The sun had already climbed above the tiled roofs, spilling its brilliance across the academy grounds. In the open square before the mission hall, a task board loomed like a monolith of fate. Golden light struck its broad surface, catching on shifting lines of script so that each mission shimmered faintly, as if the slips themselves breathed with hidden weight.

  Clusters of disciples crowded around it. Some leaned close with fevered eyes, chasing challenges to match their ambition, eager to trade danger for cultivation resources. Others scanned the board with furrowed brows, movements hurried, desperate for even the simplest errand—anything to satisfy the academy’s quota before the month’s end.

  Failure meant penalties that cut deeper than shame. The air itself felt restless, thick with whispers and the dry rustle of parchment, undercut by the sour musk of unwashed robes from sleepless nights of training.

  A little apart from the crowd, three figures lingered in shadow beside a pillar. Unlike the jostling throng, their postures were taut, eyes combing the sea of faces not for missions but for a single target. The coil of tension in their stance set them apart, wolves watching a herd.

  Two of them were already familiar—young men Xiao Lei had crossed paths with on his very first day in the academy. Time had not dulled their resentment. Between them stood a shorter youth, compact and sharp-eyed, his presence radiating a sharp impatience that made the others shift uneasily.

  One lackey bent close, voice low so it would not carry.

  “Brother Zu, today we’ll find him for sure.”

  Zu snorted, harsh and cutting, the sound snapping through the hushed murmur like steel on stone. His lips thinned, and anger glinted across his features.

  The second lackey, sensing the flare, rushed to placate him.

  “Don’t be angry, Brother. Once we catch him, his spirit coins and task points will be yours.”

  “Hmph.” Zu’s reply was edged with disdain, his tone simmering. “Do you fools even know what mission he took? Three points. Three. And you think a newcomer could survive that?”

  The bitterness in his voice carried the weight of weeks wasted. He had asked, searched, hounded every whisper of the boy’s name, only to be chilled each time by the same answer: Xiao Lei had taken the Crying Spider task. And since that day—nothing. No sightings, no trace.

  Zu’s spirit coins had been stripped from him at the month’s start. Without them, cultivation time drained away like water from a cracked jar. And still he was forced to chase after a boy who should have been beneath notice. The humiliation burned, bile rising bitter at the back of his throat.

  One lackey, eager to echo his mood, muttered, “Brother is right. If that Chi Yu hadn’t lost in front of everyone, we could have—”

  The words snapped in half. His mouth stayed open, but sound failed him. His eyes widened, frozen on something beyond.

  Zu’s brows drew tight, irritation sparking.

  “What? Speak—”

  But when his gaze followed, the scorn bled from his face. Stunned hollowness replaced it, as though an unseen weight had slammed into his chest. Breath stalled, thoughts scattered. Even the noise of the restless square seemed distant, drowned beneath a silence that pressed like a hammer against the ribs.

  A ripple passed through the square. First a few heads turned, puzzled, then more. Soon nearly every gaze had shifted in the same direction, attention pulled as though by an unseen thread. Murmurs died away. Breath stilled. Whatever they saw left even the boldest disciples frozen in place.

  From the far edge of the square, Xiao Lei emerged. He walked with measured calm, each step steady, unhurried, equal in distance—as though no weight in the world could sway his rhythm.

  Yet behind him dragged a carcass larger than his own frame, its bulk eased by the unyielding force in his stride, scraping the stone with a dull, steady rhythm. The scene transformed his approach into a spectacle, and students who had followed at a distance now formed a trailing procession, whispering, pointing, yet unwilling to come too close.

  As Xiao Lei drew nearer, details sharpened. It was a spider, grotesque and enormous. Limbs torn, dangling at odd angles. Thick blood streaked the ground, catching the sunlight in dark, jagged lines. The iron stench rose with every drag, sharp and choking, a lingering threat of venom and death.

  Gasps spread through the crowd.

  “Isn’t that the one who defeated Chi Yu?” a student whispered, voice carrying despite himself. “Xiao Lei… that’s his name, isn’t it?”

  The words struck like a spark. Not far away, the short youth—Brother Zu—stiffened as if jolted. His eyes locked on the boy approaching the plaza, dragging the corpse with relentless composure. His lips parted, and for an instant he seemed unable to breathe. Then, with a sharp glance at the two youths beside him, he demanded in a low, cutting tone, “Is that him? The one you wanted me to deal with?”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  One of his companions blinked, dazed, as though waking from a heavy dream. Like a wooden puppet, he managed the smallest of nods.

  Zu’s face gave no reply. He turned. And then—he was gone. His departure was so sudden, so swift, that the air seemed to shift in his wake. The disciples flanking him only realized what had happened after he had vanished, leaving them gaping.

  Zu’s sudden retreat caught Xiao Lei’s eye. The empty space where he had stood drew his gaze, calm and unbothered. But they, catching the weight of his eyes, panicked. Fear twisted their faces. Without hesitation they too fled, stumbling over one another to escape.

  Xiao Lei exhaled softly, then let them go. His grip tightened around the spider’s mangled body as he dragged it the final stretch to the mission desk at the hall’s entrance.

  Inside, the clerk had already heard the commotion. Unlike the students, his eyes did not waver with disbelief. They narrowed instead, sharp with recognition. “That… that’s a Black Devouring Spider.” His voice carried a note of astonishment rarely heard in the seasoned official.

  Xiao Lei inclined his head. “The queen of the nest,” he said quietly. He laid down his token. “The task is complete.”

  The clerk reached out with practiced hands. Tokens bore hidden seals. They pulsed faintly as he examined it, confirming whether the mission’s conditions had been met. After a breath, the glow faded. The man returned it to Xiao Lei, now marked with three academy points.

  Still unsettled, the clerk pressed, “You—you killed it yourself?”

  Before Xiao Lei could answer, a shout tore through the crowd.

  “Brother! Brother!”

  The voice boomed like a drum. Turning, Xiao Lei saw a figure barrelling toward him—a towering youth with thick brows and a frame so broad it seemed to eclipse the sun. The sheer momentum of his charge shook the ground. Xiao Lei thought the boy’s sheer bulk made him almost comical—like the sumo wrestlers he had seen on TV—before he dismissed it.

  The clerk’s voice came from behind, sharp yet cautious, cutting through the murmurs of the courtyard. “Don’t offend him.”

  Xiao Lei didn’t turn. He had no need to. The youth he expected was already before him, chest heaving, gait uneven from a sprint that seemed to stretch the very air. Behind him, ten or so others stumbled in, faces flushed, limbs trembling from exertion. They formed a silent fan around Xiao Lei, a living barrier that announced their presence as much as it blocked him.

  Xiao Lei’s eyes swept the group, pausing on the fat youth in front. Grey robes marked him as an outer disciple, yet they shimmered differently, infused with a subtle lustre that spoke of privilege and influence. Even at this distance, it was clear his standing was strong. Xiao Lei noted it calmly, expression unreadable, betraying nothing.

  The youth finally found his voice. “Brother, how many spirit coins for that Devouring Spider?” His voice cut through the murmurs, steady and direct.

  Xiao Lei’s gaze flicked across the ten surrounding him, noting the silent, expectant formation—a fan of intent and quiet threat.

  “Not for sale.”

  The words were simple, yet firm. He met the fat youth’s expectant stare without flinching. The clerk behind him raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  Not reckless. Then why…?

  Caught off guard, the youth blurted, “You want academy points. I can exchange them, too—”

  Xiao Lei shook his head and turned slightly toward the clerk, displaying calm authority in posture alone. He had no intention of negotiating. The lackey beside Mantu began to roar, frustration spilling over.

  “You—Brother Mantu wants to trade fairly with you, and instead of being thankful, you—!”

  A subtle wave of Xiao Lei’s hand stilled him instantly.

  “I really need this Devouring Spider,” Mantu said, voice low and measured, eyes earnest. “Name your price. I will give it.”

  He spoke carefully. Anger could have flared, but Mantu dared not—his admiration for his Big Sister held him in check. Yet Xiao Lei’s face remained unreadable… His measured posture and deliberate gestures silenced the lackey instantly.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to sell,” he said softly, “but I cannot.”

  Mantu’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You likely seek it for its venom,” Xiao Lei explained. “But when I found the spider, it was already badly injured. Its poison sac ruptured—useless now.”

  One of Mantu’s lackeys muttered, “Liar. You just don’t want to sell it.”

  A faint smile curved Xiao Lei’s lips. “Oh? Tell me—how could I, at the fourth stage of Qi Awakening, kill a beast nearly rank three in difficulty?”

  The lackey opened his mouth to argue, then wisely shut it. Xiao Lei’s calm logic left no opening.

  Mantu’s gaze swept the corpse. A deep gash marred the spider’s neck, precisely where the poison sac should have been. He evaluated silently. The boy’s words matched the evidence.

  Yet the spider still held value beyond venom. He needed it, and its price would have to reflect diminished utility. But he could not ignore it entirely.

  Before he could negotiate, Xiao Lei spoke again. “Brother Mantu, if you still wish, I will give it to you as a gift. But it is not for sale.”

  Mantu froze, caught between delight and suspicion. A gift? Nothing is free in this world.

  Xiao Lei’s faint smile suggested innocence laced with subtle cunning. “Of course,” he added, “in return, I would only ask that you take a little care of me. Being new here is… troublesome.”

  The sincerity in his voice disarmed Mantu. The youth laughed—a deep, booming sound that carried across the plaza. “Agreed. Consider us friends,” he declared, leaving his lackeys stunned.

  As Mantu prepared to depart, he paused, glancing back. “Brother, I should gift you something in return. But what? Is there anything you desire?”

  Xiao Lei’s reply was immediate. “I don’t have a proper weapon.”

  Mantu’s laughter rang again, warmer this time. He handed over a card with a flourish. “Go here. Take whatever you need.” Then, without another word, he left, dragging the spider corpse behind him, now almost insignificant against his massive frame.

  Xiao Lei allowed himself a quiet, satisfied laugh in his mind. The venom had already been extracted—valuable to Lian. The rest of the spider held little use, making this a complete victory for him.

  The clerk watched, astonished. He had warned Xiao Lei not to offend anyone, yet the boy had done more than ignore the warning—he had befriended Mantu, gained a powerful ally, and maintained complete control of the encounter, all without a hint of hostility.

  Xiao Lei’s calm gaze followed the departing figure, noting the silent weight of the favour now owed, the seed of trust planted effortlessly. In a world where every advantage mattered, he had turned a simple act into influence, all with measured, quiet calculation.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.