Han Yu stood among the disciples, his expression a mirror of quiet exhaustion.
Inside, however, his thoughts were far from weary. Every step of his plan had fallen neatly into place. His Undying Life Charm was hidden where no one would find it, the hollow beneath the trunk, an anchor to his survival.
The materials he had gathered were safely stored beyond the eyes of any elder or disciple. Should death ever come for him, he had already carved out a path back.
Now, all he had to do was to continue as before: the dutiful, unremarkable disciple, one face among thousands.
He dragged his halberd along the ground as he moved back to his tent, letting the weapon's weight and his slow gait reflect the fatigue expected of someone who had fought tooth and nail against the tide. He allowed his robes to remain torn, his hands to remain stained. Every detail reinforced the story of his survival.
