"Both choices lead to the same result," Tao Mu muttered coldly. "It's better to instill fear in that organization—at least for a time. Just long enough for us to crush those Jiang weasels… or gain the upper hand."
Without hesitation, he snapped the struggling spy's neck, letting the lifeless body drop to the ground. One by one, he executed the others, leaving no survivors. When he was done, he carefully destroyed the corpses and erased every trace of his presence—no blood, no scent, no lingering spiritual energy.
He didn't stop there. Using misdirection techniques, he laid false trails—scattered pieces of clothing, misleading footprints, even traces of unfamiliar spiritual signatures—to send their organization on a wild chase.
"As long as they don't discover the mine's location, we should be safe," Tao Mu thought, eyes narrowing. "The Jiang Clan isn't foolish enough to expose it. They want it for themselves. They wouldn't risk letting other powers catch wind of its existence and come vying for control."
With that, Tao Mu vanished into the forest, following the trail of the trio as he silently returned to the mine.
Back at the mine, Lin Shu lay resting inside a tent. The self-inflicted wounds on his body had already begun to heal, thanks to his formidable physique and cultivation. Despite the bruises, scratches, and the blackened eye he gave himself, his body was recovering faster than most.
In his hand, he held the Burning Vein Art—a dangerous and controversial technique.
He planned to learn it in the coming weeks, though he knew progress would be slow. Missions would interrupt his training, and more importantly, he couldn't risk practicing the technique in front of others. If anyone recognized it, they might report him—or worse, try to sell him to the Chi Clan.
And if that happened, Lin Shu knew… he'd be as good as dead.
He stared at the scroll, unmoving, his eyes burning with quiet resolve.
I'll master this art, he thought, but I'll have to be careful. I can only train when I'm completely alone. No one can know.
Lin Shu sat cross-legged in the tent, the Burning Vein Art scroll unrolled before him, its characters glowing faintly under the dim lantern light. He drew in a slow breath and began circulating his Qi according to the manual's intricate flowchart. Threads of inner energy stirred within his meridians, drawn toward specific acupoints to ignite a controlled blaze deep within his body.
It was not ordinary fire.
This internal flame—born of will, Qi, and pain—was meant to suffuse his muscles, bones, and flesh in a regenerative inferno. The technique forged a sea of flames within the cultivator's own blood vessels, burning away impurities and knitting wounds together by stimulating cellular rebirth through Qi combustion. Even minor failure could result in internal burns or Qi deviation.
As the first wave of heat surged through his body, Lin Shu's breath hitched, sweat pearling on his forehead. "This is… quite difficult," he muttered between clenched teeth.
He realized something crucial then. Learning to activate the art was merely the first threshold—one he could pass with enough repetition and focus. But true mastery wasn't about activation. It was about control. He needed to wield the Burning Vein Art as naturally as drawing breath, weaving it into battle without thought or hesitation, letting it mend his body mid-fight as if it were instinct.
That was the realm he sought: seamless integration.
Yet, he estimated it would take at least two uninterrupted weeks of focused cultivation to reach that level of proficiency. In his current circumstances—with missions constantly pulling him away, and the necessity to hide this forbidden technique from prying eyes—it might take him closer to two months.
Still, Lin Shu's expression remained calm, eyes unwavering.
So be it. I'll endure it all. But I will master this art, no matter how long it takes.
While Lin Shu remained secluded, honing the Burning Vein Art in silence, the trio of Han Yi, Zeng Shiyang, and Xie Lang arrived at the mine gates. The guards recognized them and allowed them entry without delay. Wasting no time, they made their way toward the main command tent, their pace brisk, expressions wary.
Outside the tent stood Vice Dean Lu Heng, speaking in low tones to another instructor—none other than Tao Mu, who had clearly arrived before them. As the trio approached, the vice dean's gaze snapped to them, calm yet razor-sharp.
"Get in. Now," he said, voice low and composed.
But that very calmness chilled their blood.
They exchanged glances. He already knew. Of course he did—Tao Mu must have been following them. There was no other way the vice dean could have known.
Inside the tent, the air was heavy. The vice dean didn't even bother sitting down. He stood with arms behind his back, eyes hard.
"Tell me everything," he said. "And you'd better have a good explanation for what I just heard from Instructor Tao Mu."
Zeng Shiyang sighed. There was no avoiding this. He stepped forward and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment.
"Sir, this is what happened…"
He laid out the sequence of events: how they had gone to Ya Fen in search of information about the Yan twins, how they discovered the twins had joined the Jiang Clan, and—most critically—how they believed someone had started following them after that visit. He emphasized the moment Xie Lang, perhaps unknowingly, had muttered a curse under his breath toward the Jiang Clan—loud enough, perhaps, for Ya Fen or someone else to hear.
Xie Lang then tried to defend himself, flustered.
"I didn't mean it like that, Vice Dean. It could've sounded like I was cursing the twins or just our luck… it wasn't directed at the clan specifically…"
His voice faltered as he realized how thin his defense was.
Lu Heng said nothing for a moment. Instead, he placed a hand on his chin, eyes narrowing in thought.
"What do you three think the name Stone Path Hall implies?" Lu Heng's voice was calm, but each word carried weight.
He didn't wait for an answer.
"It means the path of commitment and resolve. A path that cannot be shaken by mere emotions. Do you truly believe the missions I assign you are meaningless?" His gaze swept over the three of them. "Every mission is a test—of patience, emotional control, teamwork. These are the values we uphold here: restraint, discipline, and camaraderie."
His tone darkened, and his eyes locked onto Xie Lang.
"Xie Lang, you failed your test. I'm well aware of your grudge against the Yan twins—did you think I didn't know? Why else would I have chosen you for this mission? It was a test of your control, your maturity. And you failed it. You let your mouth betray your thoughts in front of a man like Ya Fen—a man who lives off the weaknesses of others. You gave him a thread, and he will unravel the whole tapestry."
Xie Lang winced, lowering his head slightly.
"For that, you will serve an undisclosed number of work hours. Menial labor—cleaning, carrying supplies, servant duties. Perhaps a little humiliation will teach you where discipline failed."
Xie Lang's mouth opened slightly, perhaps to defend himself or plead for a lighter punishment—but Lu Heng shut down the opportunity without even looking at him.
"You're dismissed."
A gust of wind erupted beside them. Tao Mu flicked his hand, and a blade of condensed air slammed into Xie Lang's chest, launching him out of the tent with no room for argument.
"Damn bastard…" Xie Lang muttered under his breath outside, still not having learned the lesson in full.
Lu Heng turned back to the remaining two.
"As for you," he said coldly, "Zeng Shiyang. Han Yi. You failed the test of companionship."
They stood straight, silent.
"You know Xie Lang is reckless with his words. You know his weaknesses. And yet you did nothing. You didn't stop him. You didn't plan around him. A team is only as strong as its weakest link—and you let the weakest link fray."
His eyes hardened further.
"You will be assigned to Sawtooth Worm Extermination for one week. No exceptions. Now get out."
The two nodded silently and left the tent without protest, knowing full well that the moment they tried to argue, they'd be flying after Xie Lang.
Once they were gone, Tao Mu let out a small breath and looked at Lu Heng. "Lu Heng, you do know it wasn't entirely their fault, right?"
"I know," Lu Heng replied without turning. "The moment Ya Fen even suspected the Yan twins had joined the Jiang Clan and that we were pursuing them, he would've acted. He's not a fool."
He finally turned to Tao Mu, face grim.
"Even if Xie Lang had held his tongue, Ya Fen would've still sent someone. He would've pieced it together anyway. If we're targeting the Yan twins, and the twins are being sheltered by the Jiang... it's a direct implication of conflict. And that organization loves nothing more than an opportunity to get information that most will pay to get."
Lu Heng crossed his arms.
"But that doesn't excuse their failure. Control, composure, teamwork—those are our shields against manipulation. They dropped all three."