The storm came like a hammer from the heavens, tearing through the North Plains with fierce winds and sheets of freezing rain. The once still camp now bustled with activity, as survivors scrambled to secure their meager shelters and keep their fires alive. The weather had already claimed some of their supplies, and the chill threatened to sap the last vestiges of strength from their bones.
Hui Jian stood at the edge of the camp, his gaze sweeping over the scene, ever calm amidst the chaos. The storm was an inconvenience, but not unexpected. What concerned him more was the growing tension beneath the surface—the whispers, the lingering glances, the shifting loyalties. There was more to worry about than just the weather.
The council had become quieter around him. Once, their words had been full of panic and desperate pleas for action. But now, there was something else—suspicion, perhaps fear. Hui Jian had sensed it for days, but he had remained outwardly unconcerned. He knew that his influence was growing, and with it, the enemies who would want to see him gone. The attempted ambush in the storm would just be another piece in the game.
As night fell, the storm intensified. Trees groaned under the weight of the wind, and branches snapped like bones in the dark. Fires flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the faces of the camp's inhabitants.
Hui Jian moved deliberately through the storm, checking on various groups, offering advice, and appearing the very image of calm control. All the while, he kept one eye on the shadows—the figures who had been avoiding his gaze for days now.
He had suspected that someone would make a move, but it wasn't until the storm began that he realized how perfect the opportunity was for them. Under the cover of the storm's chaos, any "accident" could be excused. And the dying tree near his tent—the one that had been carefully tampered with—would be the perfect weapon.
As the winds howled, Hui Jian calmly approached the tree, aware of the plot. He had seen the subtle marks left behind by the saboteurs and understood the significance. They wanted him gone, quietly, with no blood on their hands. But they had made one mistake: underestimating his ability to play along.
Hui Jian positioned himself near the tree, making it seem as though he had no idea what was about to happen. His sharp eyes darted over the scene, catching glimpses of the plotters lurking just out of sight, waiting for the inevitable moment.
The wind intensified, and with it, the groaning of the tree. A few others in the camp turned their heads, noticing the danger too late. Hui Jian stood perfectly still, his mind calculating the trajectory, the timing. He felt the pulse of the Beast Strength Gu within him, its primal energy coiling like a serpent, ready to be unleashed.
Then it happened.
With a sharp crack, the ancient pine gave way, tilting toward Hui Jian's tent, the heavy trunk hurtling toward him. Gasps echoed from those nearby as they realized what was happening. But Hui Jian did not move.
Just as the tree came crashing down, he stepped forward, extending his arms and letting the raw power of the Beast Strength Gu flood his muscles. In a single, fluid motion, he caught the tree, his arms straining under its immense weight, but holding it steady. The ground shook with the impact, but Hui Jian's feet remained firmly planted.
The plotters, hidden among the shadows, watched in disbelief as Hui Jian held the tree aloft, his calm expression unbroken. He glanced briefly toward where they hid, his eyes flickering with a cold warning.
With a grunt of effort, Hui Jian shifted the tree, pushing it aside with a final burst of strength. It crashed harmlessly to the ground, sending snow and dirt flying in all directions.
For a moment, the camp was silent. Then, slowly, people began to move again, their eyes wide with shock and awe. Hui Jian, always so unassuming, had just demonstrated a strength that no one had expected.
The camp was abuzz with whispers in the hours that followed. People speculated about the source of Hui Jian's strength, and some began to look at him with newfound respect—others with fear.
One of the council members, a man named Fang Ru, approached him cautiously after the storm had settled. "You... saved the camp," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "That tree... it would have crushed you."
Hui Jian offered a modest smile, his eyes betraying nothing. "Just luck," he said simply.
But it wasn't luck, and Fang Ru knew it. The councilman's eyes darted nervously around the camp, searching for something—perhaps an explanation for how Hui Jian had done it, or perhaps a way to avoid what was coming next.
Back in the shadows, the conspirators huddled together, their plan in tatters. "He knew," one of them whispered, their voice shaking. "He knew all along."
"What do we do now?" another asked, panic rising in their voice.
"We wait," said the leader of the group, his face pale but determined. "He's showing his strength, but he's playing a bigger game. If we act too rashly, we'll be exposed."
But Hui Jian wasn't waiting for them to make the next move. He had already won. The tree had been more than just a display of strength—it had been a message. He had exposed their treachery without ever saying a word. And now, the camp was watching, wondering what else Hui Jian was capable of.
The conspirators were caught in a web of their own making, and Hui Jian would be ready when they tried again.
As the night deepened, Hui Jian stood at the edge of the camp once more, watching the storm recede. He could feel the tension in the air, the shifting alliances, the fear growing among those who had tried to kill him. They would move cautiously now, unsure of how much he knew, and that was exactly how he wanted it.
His fingers flexed, still tingling from the power of the Beast Strength Gu. He had shown just enough strength to remind the camp of his presence, but not so much that they would see the true extent of his power.
The real game had only just begun.