Liu Shiye did not go to Liu Mingfei. Leaving the market, he could only return home and began to strip his house of valuables.
He returned to the market before dusk.
This time not as an observer—but a participant.
The traders remembered him only vaguely. An heir's son fallen into illness rarely commanded commercial attention. That anonymity worked in his favor.
He sold carefully.
Not heirlooms that would raise alarm—but items that could be plausibly liquidated without political implication.
Every bundle of fur was offloaded, even the reserve left behind by his father. The weapons in stock were pawned, the boned jewelry and metallic trinkets. Nothing was safe from his thirst for wealth.
In the end, he had enough for toxin-filter herbs. A bone-handled dagger sized for concealment. A sling and iron clippings. A tattered book of Bestial Sensory techniques, poisons and various traps.
By the time he left the market, the weight at his belt felt reassuring—not heavy, but stabilizing. Independence, in its smallest form.
Night approached as he reentered the Liu compound district.
Torches were being lit along the interior paths, their smoke drifting low beneath the damp air. Warriors returned from training pits slick with sweat and mud. Laughter rose from the feast fires where fresh kills were being dressed.
Liu Shiye moved through it unseen.
Until motion near the secondary courtyard caught his eye.
He slowed instinctively.
Two figures stood near the spear totems of the second branch longhouse.
Liu Mingfei—
And Liu Feng.
Liu Shiye remained partially obscured behind a supply rack stacked with shield frames, his presence hidden by shadow and angle rather than deliberate concealment.
He had not intended to eavesdrop.
But he did not leave either.
Mingfei stood close to Liu Feng—closer than simple cousin familiarity required. Her posture, usually sharp and confrontational in training yards, carried a rare softness here.
Concern.
"…you've been inside for days," she was saying. "Even the elders have begun to notice."
Liu Feng did not answer immediately.
He stood with hands clasped behind his back, gaze directed not at her—but at the torch flame swaying nearby.
"I've had matters to consider," he replied at last.
His tone was calm.
Measured.
But something about it felt… distant.
Mingfei frowned. "You used to visit Xue Ruo daily. Now you've stopped entirely. The Xue attendants are whispering."
Still no immediate response.
"I will visit when necessary," Liu Feng said finally.
Necessary.
Not desired.
Not promised.
The wording was clinical.
Liu Shiye's eyes narrowed slightly from the shadows.
Mingfei studied him carefully. "You're changing, Feng."
That drew a faint smile from him.
Not warm.
Not amused.
Controlled.
"Everyone changes when responsibility settles on their shoulders."
Footsteps approached along the adjacent corridor—servants carrying water basins. Liu Shiye shifted subtly deeper into cover as they passed.
Their hushed gossip drifted clearly in the torchlit quiet.
"Strange, isn't it…"
"He hasn't left the compound in days…"
"Not even to see his betrothed…"
"Ever since the heir rites…"
"…it's like he became another person."
The attendants moved on, whispers fading.
But the words lingered.
Another person.
Liu Shiye's focus returned fully to Liu Feng.
Now that he watched closely—truly watched—the differences became more apparent.
Posture too straight.
Stillness too deliberate.
His gaze lingered on objects, exits, distances—not people.
Even in conversation, Liu Feng seemed to observe rather than engage.
Analyzing.
Measuring.
Detached from the tribal emotional immediacy that defined most warriors of the Tiger Blood Tribe.
The sensation that crept into Liu Shiye's thoughts was subtle—but undeniable.
Familiar.
Not in memory.
In nature.
Recognition without introduction.
His mind traced the implications rapidly.
The poisoning.
His survival.
His awakening into a different consciousness.
Now Liu Feng—Withdrawn.
Changed.
Strategic in speech.
Reduced emotional display.
A thought surfaced unbidden: Is he… like me?
Not necessarily reincarnated.
But altered.
Awakened.
Reforged mentally through death, trauma, or some external catalyst.
If Liu Feng had changed recently—
When?
Why?
And did it connect to the silent faction war tightening around the Liu family?
Mingfei said something else, softer this time, but Liu Shiye no longer listened.
His attention had narrowed entirely onto Liu Feng's eyes as the heir finally turned slightly toward the courtyard torchlight.
Cold.
Focused.
Calculating in a way that did not belong to a barbarian war scion raised purely in tribal culture.
For the briefest instant—
Liu Feng's gaze flicked toward the supply rack where Liu Shiye stood concealed.
Not directly.
But close enough that instinct flared.
A pause.
A fractional narrowing of his eyes.
Then he looked away as if nothing had happened.
But Liu Shiye knew. He had felt it. The same way predators sensed each other in tall grass without needing sight. Recognition. Unspoken. Dangerous.
By the time Mingfei and Liu Feng parted ways, Liu Shiye was already moving—silent, controlled, thoughts accelerating far faster than his footsteps.
The political war he had awakened into was no longer simple factional maneuvering.
If Liu Feng truly had become something different—
Then the Liu succession struggle was not merely a contest of bloodlines and marriages.
It was a contest of minds.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
Liu Shiye felt the presence of another player on the board.
______________________________________________________
Time passed quickly within the training pits.
The dugout assigned to the healers lay half-buried beneath packed earth and timber beams, its low ceiling stained black from years of smoke. During the day it reeked of blood, crushed herbs, and sweat. Now, in the quiet of night, only the faint bitterness of medicinal ash lingered. A bronze basin sat at the center, flames licking steadily upward, casting wavering shadows along the walls.
Liu Shiye sat cross-legged beside the fire, one knee raised, a scroll balanced against it. The orange light sharpened the angles of his face while the rest of him faded into darkness. Outside, distant training drums echoed faintly — slow, rhythmic, like a heartbeat buried beneath soil.
He turned another page.
The techniques were foreign, structured differently from the tribal methods of Corpse Mountain. Efficient. Precise. Ruthless in simplicity.
Earlier, after returning home to store the beasts he had hunted, he had discovered the package waiting at his door — wrapped in oilcloth, untouched by dust as if it had appeared moments before his arrival.
No footprints. No scent.
Only intent.
He had opened it cautiously, blade ready.
A scroll made of pure white bone slats appeared, bound by a red tassel. A vertical line of character etched with emerald brilliance was read, "Three score war healer bones."
A thin manual titled Paragon's Flick Technique.
And another — thicker, written in his mother's native language— Medjay Bow Arts.
At the bottom lay a letter atop of a thick book with oak wood covers.
Now, illuminated by trembling firelight, Liu Shiye reread its contents slowly.
Little friend of Heka, my people have gathered much information about you. As you know, we traders are kept at a distance, especially us from Alkebulan since corpse mountain is held in part by Persia. Your mother, rest her soul, was one of the few that made this place a home. Still, you are of Heka and you obviously need assistance. In three days, I will board a ship and return to Alkebulan and tell your grandfather of your existence. In the meantime, the Three Score War Healer Bones will ensure you no longer fall to poisons, the Flick technique is the basics of hidden weapon arts, and the Medjay, a special unit in Nubia, have the best bow skills in Alkebulan. Their skill will ensure your archery can match the best of corpse mountain. Little friend of Heka, stay safe.
His eyes moved steadily across the words.
The traders from Alkebulan. His mother. Persia's influence over Corpse Mountain. A grandfather he had never known.
He exhaled softly.
"So… even ghosts leave debts behind," he murmured.
The flames crackled as he finished the letter. For a moment, he simply stared into the fire, thoughts aligning one after another like pieces on a board.
A faint disturbance brushed the edge of his perception.
Not sound.
Absence.
The shadows behind him thickened unnaturally.
Liu Shiye did not turn immediately. Instead, he folded the letter once, twice, then calmly tossed it into the basin. Paper curled, blackened, and vanished into sparks.
Only then did he speak, "Lady Xue…"
He turned his head slightly, gaze sliding toward the rear wall.
The shadows thickened unnaturally, stretching upward like liquid silk pulled by unseen hands.
Shadows… what an odd technique of the Xue family, he thought calmly.
A figure stepped forward.
Xue Ruo emerged from darkness as though she had always been standing there — tall, poised, terrifyingly composed. Her robes flowed like spilled ink, barely rustling as she moved. In her hand rested a narrow blood-red knife, its polished surface reflecting firelight in thin crimson streaks.
Her eyes glowed faintly red.
Focused entirely on him.
"Forgotten heir," she said, tilting her head as her gaze swept over him slowly, assessing posture, breathing, distance. "Why have you called for me?"
She began circling him, steps soundless against packed earth.
Liu Shiye remained seated, hands resting loosely on his knee.
"You already know why," he said evenly, glancing back toward the fire. "You simply wish to confirm whether I understand it myself."
Her lips curved faintly as she stopped behind him.
"Bold," she murmured, twirling the knife lazily between her fingers. "Most men tremble when I arrive."
"Most men," Liu Shiye replied, turning slightly to face her, "mistake beauty for mercy."
Her movement stilled.
The knife stopped spinning.
Interest flickered across her face.
He rose slowly to his feet, brushing dust from his sleeves with deliberate calm.
"You own Liu Feng," he said.
The air tightened instantly.
Xue Ruo's smile vanished.
"And in the future," Liu Shiye continued, folding his hands behind his back as if discussing weather, "the Liu family will belong to the Xue clan. That has always been the goal."
Her knife lifted slightly.
The flames in the basin guttered as killing intent brushed the room.
"Careful," she said softly, stepping closer until only an arm's length separated them. "Understanding politics does not grant permission to speak them aloud."
Liu Shiye gave a small shrug.
"An old proverb," he said, raising a finger slightly as though lecturing. "When everyone pretends blindness, the one who opens his eyes becomes dangerous."
She studied him silently.
No longer amused.
"And you believe you are dangerous?" she asked.
"I believe ignorance is fatal," he replied. He gestured toward the healer bones beside the fire. "I nearly died recently. That encourages clarity."
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the bones.
"What do you want?" she asked, voice flattening.
"Information."
She laughed softly, circling again, blade trailing lightly through the air.
"You summoned me… for questions?"
"For truth," Liu Shiye corrected, turning with her so she never reached his blind spot. "Questions are merely tools."
He stepped closer to the basin, light illuminating half his face.
"You support Liu Feng because he is controllable," he continued. "Ambitious. Insecure. A man who mistakes borrowed authority for personal strength."
Her eyes narrowed slightly — confirmation without admission.
"In debate," Liu Shiye said calmly, pacing slowly, "one does not attack a claim. One reveals its assumptions."
He stopped walking.
"That Liu Feng will live long enough to remain useful."
The knife flashed.
In an instant, its tip hovered at his throat.
Xue Ruo leaned forward, red eyes blazing.
"So," she whispered, "you called me here to insult my judgment?"
Liu Shiye did not move.
Did not swallow.
"No," he said quietly. "I called you because someone poisoned me."
A flicker.
Tiny.
But real.
He pressed forward immediately.
"Not Ouyang," he said, raising a hand slightly as if dismissing the idea. "The eldest daughter strategy requires marriage alliances. Killing me removes leverage."
He began pacing again, voice thoughtful.
"Not the elders. Too crude."
He turned back toward her.
"Only someone who sees me as an obstacle rather than an opportunity would attempt it."
Her grip tightened slightly on the knife.
"You imply much," she said coldly.
"I imply nothing," he replied. "I calculate."
He tilted his head slightly.
"What if my fiancée found a better fiancé?"
The words landed heavily.
"And does that fiancé," he added softly, watching her reaction closely, "feel the same?"
Killing intent burst outward.
The basin flames surged violently.
"If Liu Feng dares betray the Xue clan—"
Her knife slammed into a wooden support beside Liu Shiye's head with a violent crack, splinters scattering across his shoulder.
"I will eviscerate him."
Her voice carried absolute certainty.
Breathing slow, controlled.
Then—
She laughed.
Sharp and dismissive.
Pulling the blade free, she flicked splinters from its edge.
"Impossible," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Liu Feng lacks the courage for such schemes."
Yet her eyes lingered on Liu Shiye longer than before.
Calculating.
Re-evaluating.
Seeds taking root.
Liu Shiye smiled faintly.
"I did not say he acted," he said mildly, lowering himself back to sit beside the fire. "Only that possibilities exist."
Silence filled the dugout.
The fire crackled loudly between them.
Two predators considering the same uncertainty.
Finally, shadows gathered around Xue Ruo's feet once more.
"You are troublesome," she said, stepping backward as darkness climbed her form. "Far more than reports suggested."
"And you," Liu Shiye replied, opening the manual again without looking up, "are wiser than your reputation allows."
Her lips curved faintly.
"Careful, forgotten heir," she said as her body dissolved into shadow. "Flattery is a dangerous weapon."
"So is ignorance."
Her voice lingered after her form vanished.
"If your suspicion proves true… Corpse Mountain will bleed."
The shadows collapsed.
Gone.
Only firelight remained.
Liu Shiye exhaled slowly, turning another page of the Paragon's Flick Technique.
Outside, the wind howled faintly across the pits.
Suspicion had been planted.
Whether Liu Feng plotted assassination no longer mattered.
Xue Ruo would investigate.
And doubt alone could destroy a man faster than poison ever could.
Liu Shiye's eyes gleamed faintly in the firelight.
"Let the wolves test each other," he murmured.
The flames answered with a quiet crackle as unseen currents within the Liu clan began to shift.