Commander Qi paced back and forth in his office, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. Guards stood rigid in the corners, watching silently as their commander’s frustration mounted.

  “Damn it… where did that Jian Mo disappear to?” Qi muttered, running a hand through his hair.

  A guard stepped forward cautiously. “My lord, we’ve tightened the search within the city and even contacted the capital and nearby towns. Nothing detected. Most likely… he never left far. He spent nearly ten thousand taels on medicine—perhaps he is cultivating in seclusion somewhere.”

  Qi came to a sudden halt, eyes narrowing. “Yes… that’s possible. Damn it… to be able to spend that kind of silver… probably all stolen. If he is the one behind the Sun family robbery, that kid is truly terrifying. And now… not only has he provoked my lord, but even the Sun family is hunting him.”

  He clenched his fists, the veins in his neck bulging with tension. “Damn it… he’s becoming more dangerous by the day. We need to find him before he grows even stronger.”

  Chen Mo stood atop a low hill, gazing down at the road leading into Jian City. An unusually long queue stretched like a sluggish river of bodies, winding all the way to the gates. He restrained his aura, lowered the brim of his bamboo hat, and quietly merged with the crowd of commoners waiting their turn.

  Boredom soon loosened tongues.

  “Damn it,” the man beside him grumbled, shifting his weight. “Entering the city is getting more and more troublesome.”

  Chen Mo tilted his head slightly. “Why is that?”

  The man spat to the side. “Who knows the details? About a month ago, the guards started checking everyone coming in and out. Thoroughly, too. They say they’re hunting some criminal. Even my town was searched from house to house.”

  Another listener leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “You don’t know? They’re after a rebel who infiltrated the city. They say he’s behind a string of robberies.”

  A woman chimed in, eyes wide. “That’s not all. I heard he kidnaps children. Little ones!”

  The rumors snowballed from there. Some swore the criminal slaughtered entire families. Others claimed he practiced demonic arts, drinking blood to cultivate. Each voice piled exaggeration upon exaggeration, until the air buzzed with fear and righteous outrage.

  The first man turned back toward Chen Mo, eager to drag him into the discussion.

  “Huh?”

  The spot beside him was empty.

  Momentarily startled, the man blinked, then shrugged and latched onto another unfortunate listener, resuming his rant without pause.

  Far from the gate, Chen Mo had already returned to the small hill overlooking the road. He stood alone now, the bamboo hat casting a shadow over his eyes.

  His expression was solemn.

  Chen Mo’s thoughts churned like dark water beneath ice.

  This isn’t right. Something is off.

  Why hunt him with such obsession? He had been nothing more than a newly recruited disciple of the Silver Crane Martial Hall, a nobody in the grand scheme of things. That alone could never justify sealing cities, spreading wanted notices, and mobilizing officials like bloodhounds.

  No… that’s not it.

  A colder thought surfaced.

  The legacy.

  Senior Jiang Han’s legacy.

  Chen Mo’s breathing slowed. He had destroyed the bandit stronghold, yes, but could he be certain every single person had died that day? All it took was one survivor, one whisper, for threads to connect. The government was not acting blindly. This was too deliberate, too thorough.

  They suspect I have something valuable.

  The realization settled heavily in his chest.

  Even Senior Jiang Han, an Organ Refinement expert, had eventually been cornered with the entire empire hunting him down. If such a figure couldn’t escape forever, what about him? A newly advanced Bone Forging cultivator?

  Chen Mo clenched his jaw.

  Yet the wanted posters only labeled him as a rebel. No mention of treasure. No mention of a legacy. Just a convenient crime, a clean excuse. A veil to hide the true motive from the public eye.

  So the truth is known only to a few.

  That, in some ways, was even more dangerous.

  His eyes narrowed beneath the bamboo hat.

  With this level of scrutiny, even laying low was becoming difficult. And if the pursuit continued like this, attending the immortal recruitment in less than two years would be far from simple.

  The road ahead was no longer just dangerous.

  It was closing.

  Chen Mo exhaled slowly, the breath leaving him like steam from a blade just drawn from fire.

  If I want to survive… if I want to stand at the immortal recruitment without chains already tightening around my throat… then I have only one choice.

  Fight back.

  Running alone would never be enough. As long as those people lived, as long as they kept searching, the shadow would follow him all the way to the capital and beyond. Even if he were fortunate enough to be chosen by the immortals, it would only take a single whisper, a single accusation of an “immortal legacy,” for the hunters to turn into executioners and let the immortals themselves tear him apart.

  That would be the cleanest ending for them.

  And the worst possible one for him.

  Chen Mo’s gaze hardened.

  So the secret must be buried.

  Not hidden. Not delayed. Buried together with the mouths that could speak it.

  Kill those who search for him. Cut the trail at its source. Leave behind nothing but silence and corpses, until the name “Chen Mo” became just another dead rumor swallowed by time.

  Only then could he walk openly toward the immortal recruitment. Only then could fate no longer be twisted against him by unseen hands.

  A cold, naked killing intent flickered in his eyes, sharp and unadorned.

  This was no longer about survival alone.

  This was about erasing the threat at its root.

  Night draped Jian City in muted shadows as Chen Mo returned to its outskirts. He did not approach the gates. Instead, he circled wide, found a stretch of wall where torchlight thinned, and scaled it like a wisp of smoke.

  The city walls were heavily guarded, at least on paper. Patrols passed regularly, armored boots scraping stone, eyes sharp with duty. Yet strength mattered more than numbers. Most of the guards were only at Skin Refining or Muscle Refining. To Chen Mo, they were loud lanterns in the dark, visible long before they could ever sense him.

  With perfected Threaded Movement, slipping past them was effortless. His body flowed between shadows, breath muted, presence thinned to almost nothing. No alarm rang. No shout followed.

  Entering the city was easy.

  Staying inside it was the real danger.

  Chen Mo moved low and slow along rooftops and alleys, his senses stretched thin. Every corner could hide informants, every teahouse loose tongues, every patrol an excuse for scrutiny. The net was already cast. He could feel it tightening.

  He could not help but sigh inwardly.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  If martial arts weren’t so tightly controlled in this world…

  In another life, another story, this would be the moment to seek out the legendary Bone-Changing Art. A face rewritten, bones reshaped, destiny shrugged off like an old coat. A mandatory treasure for every transmigrator worth their salt.

  But reality was cruelly mundane.

  For now, he would rely on crude disguises, careful timing, and the shadows themselves.

  His eyes narrowed as a single name surfaced in his mind.

  Steward Liu.

  That man was the key. The hinge upon which survival might turn. If anyone knew how to move goods quietly, medicines discreetly, and information without ripples, it was him.

  Chen Mo vanished into the maze of the city, his path bending toward Steward Liu’s residence, every step measured, every breath controlled.

  One mistake now would not mean escape.

  It would mean the hunt closing its jaws.

  Chen Mo had planned for this long ago.

  Back when he first began dealing with Steward Liu, he had quietly tailed him once, careful and patient, committing every turn and landmark to memory. At the time, it was nothing more than a precaution. A loose thread tied for a future that might never come.

  Tonight, that thread saved his life.

  The courtyard before him was painfully ordinary. Low walls. Modest tiles. Just a small household where Steward Liu lived with his wife and two children. The faint glow of an oil lamp leaked through a paper window, carrying with it the quiet rhythm of mundane life.

  Chen Mo landed soundlessly inside the courtyard, his feet brushing stone like falling leaves. He drew himself into the deepest patch of shadow beneath a withered tree and stilled his breathing until even his heartbeat seemed to fade.

  He did not rush.

  Time was his ally.

  The night thinned. Darkness softened into gray. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. Another answered.

  Chen Mo remained motionless.

  At dawn, the household would stir. Steward Liu would wake, wash, dress, and prepare to leave for the pharmacy, just as he did every morning. Predictable. Safe. Human.

  Chen Mo waited in the shadows, eyes closed, senses open, like a hunter poised not for blood, but for answers.

  Whatever came next would decide whether Jian City remained a cage… or became his grave.

  At dawn, Steward Liu rose as he always did.

  He washed, dressed in the familiar robe of the pharmacy, and tied his belt with practiced motions. The mirror reflected a man who had aged a decade in a single month. Dark circles clung beneath his eyes, and his hands trembled despite his effort to steady them.

  This past month had been hell.

  City guards. Officials. Repeated interrogations. Endless questions about that cursed name, Jiang Mo. How was he supposed to know the man was a wanted criminal? He had only done business, nothing more. Honest trade. Large trade, yes, but still trade. And yet now whispers followed him through the halls. Colleagues avoided his gaze. Even casual greetings had vanished.

  Steward Liu sighed.

  He stepped toward the courtyard gate.

  Then his body stiffened.

  Goosebumps exploded across his skin. A cold, merciless pressure kissed the side of his neck. Hard. Sharp. Unmistakable.

  Metal.

  His face drained of color. In that instant, he saw only the future. Blood on stone. Screams never heard. His wife. His children, still asleep, unaware that death stood a single breath away.

  “P-please…” he stammered, voice cracking. “My lord… spare my family. This humble one is willing to do anything.”

  A familiar voice answered from behind him, calm and unhurried.

  “Steward Liu. Long time no see.”

  Liu froze.

  He would recognize that voice even in his grave.

  “…Young Master Jian,” he said hoarsely. “Indeed… long time no see.”

  The pressure vanished. A soft metallic whisper followed as the dagger was sheathed.

  Chen Mo stepped past him, expression cold and controlled. To him, Liu was nothing more than an ordinary man. Not a threat. Not yet.

  “Let’s talk,” Chen Mo said.

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” Liu replied quickly, sweat already soaking his collar. He gestured shakily toward a side room. “This way, Young Master.”

  They entered the small room and shut the door.

  Liu wiped his brow, forcing a strained smile. “Young Master… this humble one truly doesn’t know what I did to deserve Your Excellency’s visit so early in the morning.”

  Chen Mo’s eyes were ice.

  “Cut the nonsense,” he said flatly. “I need your help.”

  Liu’s breath hitched.

  “If you cooperate,” Chen Mo continued, voice low and even, “you will not only live, you will become rich. If you betray me…” His gaze drifted, ever so slightly, toward the rooms where Liu’s family slept. “You already know the outcome.”

  Liu’s knees nearly buckled.

  “P-please, Young Master,” he said, trembling. “This one is willing to help. Truly. It’s just that… too many eyes are on me now. The government. The Sun family. Everyone is hunting you. If they even suspect me…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “My entire family will be wiped out.”

  Chen Mo studied him in silence.

  Then he spoke, slow and deliberate.

  “That is exactly why you will help me.”

  “They won’t let you go anyway,” Chen Mo said coldly. “You are only valuable as long as I’m not caught. They suspect I may contact you. That’s why you’re still breathing. Still working.”

  Liu’s pupils shrank.

  “Your only chance,” Chen Mo continued, voice steady and merciless, “is ironically me. I brought this trouble to your door, and I can take it away. If you cooperate honestly, you live. If you don’t…” He paused, letting the silence finish the sentence. “You truly have no choice.”

  Liu tilted his head, mind racing. For a long moment, the room was silent save for his shallow breathing. Chen Mo did not rush him. Pressure did not need repetition.

  Finally, Liu spoke, his voice low and resigned.

  “Young Master… what do you need?”

  Chen Mo smiled faintly. Not warmth, but certainty.

  “What else?” he said. “Medicine. Pills. Resources. You have your channels. I know you do.”

  Liu clenched his jaw.

  This was madness. To move black market goods under the eyes of the government, to circulate silver, to arrange deliveries without leaving a trail. One mistake. One leak. His entire family would vanish overnight.

  Yet the alternative was no better.

  Slowly, he exhaled.

  “Young Master,” Liu said, voice heavy, “this is extremely dangerous. I will have to contact certain people in the shadows. Move goods quietly. Pay silver through roundabout paths. It won’t be easy.”

  Chen Mo said quietly, “I will need you to get me Bone Forging resources.”

  Liu’s expression changed instantly. The color drained from his face.

  “Young Master,” he said hurriedly, “those resources are not just expensive. They’re tightly controlled. Every sale is recorded. Every buyer is identified.”

  Chen Mo’s gaze remained calm, unmoving. “Then don’t use the open market. I need unorthodox medicine. The black market sells such things.”

  Liu fell into deep silence.

  Time passed. A candle crackled softly. Finally, Liu spoke, his voice lowered, as though afraid the walls themselves might listen.

  “There are… forbidden items,” he said slowly. “But once you touch them, there is no turning back.”

  He swallowed and continued.

  “Heaven-Crushing Bone Pill.”