All the village folk were gathered around his cart, pressing in like moths to a flame.

  Jin Tao dropped the sides down with a theatrical flourish, revealing what looked like a trove of goods packed tight into the space. Weapons, armour, dried goods, farming tools, anything the village could possibly need and more.

  He started pulling items out of the chest like some traveling magician, laying them neatly along the edges of the cart as makeshift counters.

  “Step right up to Jin Tao’s Travelling Merchandise!” he announced, grinning wide and throwing his arms out. “And don’t worry about the name,” he added with a wink. “It’s a work in progress.”

  The crowd surged forward, bartering and trading with the desperation of people who knew how thin the line between life and death could stretch.

  It seemed whatever someone asked for, he had it.

  I caught Fi Yan, the loud little menace that she was, trying to sneak closer for a better look. She crept low along the side of the cart, half-hidden by the villagers.

  Our eyes met.

  She froze like a deer caught in headlights.

  Then bolted.

  I sighed. “Bloody hell.”

  Once the chaos settled and most of the goods had been sold or bartered off, Jin Tao casually flipped the sides of the cart back up, whistling a low, merry tune.

  He jiggled his purse once before tossing it lazily into the chest alongside a few sparkling trinkets he must have wheedled out of desperate hands.

  It seemed for now at least the threat of beasts had been forgotten.

  Laughter drifted across the square.

  Someone started singing a rough tune.

  People poured toward The Crooked Reed, clapping each other on the shoulders, carrying their new blades and tools with renewed hope.

  Only a few stayed behind to keep watch at the barricade.

  I made my way inside the tavern, the worn floorboards creaking underfoot.

  The air was thick with smoke and the sharper scent of alcohol.

  One of the villagers shoved a gourd in my hand before stumbling off into the crowd.

  I looked at the wine, meh, It wouldn’t hurt.

  Might even be the last drink I have.

  I pulled the stopper, took a slow swig, and let the burn slide down my throat.

  The gourd hung loosely from my hand as I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the noise of the tavern swirl around me.

  It was louder than I’d ever heard it.

  Laughter spilled out into the streets. The Crooked Reed’s old sign swung wildly in the night breeze, creaking like it was trying to dance along with the music inside. As I looked around I was once again reminded of how out of place I was in this world. The old log walls and lanterns covered the room. A big downgrade from insulation and electricity.

  Oh god, how I missed electricity. Almost as much as my sister.

  I leaned back against the wall just outside the door, sipping from the gourd I’d taken earlier. The weight of the sabre at my hip was a constant reminder that this celebration was built on borrowed time.

  The beasts hadn’t gone anywhere. They were still out there, waiting in the trees, waiting for us to drop our guard.

  Across the square, Jin Tao leaned casually against his cart, one boot braced on the wheel, twirling a coin between his fingers like he had all the time in the world. His traveling chest was locked again, its surface gleaming faintly under the lanterns. He caught my glance, offered a lazy two-fingered salute, and smirked.

  I had to admit, without his arrival, spirits would be a lot lower right now. It seemed he got here right on time. To offer these people a better opportunity to fight. And a persons state of mind done wonders when it comes to survival.

  I sighed and pushed off the wall. Might as well enjoy the few quiet moments we had left.

  Inside, the tavern was packed wall-to-wall. Hunters, farmers, even a few elders crammed into the rough wooden benches, nursing cups and passing plates heaped with dumplings and grilled fish. Someone had dragged out a battered old lute, and a group was singing badly out of tune in the corner.

  I slid into an empty seat near the wall. Looking around the room I realised I didn’t actually really know anyone here. It was a sobering thought and made me miss home.

  The gourd was half empty before I even realized it. The warmth was good, though. Helped dull the ache that still lingered deep in my side.

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  I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

  Jin Tao sauntered through the crowd, weaving easily between tables and shoulders. Somehow, without even trying, the drunken hunters and farmers shifted aside for him, making a path.

  He reached my table and gave a theatrical bow. “Good evening Young Master”

  Then, without waiting for an invitation, he slid into the seat opposite me.

  For a moment, he said nothing. Just leaned back, balancing on the back legs of the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Then he gestured loosely around the tavern with one hand.

  “All of them,” he said, voice light and conversational. “They’re going to die.”

  I stared at him, setting the gourd down slowly.

  “What did you just say.”

  He smiled wider.

  “I saw the horde,” he continued, voice still lazy, still too casual. “Before I got here. Further south, moving through the broken fields like a black tide. Beasts of every kind. Being led by a spirit beast.”

  He spun a coin across his knuckles, watching it flash in the lamplight.

  “Do you know what they are? Spirit beasts I mean.”

  I shook my head. Hating my ignorance of this world.

  Jin Tao dropped the coin into his palm and snapped it shut.

  “There awakened. Think of it like a mortal man compared to a Qi Refinement cultivator, a beast is just a beast. But when they evolve and become a spirit beast… well that’s just a whole other level.”

  “There’s no way out of this one, brother,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “No walls high enough. No gates strong enough. No city guards riding to the rescue. You all stay here, you fight. Or you all die. Simple.”

  I tightened my hand around the handle of my sabre.

  “So the Mistfang hounds, they are just a beast?” I said quietly, dreading the answer.

  He laughed—a soft, genuine sound.

  “Indeed, Brother Fang, indeed”

  He leaned forward again until only the table separated us.

  “But you…” he said, voice dropping lower. “You could change the fate of everyone here.”

  Before I could answer, he reached into his coat and pulled something out.

  A small, round pill. No bigger than a thumbprint. It glimmered faintly under the tavern’s flickering light. Not just any pill either. It radiated a soft golden warmth that prickled against my skin even from across the table.

  He twirled it between two fingers, lazy as ever.

  “With this,” he said, almost reverently, “you’d stand a chance. A real chance. It’ll push you past your limits. Awaken things you didn’t even know you had inside.”

  The pill danced between his fingers like a living thing. I could see the golden Qi radiating off it.

  “But,” Jin Tao said, letting the word stretch out, “everything comes with a price.”

  He stopped spinning the pill. Held it between thumb and forefinger, just above the table.

  “One favor,” he said. “No tricks. No games. I call on you someday, and you answer. No matter what I ask.”

  His smile sharpened.

  “A merchant’s bond. Not something we break lightly.”

  He set the pill down in the center of the table with a soft tap.

  I stared, transfixed for a second, before meeting his eyes once more. “My mum said not to take candy from strangers.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. We won’t always be strangers, and this isn’t candy. This is power.”

  Shit, bastard. I decided I don’t like him very much.

  Jin Tao didn’t move. He was leaning back casually in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Something about that smile made my hackles rise.

  “You’re awfully generous for a man who said we’re all doomed,” I said, voice low.

  Jin Tao chuckled lightly, swirling a cup of rice wine in his hand. “Generosity? No, no, my friend. It’s business.”

  “You expect me to believe you just happened to show up here, in the middle of nowhere, at exactly the right time?” I said. “With exactly what I need?”

  His grin widened. “Isn’t fate wonderful?”

  I scoffed and leaned forward. “What’s the real price?”

  Jin Tao’s eyes gleamed with something sharp beneath the amusement.

  “I already told you,” he said simply. “A favor. One day, when the time comes, I’ll ask something of you. And you’ll say yes.”

  I held his gaze.

  “You’re asking me to sell my future for a maybe.”

  He shrugged. “I’m offering you a future at all.”

  For a long moment, we just stared at each other.

  The smart thing, the safe thing, was to walk away.

  But survival had never been about playing safe and I wasn’t very smart.

  I had been about clawing, fighting, bleeding for one more step forward.

  I dropped my eyes to the pill.

  “Think it over, Fang Wu.”

  Then he stood up, adjusted his coat with a practiced flick, and turned away.

  As he melted back into the crowd, I sat there staring at the small golden pill glinting in the tavern light.

  It was small. Perfectly round. Glossy like polished jade. It seemed to hum with energy, tugging at something deep inside me.

  If I took it if I swallowed this piece of strength would it really be enough to break me out of the Mortal bounds?

  Would it lift me into what everyone in this world called a true cultivator?

  Maybe.

  But at what cost?

  My fingers hovered near it, close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from its surface.

  Jin Tao’s words still rang in my ears.

  You could save them.

  Save the village. Save the people I barely knew.

  I thought of Wei Lin, of Fi Yan. Of Master Kai barking orders. Of Lian Mei’s scowl and Lian Rui’s soft-spoken smiles.

  Good people.

  But not my people.

  They weren’t Elise.

  They weren’t my mother.

  I clenched my jaw and tore my gaze away from the pill, looking around the dim tavern.

  A part of me whispered that it was foolish.

  Take the pill for them? Risk a debt to Jin Tao for strangers?

  I almost turned away.

  Almost.

  But my hand moved to the pill instead and I pulled up the familiar shimmer of the system window.

  And there it was.

  The quest.

  The next step.

  The reason I’d been fighting since the moment I arrived in this world.

  Quest Generated

  Objective: Reach Qi Refinement Stage

  Reward: Cultivation Manual

  I swallowed thickly.

  This wasn’t about them.

  It had never been about them.

  It was about Elise.

  It was about home.

  It was about surviving long enough to see the world I left behind again.

  And in my hand…

  I held the key.

  My fingers curled around the pill.

  No matter what came after, no matter what favor Jin Tao demanded, I needed this.

  I wanted this.

  The ache for more burned through me hotter than fear.

  My resolve hardened.

  Fuck it.

  I stood up from the table, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. No one paid me any mind, the tavern buzzed too loud, filled with drink and false celebration.

  Good.

  Let them celebrate a little longer.

  I stalked out of the tavern, the door swinging wide behind me and slamming shut against the cool evening air.

  The pill was warm in my palm.

  Waiting.

  And this time, I wasn’t doing it for them.

  I was doing it for me.

  For the chance to progress.