I Only Wanted to Stay Unseen, Until...

At dusk, Chen Haunt's squad trudged back toward the jarl's sprawling mansion. Exhaustion clung to them. Sil Deshah, though, was the worst of the lot—swaying on the edge of collapse. Her face was ashen, drained of all color, and he slumped against Chen Haunt's broad shoulder, half-dragged, half-carried.

Nearly dropped the lantern as the guest courtyard's director scurried toward them. "Oh, holy sect above! Immortal Masters, what's happened to you all?" His voice trembled, caught between awe and terror as he wrung his hands. "Should I call Mister Steward? He could fetch a healer—or, or something!"

Chen Haunt waved a dismissive hand, his own expression carved from stone, though a faint sheen of sweat betrayed his fatigue. "No need for all that fuss," he rasped, pausing to gulp down a steadying breath. "It's just been a long, cursed day. Nothing we can't handle. Fetch us some fresh water and we'll wash the dust off ourselves." His dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the courtyard. "Wait—where's Junior Brother Pay?"

Their clamor had stirred the mansion's mortal staff. Surely Pay Ling—a cultivator—couldn't have slept through it. Yet the courtyard remained silent, no sign of the young junior disciple anywhere.

Chen Haunt whirled on Chen Mave, his younger sister, who stood nearby rubbing her aching arms. "Mave, quit standing there go check on him! Junior Brother Pay might've caught some foul sickness."

Chen Mave groaned, her shoulders slumping, but she knew better than to argue with her brother when his voice took that edge. She darted off, her footsteps echoing through the arched stone corridors. When she reached the courtyard, the absence of Pay Ling made her felt unease. She cornered a trembling servant girl and demanded, "Where's Pay Ling? Speak up!"

The girl dropped to her knees, her hands clasped as if pleading for mercy. "I-I don't know, Immortal Fairy! He was here, then he… he wasn't!" Her voice quivered, barely above a whisper.

Chen Mave's face darkened, her delicate features twisting into a scowl. "You don't know? You're his attendant—your whole job is to know!" Her voice rose. Panic clawed at her chest, her mind racing with the worst possibilities. Chen Haunt's Summon Soul Banner was so close to completion. Months of grueling work, countless sacrifices… If Pay Ling had slipped away now, it could all unravel like a thread pulled from a tapestry. "Useless cunt!"

"Enough, Mave." Arriving after hearing the fuss, Chen Haunt called as he strode into the courtyard. 

He wasn't worried about Pay Ling escaping. Over the years, he'd deceived and took away plenty of sect comrades to fuel his banner, always slipping through the Punishment Crypt's grasping fingers. His hands were stained, yes, but the evidence? Spotless. This trip to Lothgar City had been his choice for a reason. The vast mountains and forgotten valleys were a perfect stage for his dark craft. 

This trip to Lothgar City hadn't been chosen at random. Chen Haunt had selected it with meticulous care, and for good reason. Nestled deep within the rugged, mist-shrouded mountains, the city was a fortress of isolation. Beyond its walls, the wilderness was a treacherous expanse teeming with demonic beasts and suffused with toxic miasma. Even veteran Qi Refinement cultivators would find it a death sentence to venture far on foot. For someone like Pay Ling, a newcomer to the area? The idea of him escaping into that nightmare was laughable.

Let him run for days, even nights—they'd still catch him without breaking a sweat.

But there was more to it than that. Lothgar City was under the domination of the Abyss Pit Sect, and Jarl Drainwood, its ruler, was a man of calculated diplomacy. While he wouldn't openly shield Pay Ling, he also wouldn't turn a blind eye if they killed him within the city limits. If the Sect Punishment Crypt caught wind of it, Drainwood might not cover for them, and the fine for voluntary manslaughter would be astronomical.

However, if Pay Ling were to flee beyond the city walls… well, that was a different story entirely.

Chen Haunt's lips curled into a faint smirk as he turned to Chen Mave. "Didn't you dose him with Thousand-Mile Incense? Use the Tracer Bee. Find him."

Chen Mave's eyes widened as the solution dawned on her. She nodded quickly, summoning the Tracer Bee from a small jade vial. After a brief moment of communion with the bee, Chen Mave's expression brightened. "Brother, he's still in the city!"

"In the city?" Chen Haunt's smile turned icy, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Where exactly?"

Chen Mave focused, her brow furrowing as she relayed the bee's findings. "It seems… the north market?"

"The market?" Chen Haunt's gaze snapped to the trembling maid who had been serving Pay Ling. His voice was like a whip crack, cold and cutting. "How dare you lie to us! Pay Ling's new here—if he wanted to go to the market, he'd have asked for directions! And yet you claim ignorance?!"

The servant girl's face drained of color. As a mere mortal, she was powerless against the wrath of cultivators. Her voice quivered as she stammered, "Immortal Master, he… he told me not to tell anyone where he went…"

Chen Mave's face twitched, a flicker of unease crossing her features. Did Pay Ling suspect them? The thought sent a ripple of tension through her.

Chen Haunt, however, remained unshaken. A fourth-layer cultivator, even if he'd caught a whiff of their plans, was no real threat. It was already too late for Pay Ling to do anything about it.

Turning to Cheung Joer'tin, Chen Haunt issued his command with calm. "He might've figured something out—or not. It doesn't matter. You two, head to the north market now. Bring him back."

"Aye!"

----------

Meanwhile, in a quaint teahouse nestled in the heart of Lothgar City's bustling north market, Pay Ling sat by a window, sipping tea. The city was a stark contrast to Deerspring—more vibrant, more chaotic, and far more crowded with cultivators. On his way to the market, he had already spotted several free-lancer cultivators.

"It's getting late," Pay Ling mused as he swirled the tea in his cup. "Chen Haunt's squad should come sniffing around soon." His plan was simple: to test their intentions, he only needed to stay hidden from Chen Haunt for a while. If the group harbored malicious intentions, their reactions would reveal the truth.

But he couldn't push too hard. If they were indeed vicious, provoking them prematurely could backfire. That's why he had chosen the market—a crowded, public space where any overt action would draw attention. If Chen Haunt dared to strike here, the Abyss Pit Sect's Punishment Crypt would have no trouble tracking down the evidence later. 

A squad scraping by for a few dozen spirit stones couldn't possibly afford a fine of ten thousand stones. And unless they planned to wipe out every mortal in the market to cover their sin—something Jarl Drainwood would never allow—they wouldn't risk it.

Lost in thought, Pay Ling was jolted back to reality by a sharp shout.

"Pay Ling!"

It was Chen Mave's voice. Pay Ling's eyes flickered briefly before settling into a mask of calm. He turned slowly, his expression neutral, as Chen Mave darted toward him, Cheung Joer'tin following close behind. They positioned themselves on either side of him, their movements deliberate, almost predatory.

Chen Mave's voice was stern, her eyes narrowing as she demanded, "Didn't you say you'd rest at the guest courtyard today? Why'd you sneak out?!"

Pay Ling remained unflappable, his demeanor calm. Their reaction was off—too tense, too urgent. It confirmed his suspicions. Something was indeed amiss.

"Senior Sister Chen... " he replied casually, "I meant to rest, but after lying down for a while, I couldn't sleep. So I decided to step out for a bit. I didn't want to disturb you all if you were resting too."

Cheung Joer'tin's face darkened, his voice low and edged with irritation. "We're teammates. You should've let us know before wandering off. Vanishing like that—how could we not worry?"

Pay Ling nodded, his expression earnest. "You're right, Senior Brother Cheung. I was too careless and irresponsible. My apologies."

Seeing no signs of panic or guilt on Pay Ling's face—he's just out for a casual stroll—Chen Mave and Cheung Joer'tin seemed to ease up slightly. They exchanged a quick glance, and Chen Mave's tone softened, though her words still carried a hint of reproach. "Fine, I'll let it slide this time. But if you do this again, we're done talking."

Pay Ling dipped his head slightly, his tone sincere. "Senior Sister, I'm sorry for upsetting you. Don't worry—if anything comes up, I'll let you know. It won't happen again. It's getting late—let's head back to the mansion."

His words seemed to placate them. Chen Mave and Cheung Joer'tin nodded without hesitation. "Right. Back to the mansion."

The trio set off, weaving through the crowded market.

Under the shimmering glow of a twilight sky, Pay Ling clung to Chen Mave like a shadow stitched to her every curve. Her body was a tantalizing mystery, and as they walked, he pressed himself closer, his nose brushing against her silken hair. A sweet, intoxicating fragrance wafted from her, teasing his senses.

Chen Mave's delicate brows furrowed. She wanted to shove this clingy junior brother away—oh, how she longed to snap at him, to escape his brazen touch! However if Pay Ling caught even a whiff of their real intentions, her brother's plan would be impacted. So, she bit her tongue, enduring his presence with a simmering, silent fury.

As they ventured deeper into the bustling streets, Pay Ling's arm—once casually slung over her shoulder—slid lower, tracing the elegant dip of her slender waist. His warm palm grazed her hip, lingering there with a boldness that made her skin tingle. 

Chen Mave's stunning face stiffened, a flush of outrage creeping up her neck. "Junior Brother Pay, what you doing!" she hissed, her voice a sharp blade wrapped in silk.

Pay Ling tilted his head, his eyes wide with feigned innocence, lips curling into a pout. "Senior Sister Chen, you've been so kind, so special to me… Don't you like me?" His tone dripped with disappointment.

Breath hitched, Chen Mave shot a glance at Cheung Joer'tin, her stoic companion trailing a few steps behind. To her dismay, he didn't intervene—instead, he gave a subtle nod, urging her to play along! Her stomach twisted, but with Pay Ling's earnest stare boring into her, she forced a smile, her voice trembling slightly. "Hmph… Maybe… just a little…"

Pay Ling's face lit up like a triumphant sun. "See? We're cultivators of the boundless Dao—seekers of the infinite skies! Fierce, free, unshackled by mortal rules!" He punctuated his poetic outburst by abandoning her shoulder entirely, his arm snaking around her slender waist instead. With a bold tug, he pulled her closer, their thighs brushing with every step as they strutted toward the jarl's mansion.

Her warmth seeped into him, her soft, trembling thigh a tantalizing rhythm against his own. His hand, restless and daring, crept upward from her waist, inching toward the gentle swell beneath her chest. A fleeting brush here, a teasing graze there—each touch disguised as an accident, yet brimming with intent.

As they passed a crowded street, mortal citizens bustling around them. His fingers darted forward, pinching her nipple through the fabric with a sudden, shameless flick.

"Ah!" Chen Mave yelped, her voice slicing through the air as she nearly tore herself from his grasp. 

Cheung Joer'tin's head snapped toward her, drawn by the sound. In that fleeting moment of chaos, Pay Ling's other hand slipped into a mortal passerby's pouch and stealing a delicate lady's sachet.

Chen Mave caught the motion of grope only, her rage boiling over as she realized it was the same hand that had dared to grope her. Yet Cheung Joer'tin, now relaxed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. This lustful fool was outrageous, yes, but their wicked plan remained safely hidden. The brat suspected nothing.

Emboldened, Pay Ling tightened his hold, pulling Chen Mave's head to rest against his shoulder. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply as his fingers resumed their mischief—circling, teasing, and pinching with shameless delight on her nipple.

Half an hour later, as they slipped past a whispering bamboo grove near the mansion, Pay Ling struck again. His free hand darted downward, brushing against her lower curves before delivering a daring pinch to her sensitive flesh.

Her startled cry echoed through the air, and Cheung Joer'tin's gaze flicked aside once more. Amid the distraction, Pay Ling's deft flick of his wrist, he tossed the stolen sachet behind a cluster of bamboo...