— The Emperor’s Imperial Record, Entry No. 14 —

  By the time I reached Azul’s tannery, my legs felt like lead and my hands ached, raw from the sled’s grip. But none of that mattered.

  I had done it. And now, I wanted to see Azul’s smug face twist when he realized the same thing.

  The few people who were still awake stared as I passed by, dragging my sled full of badly covered beavers behind me. I barely noticed them. The only thing on my mind was getting to Azul.

  If we were going to continue our business relationship, I wouldn’t have him looking down on me anymore.

  When I got there, I pounded on the door. The sharp, acrid smell of the tannery hit me again—that unmistakable mix of animal hide, chemicals, and sweat. Metal tools clinked somewhere in the back room, and the constant drip of some solution onto stone created a steady rhythm as I heard feet hurry to the door.

  The apprentice answered again.

  “Get your master,” I said. I didn’t care what he was doing. He could drop it and come to me.

  This time, Azul came quickly, he had been working inside the tannery. That was good because I wouldn’t be kept waiting this time.

  When he came, he barely glanced at me, only acknowledging me enough to notice the sled behind me. I uncovered the beavers and grabbed one of them before tossing it over to him, letting it drop at his feet with a heavy thud.

  The wet slap of flesh on stone made his apprentice flinch. Blood smeared across the ground, spreading in dark streaks across the bleached stone.

  “There’s your beavers,” I said, voice flat and arms trembling from both exhaustion and rage.

  Azul’s eyes flicked to the carcass, then to my hands, taking in the dried blood and the torn edges of my sleeves. His smirk thinned.

  Then he scowled. “This couldn’t have waited? I’ll have you—”

  “I don’t have time for this,” I cut in. “I brought the goods. “I told you I’d get them. I did. Check, and stop wasting my time.”

  ‘I didn’t drag this sled through mud and predator-infested woodlands just to get scolded. ’ I was tired of treating this fool so nicely.

  He was about to launch into another tirade, but stopped. His eyes again flicked to the blood caked on my hands, then to the dagger, still in my grip, the blade dark, catching the light just enough to remind him of what I was capable of.

  He kept quiet and gestured for his apprentice to pick up the beaver.

  The apprentice took a step back, unsure of what to do because of the atmosphere between us, his eyes darted between me, the blood on my hands, and his master.

  Azul noticed his apprentice and scowled again, nudging the beaver slightly with his boot. “Hmph. Even a starving rat may gnaw the flesh of a dragon’s corpse, thinking itself a beast of legend.”

  Then, slowly, he crouched, grabbing the beaver, but I didn’t miss the shift in his movements. They were now more careful and deliberate.

  ‘Was this it?’ I stared at him as he pretended to feel no emotion while he held the beaver. ‘Was this the man I had done all this nonsense for?’ I almost got myself angry again.

  Something shifted inside me as I watched him. This wasn’t worth it.

  I had already gotten what I wanted. The beavers. And now Azul wouldn’t treat me like that again. I could tell from the trembling unsteadiness of his hands.

  He ran a hand over the pelt, fingers pressing into the fur. Searching for a flaw. His mouth twisted, but he found nothing to pick at.

  Hmph, “Didn’t ruin the coat too much. A blessing,” he muttered.

  I didn’t respond. Only stared at him with a cold, unblinking gaze.

  ‘What’s the point?’ I thought to myself, even if Azul no longer doubted me, what would it matter? I was still a peasant boy from the Mudfoot district. I still wouldn’t be able to cultivate. Nothing had changed.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  ‘No. I had larger things to focus on. Much larger.’ And I was tired, the night weighed on me. My muscles screamed out, and I was still reeling from meeting the spirit beast.

  Azul sighed. “This is better than last time. Didn’t think you had it in you. Guess you really can fulfill the order, eh?” He chuckled.

  But I didn’t laugh along with him. I was still angry. After what he had said. After how he had treated me over the past couple of months, and now I was here with proof. Proof that I wasn’t some failure. A dog trying to play tiger.

  And yet, he ignored it. Ignored everything he’d said before—about how I couldn’t cultivate, how I’d never be able to follow through. The more he pretended it never happened, the more I simmered.

  "I'll be back tomorrow for payment," I said, already turning to leave. "Full price."

  I had bigger things to do, and right then, I needed sleep. The rest could wait.

  Jin Hao shook, finally coming to his senses, and he looked around from his seated position by the smooth, flat wall. ‘How long had it been?’ He had to leave. Quick. Before his father sent men to look for him.

  He took the book and left the cave, the walls of the Khan’s secret room automatically closing behind him.

  Halfway through, when he was sure he was safe, he sat down to read again.

  The hut door creaked as I shoved it open. Darkness greeted me, along with the faint scent of old wood and a freshly snuffed-out oil lamp.

  I made it two steps before my knees nearly gave out. I danced in and out of consciousness for a moment before I caught myself against the door handle.

  My body felt like a weighted rock, and wounds I'd ignored during the hunt now demanded my attention. Bruises bloomed beneath my skin like dark flowers. Avoiding predators on the trek back had come with its own problems.

  I collapsed onto the mat in the corner, not bothering to remove my bloodied clothes.

  Sleep found me before I could think, then a small voice broke through my exhaustion. "Khan?"

  Huo Mei. The youngest stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  "Go back to sleep," I muttered.

  She didn't move. Her eyes were wide, taking in the blood, the dirt. "Are you hurt?"

  "I'm fine." The words came out sharper and more slurred than I intended.

  Huo Qianlei appeared behind Huo Mei, a small bundle of rushlights in his hands. “Khan? What happened to you?”

  I couldn’t bring up the strength to answer. I hadn’t told him that I was going to hunt for beavers. ‘How long was I gone?’ The way they were reacting made it seem like more than a day. ‘Had I lost track of time?’

  Slowly, I closed my heavy eyelids again, and when I opened them, he was back with a cloth in his hands.

  I shifted on the mat, trying to find a position that didn't aggravate my wounds.

  Huo Qianlei sighed, dipping the cloth into the bowl of water. “You’re making a name for yourself.”

  I said nothing.

  He wrung out the towel. Water dripped into the bowl, slow and steady. He didn’t look at me as he spoke again. “You’re young. You know that? You have far more money than a boy your age should.”

  “Why do this? You’ll reach marrying age soon. Won’t you want grandchildren from your parents?”

  I flinched, but he didn’t notice.

  “What is there to prove?” I hadn’t told him about my cultivation dreams. What was the point in getting so close? I had learned my lesson.

  “Is it the sect test? Cultivation?”

  This time, I ignored him completely, shying away to the edge of the mat, further into the darkness. The cold corner.

  He kept talking, but I didn’t listen, mumbling some things to him before I drifted off to sleep.

  Morning came too soon, dragging me from a sleep that did nothing to relax me. And my wounds had stiffened overnight, every movement a slow painful fight, a reminder of the hunt. And I got up—

  In the wrong bed.

  My body tensed. This wasn’t mine. I looked around. It was Huo Qianlei’s.

  I shot to my feet immediately, jaw tightening as pain flared through my ribs. I quickly put my hand over it, like I was comforting a crying newborn.

  Stepping back, I tried to leave the room, I’d had too much etiquette beaten into take advantage of Huo Qianlei’s kindness like that. My father would have never allowed it.

  Guest or not, I knew my place. A man should sleep in his own bed, not another’s. I straightened, exhaling slowly. Next time, I’d sleep on the floor.

  Huo Qianlei had left a bowl of herbal salve and clean bandages.

  I dipped my fingers into the paste and winced as I smeared it over my wounds. It burned.

  Then, I flexed my fingers, testing the stiffness in my knuckles, when the sound of boots scuffing against the doorway made me pause.

  The air shifting was the first thing I noticed. A heavy presence then, the footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Far more than just one man.

  ‘Huo Qianlei?’ I looked at the door.

  My stomach coiled tight. Not now.

  The overseer stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

  “I heard you brought in some fine pelts,” he said.

  I straightened, my grip tightening around the bandage in my hands.

  "Word travels," he continued. "A little rat of mine is talking. Those beavers—they're worth more than your usual catch.” He bit on a duck bone he had in his hand. *Crunch* “I'll be taking my cut."

  He stepped inside, his silhouette cutting against the morning light. Behind him, a few of his men loomed in the shadows.

  I exhaled slowly, fingers curling into a fist on the fabric of my robe.

  Of course…