The air in the camp was thick with a tension that went beyond the biting cold of the North Plains. Whispers carried on the wind, quiet murmurs of discontent that spread from tent to tent, unseen but felt by everyone. The unease was a living thing, growing stronger with every passing day. It fed on fear, on uncertainty, and on the ever-approaching threat of the beastmen warband that loomed in the distance.
Hui Jian stood at the edge of the camp, his cloak wrapped tightly around him against the wind. His gaze swept over the scattered fires, watching as the camp struggled to maintain some semblance of order. His eyes lingered on Wei Shuang's group—the flickering flames casting nervous shadows on their faces. Their supplies were running low, their weapons dull and rusted, and there was a weariness in their movements that hadn't been there before. It was working.
Hui Jian allowed himself the faintest smile. Mei Lin had done exactly as he'd asked. The critical supplies meant for Wei Shuang's followers had quietly been diverted to other parts of the camp. It had started small—an extra ration of food here, a missing bundle of firewood there. But over time, the impact had grown. Their tools broke more often, their injuries went untreated, and their morale had plummeted.
Wei Shuang had noticed, of course. But in a camp teetering on the edge of collapse, who would believe his accusations? It was easy enough for Hui Jian to stay in the background, letting others take the blame. A few carefully placed words had seen to that.
As Hui Jian turned from the view, he made his way through the camp. Every step was deliberate, every glance measured. He stopped here and there, speaking briefly with those he had cultivated as allies—offering a suggestion, a word of encouragement. But he kept his distance from the leaders, letting Ren take the spotlight. It was important that Hui Jian remain in the shadows, where his influence could grow unnoticed.
At the center of the camp, the council had gathered once again. The atmosphere was tense, the voices low and bitter. Ren stood at the head, his face lined with exhaustion. The beastmen were closing in, and the council was scrambling to come up with a plan.
"We cannot face them head-on," Ren said, his voice firm but weary. "We have neither the numbers nor the strength."
Wei Shuang scoffed from across the table. "So what? You would have us run like cowards? We're not going to survive by hiding in this wasteland."
Hui Jian watched from the edges of the firelight, his expression neutral. Wei Shuang had become more volatile in recent days, his usual bravado giving way to desperation. The lack of supplies was taking its toll, and the cracks in his authority were beginning to show.
Ren shot a glance at Hui Jian, who gave him the slightest nod. It was all the confirmation Ren needed.
"I never said we should run," Ren replied calmly. "But if we charge in without a plan, we're dead. We need to be smart about this."
"And what do you suggest, Ren?" Wei Shuang challenged. "Another ambush? Another of your cowardly tactics?"
Ren clenched his jaw but remained composed. "Yes, an ambush. We've already proven it works. We know the terrain better than they do. If we can lure them into a narrow pass—"
Wei Shuang slammed his fist on the table. "That's the problem with you, Ren! Always thinking small. We should be preparing for war, not skulking in the shadows."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some nodded in agreement, while others exchanged uncertain glances. Wei Shuang still had a few loyalists, but even they were beginning to doubt him. His aggressive stance was losing favor, especially with the supplies growing thin.
Hui Jian remained silent, observing the interplay of power. Wei Shuang was a fool, but a dangerous one. His pride and recklessness made him a threat, one that needed to be neutralized. But not directly. Hui Jian had no intention of confronting him openly. No, he would let Wei Shuang destroy himself.
As the debate dragged on, Ren looked to Hui Jian once more. This time, it was a signal. Hui Jian stepped forward, his movements deliberate, commanding the attention of the room without uttering a word. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost soothing.
"Ren is right. We must be strategic," Hui Jian said. "We've seen what happens when we act without thinking. We lose lives. And with the beastmen closing in, we cannot afford to be reckless."
There was a quiet authority in his words, and the crowd seemed to lean toward him, their doubts momentarily silenced. Even Wei Shuang, for all his bluster, found himself without a retort.
"If we strike first," Hui Jian continued, "we can catch them off guard, just as we did before. But this time, we need to be even more precise. Every move must be calculated."
He glanced around the room, letting his words sink in. The tension was palpable, the uncertainty clear in their eyes. But there was something else there too—trust. Over time, Hui Jian had woven himself into the fabric of the camp's leadership, subtly guiding them, bending their will to his own.
"And what about supplies?" one of the council members asked hesitantly. "Our weapons are falling apart, and some of us haven't eaten properly in days."
Hui Jian's gaze flickered briefly toward Mei Lin, who stood quietly at the back of the room. "We've managed to secure more supplies from the surrounding area. It's not much, but it will be enough to hold out for now."
Mei Lin gave a subtle nod, confirming his lie. In truth, the supplies had been there all along—just not where they were needed. But no one would question it now.
Ren stepped forward again, seizing the moment. "Then it's settled. We'll prepare an ambush, just as before. We'll use the narrow pass to our advantage. Hui Jian and I will lead the charge."
The room murmured its approval, the decision made. Wei Shuang's face darkened, but he said nothing. He could feel his control slipping away, but there was little he could do. The camp was no longer his to command.
That night, as the camp settled into an uneasy silence, Hui Jian found himself standing at the edge once more, staring out into the dark wilderness. The wind howled, carrying with it the faint scent of blood and snow. The beastmen were close, but that was not what weighed on his mind.
He had won the battle within the camp, for now. But he knew better than anyone that power was fleeting. The men and women who followed him now could just as easily turn against him if he faltered, if he showed weakness.
That was why he couldn't afford to make mistakes. Every action had to be deliberate, every word carefully chosen. The ambush would succeed, of that he was certain. But it was the aftermath that concerned him most.
Would Wei Shuang make one final, desperate move? Or would he fade into irrelevance, broken by his own failures? Either way, Hui Jian had to be ready. There was no room for sentimentality, no room for mercy.
As he stood there, alone in the darkness, his thoughts drifted to the Legends of Ren Zu, the story of Boundless Forest Samsara. Ren Zu's fourth child had once been trapped in an endless cycle, caught between life and death, forever searching for a way to break free. It wasn't until he let go of his attachments, of his fear, that he found the strength to move forward.
Hui Jian knew that feeling well. He had long since let go of his fear. Now, all that remained was the cold, calculated drive to survive. He would do whatever it took, use anyone he needed to, in order to reach his goal.
The wind whispered through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, the low howl of a beastman echoed through the night. The storm was coming.
Hui Jian smiled.
As dawn approached, the camp stirred with quiet anticipation. The final preparations for the ambush were made in tense silence, each man and woman acutely aware of what was at stake. The beastmen were close—too close—and there was no turning back now.
Hui Jian moved through the camp like a shadow, checking on the preparations, ensuring everything was in place. Ren coordinated the fighters, his calm demeanor hiding the stress of command. In contrast, Wei Shuang's loyalists worked in grim silence, their morale shattered, their faith in their leader all but gone.
Mei Lin approached Hui Jian quietly, her voice barely a whisper. "It's done. They're too weak to put up a proper fight now."
Hui Jian nodded, satisfied. "Good. Make sure it stays that way."
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the camp fell into a final, uneasy silence. The beastmen would come soon, and with them, the culmination of everything Hui Jian had worked for.
The ambush would succeed. The camp would survive—for now. But Hui Jian knew better than to celebrate early. There was still much to be done, many pieces to move.
And when the time came, when all the pieces had fallen into place, Hui Jian would be ready to take what was his.