Inside, he seethed.

Shock at the horror Feng Liu survived, disgust at what the sect promoted, and finally, rage, white-hot and cold all at once.

You may have suffered greatly, but that doesn't allow you to inflict even worse on Hui!

How could you choose to become the same monster?

He clenched his fists as he turned around a corner.

Ba Shanyue was simple, he respected strength above all else. So when Feiyin first introduced himself, he didn't rely solely on courteous words or offerings. During their first meeting, Feiyin discreetly revealed a hint of his tempered physique, letting his aura bleed through for a moment, showing the undeniable signs of a deeply refined and resilient body. It wasn't something visible to the casual eye, but a seasoned fighter like Ba Shanyue could immediately recognize the signs, the tightness of muscles, the heaviness of presence, the control in his steps.

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Though as someone who's as straightforward as a mountain, he wasn't satisfied with words or pills alone, he wanted to know how strong the alchemist in front of him was.

One afternoon, while a group of disciples were gathered near the city's makeshift training grounds, he clapped a massive hand on Feiyin's shoulder and grinned, flashing his broad teeth.

"Little Alchemist," he said in a booming voice, causing a few nearby heads to turn, "how about we see if your bones are as strong as your pills?"

Feiyin blinked, feigning hesitation for a moment. "Senior Shanyue, I'm but a humble alchemist. How could I possibly..."

"Bah!" Ba Shanyue laughed. "Don't worry. I won't break you. It's just a friendly match. You won't lose face if you can't beat me, I'm half-giant, after all."

More disciples gathered around, sensing entertainment.

Feiyin smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Well... if Senior insists."

They sat opposite each other at a nearby stone table, their elbows pressing down with a loud thud that cracked the stone slightly.

Ba Shanyue's hand engulfed Feiyin's entirely, his palm wide and calloused like the bark of an ancient tree.

"Ready?" Ba Shanyue grinned.

Feiyin nodded.

The match began.

Instantly, Feiyin felt the tremendous pressure from Ba Shanyue's strength, it was like grappling with a mountain. Yet, slowly, he began channeling his tempered internal force, guiding it subtly through his arm without fully revealing his true strength.

He could have pushed back easily, but no, that would raise suspicion. Instead, he gave Ba Shanyue just enough resistance to surprise him.

The giant disciple's eyes widened slightly, his grin turning feral. "Not bad, not bad!"

Feiyin maintained his facade, letting his hand tremble slightly, the veins in his arm popping in strain, before slowly letting Ba Shanyue overpower him.

Thunk.

His hand hit the table.

Cheers and laughter erupted around them.

Ba Shanyue laughed heartily, slapping Feiyin on the back so hard he nearly flew off his chair.

"Good sport!" he bellowed. "Cai Feiyin, You're strong for an alchemist. You're alright in my book!"

Feiyin chuckled good-naturedly, pretending to wince and rub his hand. "Senior is truly worthy of respect. Half-giant blood is no joke!"

The armwrestling match did exactly what Feiyin intended, it built bonds without raising red flags about his real capabilities. In the eyes of the disciples around him, he remained the "tough little alchemist", nothing more, nothing less.

Inside, Feiyin was satisfied. Every small seed of goodwill he planted today might become a life-saving shield tomorrow.

Ruan Lianhua remained a different challenge altogether. She was distant, her aura sharp and cold like a blade left forgotten under the snow. Feiyin observed her through his oscillation sense, which painted an even starker image, no layers of emotions, no conflicts, no ambitions. Only a chilling sense of duty, bloodlust honed to the point of emptiness.

During the few brief interactions he managed to initiate, she was curt but not hostile. He realized then, that Ruan Lianhua wasn't driven by personal hatred or desire. She was simply an aimless weapon, a sword that was discarded by its master, now wielding herself by the only thing she knew, the rules of the sect.

She lived by them, killed by them, and perhaps would one day die by them.

Feiyin, seeing this, grew cautious. A weapon like her could either become a shield or a blade turned against him, depending solely on how well he navigated their future paths.

The one he actually enjoyed talking to was Jue Qingling, the bright golden-haired Beast Tamer, who proved far more sociable. They spoke often of techniques and beasts, with Baiyu coiling proudly on Feiyin's shoulders.

"She's a special one," Qingling said one evening, admiring Baiyu. "Not often you see a beast choose a bond like this."

Feiyin smiled, stroking Baiyu's crystalline scales.

"She's family."

Through these conversations, he gleaned more about the Warring States Region, fractured city-states, roving mercenary groups, hidden sects licking their wounds, warlords vying for power. All competing for supremacy.

This was a perfect collecting ground for the sect, so missions such as this one were sometimes issued to maintain the chaos infesting the region.

His own cultivation advanced rapidly.

Thanks to his three powerful dantians and pure 100% refined recovery pills, he had opened 30 more acupoints in the span of two weeks, a pace that would have left ordinary cultivators gaping in disbelief.

Every accupoint opened widened his connection to the world, allowing him to draw in Essence faster, refine it more purely, and unleash it with greater precision.

He could feel it, his body growing stronger, his spiritual sense deepening, his oscillation sense sharpening.

Then, two weeks after their brutal seizure of White Sand City, a messenger arrived.

They gathered in the newly claimed central plaza, where the mountain-like inner disciple Ba Shanyue stood tall, reading the unsealed scroll aloud.

"Mission commission: The Red Lotus Mercenaries have been formally requested to intervene in the region of Broken Rock Plains. Payment to be discussed upon successful operation."

Murmurs rose from the crowd. A real mission, a real step into the Warring States' chaotic dance.

Feiyin's heart thudded once.

The game had begun.

He adjusted his red lotus robe, feeling Baiyu shift around his shoulders.

"Ready, girl?" he whispered.

The little snake hissed softly, a sound only he could hear.

Ready.