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4. Veiled Intentions
🕑 Added 2025-03-29 05:58:05 +0000 UTCThe Azure Sky Sect’s mountain loomed ahead, shrouded in clouds. Lu Heng landed at the outer gates in a controlled descent, his robes settling around him as he strode past the disciples manning the gates.
The Sect’s inner halls bustled at all hours of the day – disciples sparring in open courtyards, others meditating in quiet alcoves, elders moving with measured purpose. Lu Heng ignored it all, making his way to the Grand Hall. He had already called for a meeting using the sending stone he habitually carried with him. If not for how easy it was to intercept such transmissions, he would have been happy to convey all of the important information without having left Wúyè – but considering how often the Hollow Fangs had slipped away from justice in the past, it was too great a risk.
By the time he stepped inside, the other Elders were already waiting. Some stood in quiet discussion, others took their seats along the curved wooden table at the centre of the room. Elder Shen was the first to glance up, sharp-eyed as always.
“Elder Lu,” he greeted. “Your message was vague, but the matter sounded urgent.”
Lu Heng inclined his head. “Indeed, Elder Shen,” he responded. “I thank my fellow Elders for responding so promptly.” The formalities were occasionally annoying, but long experience had taught him that to ignore them was to invite trouble from the more… ornery elders.
“Well, out with it, Lu Heng,” Ren Li spoke up with a characteristic lack of manners, leaning back in her chair. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait for our monthly get-togethers?”
Lu Heng didn’t allow any of the amusement he felt to cross his face. Ren Li had never much cared for propriety – something that had earned her more than her share of enemies. Personally, Lu Heng admired her willingness to make her opinion known.
“I have received news that Liǔxī village was razed two days past by the Hollow Fangs. A survivor managed to escape and bring word to me in Wúyè.”
There was a beat of silence before Ren Li leaned forward and smacked the table in front of her. “Hah! Finally, the bastards slip up. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on Gao Leng for years now.”
Across the table, Elder Shen nodded. “This is long overdue. If we strike swiftly, we can finally put an end to this stain on the Sect’s name. Two days headstart is not ideal, but it is more notice than we have ever received before. I move that we send a force of disciples immediately, before the chance is lost.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the hall. Even the more reserved elders, those who typically hesitated before committing to action, looked resolved. The Hollow Fangs had been an embarrassment for too long – not that Lu Heng was surprised by the call to action. Besides Gao Leng, the Hollow Fangs were a mortal gang of bandits. There was no danger to be had, no risk to be taken in wiping them out.
“Elder Lu Heng,” Shen continued, “this matter is yours to lead. You brought the report, you know the details. Do you—”
“I will take command of this attack,” Yan Zhihao interrupted. “My disciples can be ready within the hour.”
Silence fell. A few elders turned their heads sharply while Lu Heng blinked in surprise. He’d certainly never gotten on terribly well with Yan Zhihao, but they had never been antagonistic either. This sort of demand was well outside the bounds of propriety – all but a slap in the face to Lu Heng, though, to be honest, he was more confused than offended.
A certain amount of politics was accepted for an Elder – even required – but Lu Heng largely tried to stay outside of it. He just couldn’t see what Yan Zhihao had to gain from such a brazen demand.
Elder Shen’s eyes narrowed. “Elder Yan, you presume too much. This falls to Lu Heng.”
Yan Zhihao inclined his head, though not in apology. “And yet, the matter concerns me most. Gao Leng was my disciple. It is my responsibility to see him cut down.”
“Responsibility?” Ren Li scoffed. “Where has this sense of responsibility been for the last few years?”
Yan Zhihao ignored her. “This is an opportunity to correct my mistake. A mistake that, I might remind you, reflects upon the Sect as a whole. It is only fitting that I be the one to resolve it.”
…Lu Heng could see the reasoning, but even still it would be more fitting for Yan Zhihao to request command of the attack, not demand it.
“I have also contributed more to the sect than most,” Yan Zhihao added smoothly. “For years, I have taken in and trained promising disciples, ensuring the strength of our future generations. Surely, that deserves some recognition.”
A few of the elders stiffened. Again, the argument did make sense – but only when viewed without context. Since when did the Elder measure contribution like that? Even if they did, what bearing would it have on this situation? The point was to eradicate the bandits that had been preying on the mortals for years – it was as simple as that. Politics should have no part of it.
Yan Zhihao smiled. “In contrast, Elder Lu Heng, you have not taken on disciples in some time. For all your wandering among mortals, one might think you would have found some worth sponsoring by now. Give a fellow Elder some face and relinquish command of the attack.”
The silence that followed was thick, incredulous. A few elders straightened in their seats, some leaning forward as if they had misheard. Ren Li let out a short, sharp laugh, though there was no humour in it.
Elder Shen, the nominal leader of this meeting, was clearly not amused. His lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers tapping once against the table before he inhaled to speak. Lu Heng could already tell what he was about to say—Yan Zhihao had pushed too far, had all but demanded a rebuke.
Lu Heng lifted a hand before Elder Shen could open his mouth.
The movement was small, but it was enough.
Elder Shen paused, though his disapproval didn’t fade. The other elders were watching, waiting.
Lu Heng turned to Yan Zhihao, studying him with open curiosity.
It was too much. The demand, the reasoning, the way he’d worded it—arrogant, yes, but so overtly so that it verged on foolishness. Yan Zhihao was an ambitious man, but he wasn’t reckless. He knew how to maneuver within the Sect, how to press advantages without overplaying his hand. This? This was blatant.
It almost felt deliberate.
Lu Heng had no doubt that Yan Zhihao wanted the credit for bringing down Gao Leng. That much was obvious. But this level of provocation was unnecessary. He could have made a more measured case and worn down the opposition with persistence instead of brute force. Yet, instead, he had all but forced the elders into a position where they had to deny him.
Unless.
Lu Heng’s fingers flexed against the wood of the table.
Unless that was what he wanted.
There were few things that could truly damage an Elder’s standing within the Sect. Open disrespect toward a fellow Elder, however, could do it—especially if it led to official censure.
Why, though?
Lu Heng didn’t have an answer, not yet. But he had learned long ago that curiosity and caution should go hand in hand.
He let out a quiet breath, then inclined his head.
“If Elder Yan Zhihao wishes to take responsibility for the attack,” Lu Heng said evenly, “then I see no reason to stand in his way. After all, we all want the same thing here, do we not?”
For the second time, silence.
Not the stunned silence from before, but something heavier. Calculating.
Ren Li’s brow furrowed. A few of the elders exchanged brief glances, sharp-eyed. Some, like Elder Shen, looked displeased—but others had caught on, even if they did not yet understand why.
Yan Zhihao himself hesitated for half a heartbeat before his expression smoothed.
“I appreciate Elder Lu Heng’s graciousness,” he said, voice carefully even.
Lu Heng smiled, mild as ever.
“The sect comes first.”
“Very well,” Elder Shen said slowly. “If Elder Lu Heng is willing to… accept your request,” he stressed the word, “Then who are we to argue? With that said, this is a matter that affects the entire Sect and will be handled as such. You will not bring only your personal disciples. The force will be chosen from all of our disciples.”
Yan Zhihao’s expression tightened for the briefest moment before he bowed. “As the Sect wills.”
And with that, the Elders dispersed, each leaving to notify their disciples of the attack.
Lu Heng remained seated.
The room emptied quickly, but the tension did not. He caught the way a few elders glanced at him before they left—some considering, some wary. The stench of politics clung to the air, fouling what should have been a simple matter. The Hollow Fangs should have been a problem easily resolved, a threat eliminated without question. Yet now, doubt had settled in the cracks.
Had he made the right move?
His fingers drummed once against the table before he stilled them. It hardly mattered. The choice had been made. If Yan Zhihao had another motive for his posturing, it would come to light soon enough.
Lu Heng exhaled softly, rising to his feet. He had a journey back to Wúyè ahead of him—and a boy he wanted to speak to again.
