Li Mei's rage was a tangible thing, a freezing, black aura that made the small courtyard feel
brittle. Ren Wei's "leash" was a wire of ice, thrumming with her homicidal intent.
"He will die," she hissed, her voice a low vibration. "I don't care about his family. I'll use a
'Breathless Toxin.' It mimics Qi-collapse. They'll think he failed in his cultivation. It will be—"
"No." Ren Wei's voice was not pleading. It was a cold, hard command. It was the "Head"
speaking, and for the first time, it was her rage he had to manage, not his own fear.
She froze, her head snapping up. Her eyes were wild, the pupils dilated. She was the monster,
fully unveiled.
"We can't," he said, his voice level and fast. "This isn't Jiao. This isn't a clique of arrogant fools.
This is Jin Tao. His family will investigate. They won't use a sect elder; they'll bring in their own
private alchemists and aura-readers. They will find your mark, Mei. They will find us. And we will
be... dissolved."
Her face crumpled, not in sadness, but in furious, frustrated despair. "Then... what? We run? We
let him win? We let him take me?" The thought was so vile to her that she almost choked on it.
"No," Ren Wei said. He began to pace, his mind racing, a cold, intricate plan spinning into place.
"We don't run. We don't beg. And you... 'the Hands'... you don't touch him."
He stopped, his back to her. "You were right, Mei. I'm like you. I'm a 'weaver.' So... we're going
to weave a web so perfect, so strong, that he walks into it. And the sect itself... will be the
spider."
She went still. The icy rage receded, replaced by a cold, sharp curiosity.
"We can't frame him for murder," Ren Wei said, thinking aloud. "Too messy. Too traceable. We
have to frame him for a thought-crime. For... treason. For... demonic cultivation."
It was the one charge that would neutralize his family's influence. In the righteous path of
cultivation, consorting with demons was the one, true, unforgivable sin. The Sect had to act, and
act decisively.
"How?" she whispered. "He's guarded."
"His arrogance is his weakness," Ren Wei said, a cold, thin smile touching his lips. "He wants
you. He expects me to break."
He turned to face her. "So... I will."
This was the plan. This was his choice.
"Day One," he said, holding up a finger. "I grovel. I'll send him a message: 'You win. I give up.
She's yours. But please, don't hurt me. I'll bring her to you... in secret.' We offer him his prize."
Li Mei's eyes narrowed, but she didn't protest. She trusted his art.
"Day Two," Ren Wei continued. "The meet. He won't want it public; he wants a trophy, not a
scandal. We choose the location: the old Ancestral Hall ruins. It's secluded. Perfect. And that is
where you come in, Mei."
He looked at her, the 'Head' giving the 'Hands' their task. "You prepare the stage. Your toxin
book, your 'Silken Heart' art. I don't want a mess. I want an aura. I want it to smell like death. I
want it to feel like a demonic ritual. Can you do that?"
Li Mei smiled. A slow, cold, artistic smile. This was a true challenge. "I can make the very stones
feel like they're weeping blood, my love."
"Good. Day Three. The sting. We can't be the ones to accuse him. We need an impartial,
high-status witness." He would call in his one thread. "The clerk at the Resource Hall. He'll tell
me who hates Jin Tao. Who his main rival is."
He would then send an anonymous tip to that rival.
"'Jin Tao is using a demonic ritual at the Ancestral Hall ruins to try and break through to the
seventh stage. You can catch him in the act.'"
Ren Wei's plan was complete. "His rival's greed and jealousy will do the rest," he finished. "He'll bring an Elder to be his witness. We will be the 'victims' Jin Tao was luring there to sacrifice."
He looked at Li Mei. Her face was a mask of pure, undiluted awe. This was not a simple poison.
This was a masterpiece of deception. This was his art.
"My love," she breathed, her rage gone, replaced by a cold, thrilled, devoted calm. "Tell me what
you need me to make. I will make it perfect."