The camp was slowly unraveling, tension woven into every word exchanged around the dying fires. The harsh reality of the North Plains had worn the survivors down to their very core. Hui Jian, seated quietly near the outer edge of the group, observed everything with keen eyes, his mind turning like the gears of a well-oiled machine. He had no desire to lead openly; that was a task for fools, those too eager to grasp power without understanding the price.
Instead, he preferred to pull the strings from the shadows.
The raids he had orchestrated, carefully planned and executed with precision, had bought the camp a few extra days of survival. The beastmen had been driven back, for now, but the victory felt hollow. Supplies were dwindling, and trust within the camp was eroding faster than the rations. The so-called leaders of the camp were divided—some wanted to flee to safer lands in the south, while others foolishly believed they could fortify their defenses. Both options, in Hui Jian's mind, were doomed.
He knew survival here meant something different: adaptability, patience, and most importantly, control over the people who could make or break the camp's future. Yet, he maintained his outward neutrality, offering only the occasional strategic advice, never putting himself in the center of decisions.
He liked it that way. It allowed him to work in the shadows.
That evening, just as the cold bite of dusk settled in, a shadow crossed his campfire. Hui Jian looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was Tao Lin, Tao Xun's younger sister. She had the same intense, searching eyes as her brother, though now they were lined with worry.
"Hui Jian," she began, her voice soft but edged with tension. "You've been out there, in the wilderness, longer than most. Have you seen my brother?"
The question struck harder than it should have. Hui Jian had expected this sooner, but still, he felt a flicker of guilt twist in his chest. His face remained impassive, giving nothing away.
"I haven't," he lied smoothly, his eyes meeting hers. "The last time I saw him was before the last raid."
Tao Lin's eyes searched his, looking for something—doubt, perhaps. She seemed unconvinced but unwilling to press further. "He's been gone too long. No word, no sign... It's not like him."
Hui Jian allowed a small sigh to escape his lips. "The North Plains claim lives easily," he said softly, glancing toward the dark horizon. "But he's strong. Maybe he found shelter somewhere."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, and then she nodded, though reluctantly. "If you hear anything..."
"I'll let you know," he finished for her.
As she walked away, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the camp, Hui Jian felt the weight of his deception settle heavier than before. But it was necessary. Tao Xun had been a threat, one that had to be dealt with. Now, his sister's concern was just another burden to carry.
He stared into the flickering flames, the guilt threatening to surface, but he forced it down, steeling his resolve. There was no room for weakness here. Not now.
As the night grew darker, Hui Jian retreated to his tent, pulling out the small, frost-covered Frozen Mind Gu from its hiding place. He had been toying with it for days now, learning its intricacies, experimenting with its effects. The Gu was weak, barely clinging to life, but it held potential. If he could unlock its true power, it would give him an edge, sharpening his mind, enhancing his mental clarity for more precise and strategic decisions.
Sitting cross-legged, he allowed the faint energy of the Gu to flow into him, its cold tendrils creeping into his thoughts. For a moment, his mind cleared completely, the noise of the camp, the tension, the guilt—it all faded. He could feel his thoughts crystallizing, becoming sharper, more refined.
There was more to this Gu than met the eye, and Hui Jian suspected its effects would grow over time, especially if he could find a way to refine it further.
His fingers brushed the other Gu in his possession—the Mind Flower Gu—dormant, hidden away from the world. Refining it was still out of his reach, but that didn't mean he couldn't prepare. He knew it would become his secret weapon in the future. But for now, he needed to stay under the radar, biding his time.
The Frozen Mind Gu would be his tool for now, helping him maintain control and clarity as the chaos around him grew.
The camp was growing more unstable by the day. Beastmen had been spotted closer to the perimeter, and food was running low. The leaders were arguing more openly now, their voices carrying across the camp as they bickered about whether to flee or stay.
Hui Jian, as always, remained on the sidelines, but this time, he began subtly feeding information to both sides. A well-placed word here, a quiet suggestion there—it was all he needed to fan the flames of division. The more they fought, the less they would notice what he was doing.
He had already begun forming quiet alliances with some of the more capable survivors, planting the seeds of future loyalty. They didn't know it yet, but when the time came, they would follow him, not out of fear, but out of trust.
The chaos in the camp reached a peak when one of the scouts came rushing back, breathless and pale.
"A beastman warband," the scout gasped. "Coming from the north. A small one, but… they're close."
The leaders scrambled to react, their panic palpable. Some wanted to pack up and flee immediately, while others argued for holding their ground. The camp was on the verge of tearing itself apart, and that was exactly what Hui Jian had been waiting for.
He stood silently at the edge, his mind racing through the possibilities. This warband was small enough to be dealt with, but it could also be the opportunity he needed to solidify his control over the camp's future.
As the fires burned low and the leaders bickered into the night, Hui Jian made his decision.