Chen Mo climbed out of the medicinal bath, steam curling off his skin like faint breath in winter. He focused inward, gauging the change, and a quiet spark lit his eyes.

  Middle Copper stage. One hundred and forty.

  He swallowed a recovery pill, the bitterness grounding him, and began to calculate with cool precision. Twelve points in a single session. Not bad at all. Nine packets remained. Six would be enough to push him through the bottleneck. The rest could be converted back into silver through Zhou, resources flowing in a neat, ruthless cycle.

  Two weeks. That was all it would take. In two weeks, he would step into the late stage of Skin Refining, standing only a hair’s breadth away from Master Lian, the acknowledged peak of the realm. For others, such progress would be a lifelong boast, a ceiling they might never touch again.

  For Chen Mo, it barely qualified as a starting line.

  This strength was not a destination. It was scaffolding. What he wanted lay far higher, where skin turned to gold, where blades dulled on flesh, where heat and water lost their bite. He dried himself, eyes steady, ambition coiled tight in his chest, already reaching beyond what this small world thought reasonable.

  Zhang Qiang sat behind his desk, fingers drumming slowly against the polished wood. An attendant stood before him, posture rigid, head lowered in deference.

  “So,” Zhang Qiang said at last, his voice flat, “you noticed nothing unusual during these past two weeks?”

  The attendant hesitated before answering carefully. “Reporting to Lord Zhang, this humble one has had very limited contact with Steward Chen. He is… rather withdrawn. He rarely speaks, does not socialize with the guards, and keeps to himself. The only person in frequent contact with him is the accountant, Zhou.”

  Zhang Qiang’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And the counting of goods? Any irregularities?”

  “This humble one can only say that everything was conducted according to established procedures. No deviations, no changes.”

  Zhang Qiang clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath, “Useless…”

  He waved his hand impatiently. “Keep your eyes open. If anything out of the ordinary happens, report to me immediately. You’re dismissed.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The attendant bowed and withdrew quietly.

  Left alone, Zhang Qiang leaned back in his chair, gaze drifting to the ceiling as his thoughts churned. Too clean. Too quiet. Nothing unsettled him more than perfection.

  “It seems I’ll need to have a talk with this boy myself,” he murmured. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll cooperate.”

  After a moment, a faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Still… no need to rush. Let the young miss arrive first. Perhaps she’ll have better luck.”

  His eyes glinted with calculation. “After all, how could a green, inexperienced brat like him resist her charm?”

  Time slipped past like water through loose fingers. In the span of two weeks, Chen Mo grew increasingly daring. One full crate vanished every week under his quiet guidance, and silver flowed into his hands without pause. By now, his fortune had swollen to a full five hundred taels. Yet coin was only a means. Tonight, what truly mattered was something far more important.

  The sixth medicinal bath.

  Steam coiled through the room as Chen Mo lowered himself into the basin. At first, the familiar sting gnawed at his skin, but as the minutes passed, the liquid slowly lost its murky color, turning clearer and clearer, as if all its essence were being stripped away.

  Then his body trembled.

  Violently.

  Chen Mo’s consciousness was yanked free, plunging once more into that familiar, silent space. There, he saw himself again. Years upon years passed in an instant. Skin torn, reforged, torn again. Endless grinding, relentless refinement. No rest. No mercy. Only repetition, will, and pain.

  At last, something shattered.

  All that accumulated experience collapsed inward, compressing into a single heartbeat and fusing seamlessly with his flesh.

  Chen Mo’s eyes snapped open.

  A low breath escaped his lips as power surged through him. His skin gleamed faintly, suffused with a muted golden hue, as though a layer of metal had been forged beneath the surface. Strength coiled tightly within every inch of his body, restrained only by his own control.

  He clenched his fist.

  The air rippled.

  Chen Mo was certain of one thing. If he were to strike with his full strength now, this entire office would be reduced to rubble.

  Late-stage Skin Refining.

  And to him, it still felt like nothing more than the beginning.

  Chen Mo summoned the panel, his gaze settling calmly on the lines of familiar text.

  Realm: Skin Refining (Late Golden Stage) 203/300

  Skill: Threaded Movement 300/400

  His breathing remained steady, yet a quiet weight pressed against his thoughts.

  Everything was progressing flawlessly. Too flawlessly.

  Late-stage Skin Refining. A speed that would leave even celebrated prodigies choking on dust. His movement technique was nearing mastery, its pathways etched deeply into muscle memory, ready to be woven into combat, escape, and shadowed theft alike.

  Yet beneath that smooth ascent lurked an invisible wall.

  Chen Mo exhaled slowly.

  The follow-up chapter of the Silver Crane Body Refining technique.

  Without it, his path ended here.

  This was the true leash of the martial halls. Resources could be skimmed. Pills could be stolen. Even positions could be exploited. But cultivation methods were different. The higher chapters were never traded, never leaked, never granted freely. They were the chains wrapped around every disciple’s future.

  Reach the peak, and you would be forced to bow.

  Bow to the hall. Bow to the elders. Bow to their conditions.

  Chen Mo’s eyes darkened.

  He had no intention of offering his neck once he reached the summit of this realm. Yet without the next chapter, all his grinding would eventually become meaningless, a cart stuck in deep mud no matter how strong the ox.

  “So this is the real bottleneck,” he murmured.

  Not talent. Not resources.

  Permission.

  A thin, humorless smile crept onto his lips.

  If the martial hall used cultivation methods as shackles, then he would have to find a way to break the lock entirely… or steal the key before it ever tightened around his throat.

  The next morning, Chen Mo was in his office, seated behind the desk as usual, Zhou standing quietly opposite him. The golden gleam beneath his skin was carefully suppressed, his aura restrained to the level of a disciplined late-stage Skin Refining disciple. He could not afford to reveal too much, not with the facility alive with watchful eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Zhou shuffled some papers nervously but otherwise said nothing. He was growing accustomed to the steady flow of silver from their operations, his usual hesitations replaced by cautious efficiency.

  A light, measured knock interrupted their routine. Chen Mo raised an eyebrow, expression unreadable.

  “Enter,” he said calmly.

  The door opened, and an attendant stepped in, bowing low. “Lord Chen… Lord Zhang requests your presence in his office. Young Miss Li has arrived and will be stationed here under his supervision.”

  Chen Mo’s face remained neutral, but his mind sharpened. He gestured for the attendant to leave, then turned to Zhou with a questioning glance.

  Zhou exhaled softly. “This… is not good news, my lord.”

  Chen Mo simply nodded, already calculating. He had anticipated complications, but not the direct arrival of someone assigned specifically to watch him. “I will handle it,” he said evenly, voice betraying no concern. “Prepare the records and stay alert. This will be a test of our composure.”

  By mid-morning, Chen Mo followed the attendant through the familiar corridors to Zhang Qiang’s office. The door opened, and standing inside was Zhang Qiang, expression sharp as ever. Behind him, poised and graceful, was Li Yuxue.

  She was young, yes—but her presence carried the weight of training. Her eyes swept over the office, taking in Chen Mo with quick, precise calculation. Sweat clung to her temples from her morning practice, but her posture was immaculate, her breathing controlled. She exuded the quiet confidence of someone trained to observe and act without hesitation.

  Chen Mo rose and cupped his hands in greeting. “Steward Chen Mo greets Lord Zhang and Young Miss Li.”

  Li Yuxue’s gaze flicked over him, assessing. “Steward Chen. I have heard of you,” she said evenly. “Breaking through Skin Refining in a month… impressive.”

  Chen Mo smiled faintly, tone measured. “Rumors exaggerate. Luck favors the diligent, nothing more.”

  Zhou felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew the kind of sharp scrutiny the young girl brought—but Chen Mo remained calm, almost casual.

  Zhang Qiang’s eyes narrowed briefly, then he spoke. “This is Li Yuxue, newly assigned under Law Enforcement. She will be stationed here, and you will cooperate fully, Chen Mo.”

  “Of course,” Chen Mo said smoothly. “Transparency benefits everyone.”

  Zhang Qiang turned and left, leaving the two young cultivators alone. Silence filled the room, broken only by the faint sound of Chen Mo adjusting some papers.

  Li Yuxue studied him for a long moment before speaking, a faint smile forming. “I’ll be troubling you often, Steward Chen. I hope that isn’t a problem.”

  Chen Mo met her gaze, polite and measured. “As long as it remains within regulations, I welcome the challenge.”

  The corners of Li Yuxue’s eyes twitched in amusement, but her tone remained composed. Both of them masked their intentions, aware that beneath the calm surface of the eastern facility, currents were beginning to shift.

  Chen Mo allowed himself a quiet thought: “A new player has arrived. Interesting.”

  Outside, the facility carried on, unaware that the first threads of a subtle game had just begun.

  Li Yuxue spoke first, her tone light yet probing. “I’ve always wanted a worthy opponent to spar with. I hope Steward Chen won’t mind.”

  Chen Mo offered a faint, polite smile. “I would not dare refuse, Young Miss. However, between daily training and the duties of this facility, finding spare time may prove… difficult.”

  Li Yuxue did not seem disappointed. Instead, she stepped closer, lowering her voice just enough to suggest intent rather than secrecy. “That won’t be an issue. I will be assisting you with the daily counting from now on.”

  She paused, then added calmly, “To be honest with you, my presence here is not merely to gain experience. This assignment is part of a long-term investigation.”

  Chen Mo’s expression remained unchanged, though his lips twitched almost imperceptibly. So much for secrecy, he thought.

  Li Yuxue continued, watching him closely. “The Alchemy Department has been conducting a number of… obscure operations. As members of Law Enforcement, it is our duty to uncover the truth. I won’t hide this from you.”

  She met his eyes directly. “You are newly appointed. Talented. And that talent is precisely why I am here.”

  Chen Mo clasped his hands behind his back, his voice steady. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what Young Miss means.”

  Li Yuxue smiled faintly. “The Law Enforcement Department wishes to recruit you, Steward Chen. Resources, techniques, protection, none of that will be an issue.”

  Her gaze sharpened. “You must understand, once this case is cracked—and it will be—many heads will roll. I believe you’re clever enough to grasp what that implies.”

  Chen Mo fell silent.

  Inside, his thoughts churned. Carrot and stick. Clean and ruthless. He now stood between two giants, either one capable of crushing him without effort. The Alchemy Department had pulled him into their web, and now Law Enforcement was tightening a noose of its own.

  Damn it, he thought grimly. The project has only just begun… and already the wolves are at the door.

  Outwardly, however, Chen Mo remained composed, his expression solemn and unreadable. Whatever choice lay ahead, one thing was clear—

  There would be no safe path forward.

  Li Yuxue continued, her tone unhurried, almost gentle. “There’s no rush in answering me. It will take time for me to adjust to my new role as well.”

  She smiled, bright and disarmingly warm. “In the meantime, you can think things through. After all, we’ll be in contact every day from now on.”

  Chen Mo rose to his feet and cupped his hands politely. “Young Miss may depend on me.”

  With that, he excused himself.

  Only after he stepped away did the calm on his face fracture. His thoughts surged like a flood breaking a dam. A way out… I need a way out.

  All his previous plans, laying low, slowly accumulating wealth, building strength in the shadows, they had all become meaningless overnight. This was no longer a matter of patience or caution.

  As for joining the Law Enforcement Department? A hollow joke. If he truly crossed that line, the Alchemy Department would never let him live long enough to enjoy the benefits. A sudden accident. A mysterious injury. A silent disappearance. He could already see the ending.

  Caught between two factions, both sharper and heavier than him, Chen Mo finally understood the truth.

  There was no future here.

  Only extraction.

  His gaze hardened. Take whatever I can. Escape. Then figure everything out afterward.

  This time, he would not wait for the net to tighten.