Chen Mo rose to his feet, a restless urge gnawing at him. For a fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of storming a pharmacy and taking what he needed by force. He dismissed it just as quickly. He was no alchemist. Raw materials were useless in his hands. Only silver and gold mattered. Compact, universal, and easy to turn into strength.

  The real question was simple. Who should he borrow from this time?

  The Sun family’s mansion surfaced in his thoughts almost instinctively, tempting like a familiar cliff edge. But he shook his head. Any disturbance there now would draw top-tier experts immediately. With the city wrapped in a suffocating web of spies, even a whisper would summon Organ Refinement masters. That was a risk he could not afford.

  Robbing a caravan, then? The large ones were certainly worth it, but those belonged to the Imperial Trade Hall. Touching them meant provoking the crown itself. Not that it mattered much. He was already branded a rebel. Still, bold thoughts were easy. Survival was not. Without precise intelligence, he could just as easily end up dead in a ditch, ambushed by an unseen Organ Refinement expert. Caravan security was a tightly guarded secret, and he had no reliable channel to uncover it. Relying on Steward Liu again was out of the question.

  After circling through every possibility, Chen Mo exhaled slowly, a cold glint settling in his eyes.

  It seemed his only remaining benefactors were the Sun family after all.

  But this time, Chen Mo knew he needed a different approach.

  Hit-and-run had served him well, but it was crude, dangerous, and shortsighted. It created noise, drew attention, and left too much to chance. He needed leverage, not chaos.

  His thoughts turned once more to Sun Bo.

  What if he did not steal, but took?

  A hostage. Clean. Controlled. Decisive.

  Sun Bo himself was no threat. The real obstacles were the two protectors assigned by the Sun family. Yet Chen Mo’s eyes narrowed as he weighed it carefully. Those two were only at the early stage of Bone Forging. Against his own late-stage Bone Forging foundation, bolstered by terrifying muscle refinement and perfected Threaded Movement, the gap was overwhelming. In a direct confrontation, he could suppress them both with ease.

  No prolonged exchange. No drawn-out battle.

  The true challenge lay elsewhere.

  There could be no commotion. No clash of techniques echoing through the night. No alarms, no witnesses, no trace left behind. The two protectors had to be neutralized instantly, silently, before they even realized what was happening.

  If he succeeded, Sun Bo would become a walking treasury, a living guarantee of resources. One move, properly executed, could solve everything at once.

  Chen Mo’s breathing slowed, his thoughts sharpening into a single, cold line.

  This time, he would not gamble with speed.

  He would gamble with control

  Chen Mo waited until night fell, until Jian City was wrapped in layered shadows and drifting lantern light. Then he vanished.

  No sound marked his departure. No ripple followed his passage. He moved like a thought slipping between breaths, crossing rooftops and walls without leaving even the memory of his presence. The Sun mansion, heavily guarded and brightly lit , lay open to him under the cover of darkness. He slipped inside with contemptuous ease.

  Once within, his senses unfolded.

  Two auras.

  Faint, but unmistakable.

  One was steady and disciplined. Mo Yan. The man sat cross-legged in his quarters, breathing slow and even, immersed in cultivation. His aura rose and fell like calm water, unaware of the blade hovering above it.

  The other was chaotic and indulgent. He Zuo. Laughter, music, the soft rustle of silk and skin. His aura flickered wildly as he amused himself with women, completely unguarded.

  Chen Mo did not rush.

  He drew his own presence inward, compressing it until even his heartbeat seemed to fade. Every instinct was reined in, every trace of killing intent buried beneath layers of control. To the world around him, he became nothing more than a patch of deeper shadow.

  Step by step, breath by breath, he approached Mo Yan’s quarters.

  Not a floorboard creaked.

  Not a wisp of air stirred.

  The distance closed, and Chen Mo’s eyes hardened.

  The first move would decide everything.

  Lantern light washed the Mo residence in gold and shadow, laughter drifting lazily through carved corridors. In a quiet side courtyard, Mo Yan sat cross-legged upon a jade mat, eyes closed, breath even, qi circulating through skin, muscle, and bone in a disciplined loop. He believed the night secure. The guards were alert. The walls were high. A Bone Forging expert did not fear shadows.

  Chen Mo was already behind him.

  He moved with Threaded Movement, his steps woven into the pauses between sounds, his breathing synchronized with the sway of hanging leaves. At the late Bone Forging realm, his skeleton no longer announced motion; force folded inward, dispersed along bone and marrow, leaving nothing behind. Even the night insects failed to notice his presence.

  Chen Mo placed his palm lightly between Mo Yan’s shoulder blades.

  A single, perfectly tuned pulse slipped through skin and muscle and resonated directly with the bones, disrupting marrow circulation without releasing outward force. Mo Yan’s qi loop stuttered. His breath caught. His eyes opened in confusion rather than alarm.

  Before awareness could sharpen, Chen Mo’s fingers pressed briefly at the base of the skull.

  The second pulse arrived like a silken hammer.

  Mo Yan’s spine slackened, consciousness extinguished without pain or sound. Chen Mo caught the falling body, lowered it gently to the ground, and sealed the disrupted qi with a light tap to the sternum. From any outside glance, Mo Yan appeared to have merely fallen into deeper meditation.

  Chen Mo rose and flowed away, already threading toward the next target.

  Music and laughter bloomed from the eastern hall. Silk curtains billowed. Wine shimmered in bronze cups. He Zuo, another early-stage Bone Forging master, reclined among four girls, his qi scattered and loose, dulled by indulgence. His bones were strong, but his vigilance had long since dissolved into drink and warmth.

  Chen Mo slipped behind a screen as a burst of laughter peaked.

  Threaded Movement carried him forward in three soundless steps.

  Two fingers touched He Zuo’s lower ribs.

  The shock was internal and absolute, bypassing nerves entirely and striking the marrow directly. He Zuo stiffened, eyes glazing as the wine cup slipped from his fingers. Chen Mo caught him smoothly, guiding the limp body backward before it could hit the floor.

  The girls gasped.

  Before sound could form, Chen Mo moved.

  His hands flicked with surgical precision, tapping pressure points along necks and shoulders, each strike infused with a whisper of bone-forging qi. One by one, the girls slumped into unconsciousness, breath steady, bodies unharmed, collapsing like silk falling from a loom. No screams. No struggle. The music outside continued uninterrupted.

  Chen Mo laid He Zuo beside Mo Yan, checked their breathing, then bound their qi circulation with restrained seals that he leaned from the Primordial Body Art and finally it showed it usefulness. Both men lived. Both slept. Both would wake only when Chen Mo allowed it.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Chen Mo slipped silently into Sun Bo’s bedroom, where the man lay in a deep, untroubled sleep. Not being a martial artist and utterly drained from the day’s business, Sun Bo offered no resistance. Chen Mo stood quietly by the bed, a faint, calm smile on his face. He reminded himself that it was only natural to be gentle with his benefactor, the man whose cooperation would be crucial for his next moves.

  “Master Sun…” Chen Mo nudged him gently.

  Sun Bo’s eyes fluttered open, groggy and clearly irritated. “What is it? Is there something urgent?”

  Chen Mo shook his head slightly. “Not much, Master Sun. We just need to negotiate a deal.”

  Now fully awake, Sun Bo’s gaze sharpened as he took in the stranger standing beside him. “Who… who are you?” he stammered.

  “Calm down, Master Sun,” Chen Mo said smoothly. “Just come with me to your study. We can talk there.”

  Sun Bo tried to shout, but before he could, he found himself lifted effortlessly, like a toy, and carried into another room. As he adjusted himself to stand, his eyes widened at the sight of his two protectors lying silently side by side.

  “You…” he breathed, a mix of fear and disbelief.

  Chen Mo’s expression remained calm. “Don’t worry. They’re both alive. As I said, I’m here to negotiate, not to kill.”

  “Please, take a seat, Master Sun,” Chen Mo said calmly.

  Sun Bo steadied himself, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sank in. Even his two protectors had been subdued without a sound. He took a deep breath and lowered himself into the chair opposite Chen Mo. “May I ask… how have we offended your Excellency?” he said, voice measured but tense. “The Sun family is willing to make amends—and even build a lasting friendship. After all, violence only breeds more violence and losses.”

  Chen Mo’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Exactly my thoughts. I really prefer dealing with merchants—they’re reasonable.”

  Sun Bo let out a short, nervous laugh. “Ah… Master jests. I mean, we have no irreconcilable enmity. Why create trouble when we can cooperate?”

  “Yes, yes, I agree, Master Sun,” Chen Mo said, nodding. “I truly admire your pragmatism.”

  Sun Bo furrowed his brow. “Then… Master, could you perhaps clarify things for me?”

  Chen Mo leaned back slightly, his expression calm but sharp. “It’s not that complicated. We’ve dealt with each other before… though, unfortunately, it didn’t go well last time. I borrowed some silver from your mansion, and you came after me—but that man lying there,” he gestured toward the subdued protectors, “I’ve made sure nothing happens to him. Today, I came back to set things right… and perhaps to negotiate another arrangement.”

  Sun Bo was stunned, eyes wide. “Y-you… you’re Chen Mo? That’s impossible… that boy was only Muscle Refining…”

  Chen Mo’s voice cut through cold as ice. “So what if it’s me?”

  Sun Bo stumbled over his words. “N-no, no problem, Master Chen… I… I was just momentarily shocked…”

  His mind raced, a storm of calculations and possibilities. Was he only pretending to be Muscle Refining before? No… every report of his background matches… and now he’s truly broken through, with a perfected movement technique… a monster. Such talent is unheard of…

  Business instinct surged over everything else. Sun Bo’s thoughts leapt past the subdued protectors and the peril of the moment. If I handle this right… if I use him wisely… this could secure me a permanent place in the main branch of the Sun family.

  Sun Bo suddenly rose and bowed deeply toward Chen Mo. “On behalf of the Sun family, this humble one begs Master Chen’s forgiveness.”

  Chen Mo was inwardly taken aback. Tch… truly, businessmen are a different breed.

  He said calmly, “That depends on your sincerity.”

  Sun Bo straightened, eyes earnest. “Rest assured, my lord, you will be satisfied, without a doubt.”

  Chen Mo nodded slightly. “Then we shall see.”

  Sun Bo’s lips curved into a practiced, respectful smile. “Lord is magnanimous. Might I… order some fine tea? It will make our conversation more… pleasant.”

  Chen Mo inclined his head. “That’s fine.”

  Soon after, tea was served by Sun Bo himself. After all, allowing the servants to witness the two unconscious protectors lying nearby would hardly be appropriate.

  Chen Mo said bluntly, “I need resources to cultivate.”

  Sun Bo had expected nothing less. After all, connecting the dots from Chen Mo’s previous raids for silver, this demand seemed almost natural. He nodded respectfully. “Lord can rest assured—whatever you need, we will provide. It’s only a matter of how much.”

  Chen Mo’s gaze was steady. “Enough to reach Innate.”

  Sun Bo froze. Innate? His hands trembled slightly. Is he joking? Other resources he could understand, even rare medicines or materials—but Innate cultivation… spiritual items beyond the reach of the Sun family’s own experts? This was unprecedented.

  Sun Bo forced a polite smile, though his hands trembled slightly. “Lord, please understand… Innate means spiritual items. Even my family cannot provide such things. It’s a matter of luck and fate.”

  Chen Mo’s gaze remained unwavering. “Who said I want spiritual items? I only need ordinary, potent medicine—unworthy of the term ‘spiritual,’ perhaps. I can provide you with the exact prescriptions, and I am certain your family can supply them.”

  Sun Bo relaxed slightly and said, “In that case, there won’t be a problem. However, Master Chen, may I ask a question? After all, business is built on mutual interests. If we share such interests, we can cooperate more sincerely… and perhaps even build trust.”

  Chen Mo’s eyes glimmered. This old fox was trying to probe, perhaps even poach him.

  Chen Mo replied calmly, “Ask away.”

  Sun Bo leaned in slightly, his tone cautious yet curious. “Witnessing Your Excellency’s immense talent, I cannot help but ask… Are you confident in reaching the Innate Realm?”

  Chen Mo’s thoughts sharpened: as expected, he’s trying to invest—make the deal easier and safer for both sides.

  Chen Mo answered, voice steady and assured, “Absolutely. With the resources provided, I guarantee I can reach the Innate Realm even before the immortal recruitment.”

  Sun Bo’s eyes lit up. He remained skeptical of such grand claims, yet he thought: first, averting this calamity would already be an achievement; second, if it succeeded, it would be like hitting the jackpot.

  “Master Chen,” he said with a mix of awe and calculation, “you are truly a dragon among men… and I shall congratulate you in advance.”

  Chen Mo’s expression remained neutral. “So… we have a deal?”

  “Absolutely, my lord. I have complete faith in you… and a request, though I fear it may trouble you.”

  “Say it,” Chen Mo replied.

  “If Master Chen achieves Innate in the future,” Sun Bo began carefully, “would you… lend the Sun family a hand? Help us out of our precarious situation?”

  Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. “Be exact.”

  “The second prince,” Sun Bo explained, his tone tense, “if he ascends the throne after the immortal recruitment, our family could be doomed. So… if Master—”

  Chen Mo interrupted, calm and decisive, “Okay. It’s a deal.” Internally, he reminded himself that any promise he made was his own to keep—and that fulfillment would depend entirely on his own choices.