The caravan had been traveling for three hours when Hanxi's senses started screaming warnings.
He couldn't explain it—couldn't point to anything specific—but every instinct the wolf fang had given him was shrieking that they were being watched. Stalked. Herded.
"Wei Feng," he called quietly as they crested a hill.
The guard captain was beside him instantly. "You feel it too?"
"We're being followed. Multiple hostiles. Tracking us for at least a mile." The words came out with certainty that surprised Hanxi. How did he know that? But he did. His nose could pick out foreign scents on the wind. His ears caught the tiny sounds of careful movement in the underbrush.
Wei Feng's expression grew grim. "How many?"
"At least twenty. Maybe more. They're staying downwind, matching our pace." Hanxi frowned. "This isn't opportunistic. They've been planning this."
"Bandits or cultivators?"
"Both. I can smell... different qi signatures. Most are ordinary bandits, but there's at least three cultivators leading them. Qi Condensation realm, maybe fourth or fifth level."
Wei Feng gave him a sharp look. "You can smell cultivation levels?"
"Apparently." Hanxi was just as surprised as the guard captain. "The wolf instincts are getting stronger."
"Or more useful." Wei Feng moved to the front of the caravan and spoke quietly with Yue Chen. The merchant lord's expression never changed, but he nodded slightly and adjusted their formation.
The wagons drew closer together. Guards moved to strategic positions. Weapons were checked with casual efficiency that wouldn't alarm the bandits watching from the forest.
Yue Lian poked her head out of her wagon. "What's happening?"
"Nothing, Miss," Xiaohua said smoothly. "Just a precaution."
But Yue Lian's eyes found Hanxi, and he saw the question there. She knew something was wrong.
They continued forward, entering a narrow stretch of road where the forest pressed close on both sides. Perfect ambush territory.
"This is it," Hanxi murmured. "They'll hit us in the next hundred paces."
Wei Feng drew his sword. "Guards! Defensive formation!"
That was all the warning they got before arrows whistled out of the trees.
The first volley was aimed at the guards—a smart tactic to thin their numbers quickly. But Wei Feng was ready. His sword flashed, knocking three arrows out of the air. Other guards raised shields, deflecting the rest.
Then the bandits charged.
Twenty-three men poured out of the forest from both sides, weapons drawn, screaming battle cries designed to sow panic. Three cultivators led the charge—two men and a woman, all wearing mismatched armor and carrying weapons glowing with qi enhancement.
"Protect the wagons!" Wei Feng commanded. "Don't let them reach the merchant lord!"
The guards formed a defensive line, but they were outnumbered two-to-one. Regular soldiers couldn't hold against cultivators for long.
Hanxi drew his sword, his heart pounding. He'd won a sparring match against Zhao, sure. But this was real combat. Life and death.
Second trial, the wolf's voice whispered in his mind. Protect the pack. This is what pack-brothers do.
One of the cultivator bandits—a massive man with a scarred face and a dao that crackled with fire qi—broke through the guard line, charging straight for Yue Lian's wagon.
Time seemed to slow.
Hanxi's body moved on instinct, placing himself between the bandit and the wagon. His sword came up in a guard position, but his stance was wrong—too aggressive, too animalistic. Less like a trained swordsman, more like a predator defending territory.
The bandit laughed. "Out of the way, boy! This doesn't concern you!"
He swung his flaming dao with enough force to split a boulder.
Hanxi didn't try to block. Instead, he ducked under the strike with fluid grace that was pure wolf, his body moving in ways human joints shouldn't quite bend. His sword lashed out—not at the man's body, but at his extended arm.
The Fang Strike technique activated instinctively. Frost exploded from Hanxi's blade at the moment of impact, freezing the bandit's arm solid from elbow to fingertips.
The cultivator's scream of shock turned to agony as his frozen fingers shattered, still gripping his dao.
Hanxi didn't stop. The wolf instinct knew: when you hunt, you finish the kill. His follow-up strike took the bandit in the throat—not deep enough to kill, but enough to put him down, choking and helpless.
One down.
The female cultivator saw her companion fall and changed targets, coming at Hanxi with twin daggers that dripped with poison. She was fast—faster than Zhao had been, faster than anyone Hanxi had faced before.
But he could smell her fear. Could hear her heartbeat accelerating. Could see the tiny tells in her footwork that telegraphed every strike.
He didn't fight like a cultivator. He fought like a wolf.
Where she expected high guards, he went low. Where she anticipated parries, he evaded. He used his body as a weapon—a shoulder check that knocked her off balance, a foot sweep that sent her sprawling, then his sword at her throat before she could recover.
"Yield," he growled, and was shocked by how much his voice sounded like an animal's threatening rumble.
She yielded.
The third cultivator, seeing two companions defeated in seconds, made the smart choice and ran. The remaining bandits, losing their leadership, broke and scattered into the forest.
The entire fight had lasted less than three minutes.
Wei Feng was staring at Hanxi with something between approval and concern. "Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?"
"I... don't know." Hanxi looked down at his hands. They were trembling, not from fear but from adrenaline. From the thrill of the hunt. From the satisfaction of protecting his pack.
Trial complete, the wolf's voice rumbled with approval. You protect what is yours. Good. The pack accepts this.
But Hanxi felt sick. He'd enjoyed that. Enjoyed the violence, the efficiency of taking down prey—no, enemies. They were enemies, not prey.
But in the moment, his instincts hadn't made that distinction.
"Young Master Wāng!" Yue Lian rushed out of her wagon, Xiaohua close behind. "That was incredible! You moved like—like—"
"Like a beast," Xiaohua finished, her hand still on her sword hilt. Her eyes were sharp, analytical, dangerous. "I've seen cultivators use beast-mimicry techniques before, but that was different. That wasn't mimicry. That was..."
"Instinct," Yue Lian said softly, staring at Hanxi with an expression he couldn't read. "That was pure instinct. Like you've been hunting all your life."
"I trained at the Sunlight Phoenix Sect," Hanxi said automatically. "We learn various techniques—"
"The Sunlight Phoenix Sect teaches solar cultivation and traditional sword arts," Xiaohua interrupted. "They don't teach students to fight like predatory beasts. They don't teach techniques that generate frost instead of flame." She stepped closer. "Young Master Wāng, I'm going to ask you a direct question, and I advise you to answer honestly. Are you practicing demonic cultivation?"
"No!" Hanxi said immediately. "I'm not—it's not demonic. It's just... unusual."
"Unusual how?"
"Xiaohua, stand down." Yue Chen's voice cut through the tension. The merchant lord approached, his expression calm but his eyes serious. "Young Master Wāng fought to protect my daughter. That's all that matters to me."
"Master Yue, with respect, if he's practicing forbidden techniques—"
"Then that's his business, not ours." Yue Chen's tone brooked no argument. "Unless he gives us reason to believe he's a threat to Yue Lian, his cultivation methods are his own concern." He turned to Hanxi. "Though I would appreciate knowing if there are any... complications we should be aware of. For safety purposes."
Hanxi looked at the circle of faces watching him. Wei Feng's expression was neutral but supportive. Xiaohua was suspicious and wary. Yue Chen was carefully diplomatic.
And Yue Lian was watching him with eyes that were far too knowing, far too sharp.
"My cultivation is unorthodox," Hanxi admitted carefully. "I absorbed a spirit beast's energy during my breakthrough, and it's had... side effects. But I'm not corrupted. I'm not demonic. I'm just trying to survive and understand what's happening to me."
"Side effects like enhanced instincts? Predatory combat styles? Frost-based techniques despite solar cultivation?" Yue Lian asked. Her tone wasn't accusatory—just curious.
"Yes."
She smiled then, bright and genuine. "Good! That makes you much more interesting than a normal bodyguard!" She turned to her father. "See? I told you he was special. My instincts are never wrong."
Yue Chen sighed the sigh of a father who had long since given up trying to understand his daughter. "Very well. But Young Master Wāng, I do expect you to inform us if your condition becomes... problematic."
"I will," Hanxi promised.
Xiaohua still looked unconvinced, but she sheathed her sword and returned to checking on Yue Lian's wagon.
As the caravan reorganized and prepared to continue, Wei Feng pulled Hanxi aside. "That was well done. You protected them, controlled the violence, and didn't lose yourself to the beast instincts. I'm impressed."
"I almost did lose myself," Hanxi admitted quietly. "For a moment there, I wasn't thinking about defeating enemies. I was thinking about killing prey."
"But you didn't act on it. That's what matters." Wei Feng clapped him on the shoulder. "The instincts will always be there. The key is deciding which ones to follow and which ones to ignore. You're learning faster than I expected."
"The wolf said this was a trial. The second trial."
Wei Feng's expression grew serious. "What was the first?"
"Hunting. Proving I could provide for the pack." Hanxi gestured at the forest. "I passed that one last night, apparently. Now I've proven I can protect."
"Which means there's a third trial coming." Wei Feng's hand moved to his sword. "Any idea what it might be?"
"Sacrifice. The wolf said I'd have to prove I understand sacrifice." Hanxi felt cold dread settle in his stomach. "I don't know what that means."
"In pack dynamics? Sacrifice usually means choosing the pack over yourself. Being willing to die so others can live." Wei Feng's expression was grim. "Or it might mean something darker. Wolves sometimes cull weak pack members to ensure the strong survive."
"I won't kill innocent people."
"Good. Hold onto that conviction." Wei Feng started walking back to his position. "But be prepared, kid. The third trial is always the hardest. It's the one that determines if you're truly pack... or just prey wearing pack's clothing."
That night, the caravan made camp near a small stream. Everyone was on edge after the bandit attack, but Wei Feng assured them the bandits wouldn't return—not after losing their cultivators.
Hanxi sat by his tent, finally opening the letter Senior Sister Mei had given him. Her handwriting was elegant, practiced.
Junior Brother Hanxi,
If you're reading this, you've already left the sect. I hope the journey is treating you well. I hope you're being careful.
Elder Cloudwhisker came to me after you departed. He asked me to watch for any unusual behavior from you during your time here. I told him the truth—that you've always been unusual, but never dangerous. That seemed to satisfy him, though he remains concerned.
He also told me something interesting. Three hundred years ago, when the sect was founded, Feng Tianyang wasn't alone. He had a teacher—someone who taught him the Solar Vein Cultivation method. But the historical records are... incomplete. The teacher's name has been erased from every document. All that remains is a title: The Third Moon.
Elder Cloudwhisker believes this teacher still lives. That she's been watching the sect for centuries, waiting for something. Or someone.
Hanxi, I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, but I know it's bigger than a spirit beast fang and a lucky breakthrough. Please be careful. The cultivation world has secrets that can swallow people whole.
Also, there's something I never told you. Remember when I said I was watching you during sparring? I wasn't just watching your technique. I was watching your aura. For the past two months, your qi has been flickering—gold bleeding into silver, then back again. Like watching sunset and moonrise happening simultaneously.
I've been researching in the sect library. There are legends—old legends, from before the sect was founded—about cultivators who walked the path between sun and moon. They called it the Twilight Dao. Every single one of those legends ends the same way: with the cultivator either ascending to legendary status... or dying horribly.
I'm not trying to scare you. I just want you to understand what you might be facing. And I want you to know that no matter what happens, you have friends here. People who care about you. People who will help you if you ask.
Come back safely, Junior Brother. The sect is quieter without you getting beaten up during morning practice.
Your Senior Sister, Mei
P.S. - If you encounter anyone calling themselves a practitioner of the Dusk Codex, run immediately and break Elder Cloudwhisker's communication talisman. Don't try to fight them. Don't try to negotiate. Just run. Promise me.
Hanxi read the letter three times, his heart heavy. Mei had known something was wrong and hadn't reported him. She'd protected him, researched for him, cared enough to send a warning.
He pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a response:
Senior Sister Mei,
Thank you for the warning. You're right—I'm in deeper than I realized. But I'm learning to control it. I have help, surprisingly. And I'm starting to understand that this path, whatever it is, might be exactly what I need.
The wolf fang wasn't from a tiger. It was from a Lunar Frost Wolf, and the wolves are... aware of me. They're testing me. I don't fully understand why, but I know I need to pass their trials or they'll hunt me down.
I've already faced two trials: hunting and protection. The third is coming, and I'm scared of what it might require.
But I'm also excited. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm not just the second son shining in someone else's light. I'm finding my own light—even if it's gray and strange and frightens people.
Tell Elder Cloudwhisker I'm grateful for the talisman. Tell Master Zhang I'm practicing my forms every day (mostly true). And tell yourself that I'll come back. I promise.
Also, about the Dusk Codex—I've already encountered them once. They're hunting me. If I run every time they appear, I'll never stop running. So I'm going to get stronger instead. Strong enough to fight back.
Stay safe, Senior Sister. And thank you for believing in me when no one else did.
Your Junior Brother, Hanxi
He sealed the letter and handed it to one of the caravan's messenger birds. As he watched it fly away toward the Misty Jade Mountains, he felt the weight of decision settle on his shoulders.
No more running. No more hiding. Whatever he was becoming, he needed to embrace it.
Even if it terrified him.