Kai turned the gold bar over in his palm, his fingers tracing its smooth surface. The metal felt cold to the touch, just as real gold should—but something was off.

  A memory surfaced from his time in that otherworldly dream—gold was dense, heavy enough that even small amounts carried noticeable weight. This bar, though convincing to the eye, was far too light. He squeezed it experimentally, and to his shock, the metal gave slightly beneath his fingers, as if made of brittle clay rather than precious ore.

  Then he sensed it—a whisper of qi clinging to the bar, faint but unmistakable. A particular energy signature he knew all too well.

  His breath caught.

  Without hesitation, Kai shoved the bar back into the bag and snapped it shut. Closing his eyes, he focused his spiritual senses, trying to pick up anymore of that familiar qi until—

  There.

  A wisp of that same illusory energy, flickering near the ground like a half-seen shadow.

  Yinying let out a soft, inquisitive chirp from his shoulder, but Kai ignored the fox, his attention locked onto the trail. He lunged forward, his hand shooting out toward what appeared to be empty air—

  —and seized something.

  A startled poof of purple smoke erupted as Kai yanked his arm back, revealing a very disgruntled illusion cat dangling from his grip by the scruff of her neck. Zi’s fur puffed up in indignation, her golden eyes wide with offended dignity.

  "Mrrph! Hrssk!" she protested, twisting in his grasp, her tail lashing.

  "I knew it!" Kai hissed, shaking her slightly. "This is your doing! Fake gold? Really?"

  Zi froze mid-struggle. Then, with the practiced grace of a creature well-versed in escaping consequences, her entire demeanor shifted. Her ears flattened adorably, her pupils dilated to round, innocent pools, and she let out the most pitiful, heart-melting "Meeew?" she could muster, her tiny paws curling defensively under her chin.

  Kai was unmoved.

  "Don’t even try that," he growled. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What were you thinking?"

  Zi’s ears twitched. She glanced at the bag, then back at Kai, her expression shifting to something almost... smug.

  And then it hit him.

  The trader.

  Kai’s grip on Zi loosened slightly as realization dawned. "Wait… were you actually trying to help me?"

  The illusion cat blinked up at him with wide, guileless eyes, then nodded emphatically, her tail curling in a self-satisfied loop.

  Kai exhaled, torn between exasperation and reluctant gratitude. Zi’s abilities were formidable—with a thought, she could cloak objects in layers of illusion, making the mundane appear priceless, or the ordinary seem extraordinary. The "gold bars" in his bag were nothing more than his own bundled leathers, draped in her power. To an unsuspecting merchant, the deception would have been flawless.

  And devastating.

  If Kai had been less scrupulous, he could have traded the illusory gold for real supplies, leaving the trader none the wiser—until, hours later, the illusion dissolved, and the "fortune" reverted to simple hides. By then, Kai would be long gone, and the poor fur-seller would be left questioning his own sanity, wondering if he’d misplaced the gold among his own wares.

  "I appreciate the thought," Kai said, rubbing his temple. "But I’m not about to scam some poor hunter out of his livelihood. The last thing I need is to make enemies."

  Zi’s ears drooped slightly, but before she could protest, Kai fixed her with a stern look. "Now, the real question is—why are you here?"

  "Meow! Meow!" Zi insisted, pointing a tiny paw at Kai’s shoulder.

  A heartbeat later, the air shimmered, and Yinying materialized in a swirl of shadowy mist. The three-tailed fox leapt gracefully to the ground, her vulpine features stretched into a smug, toothy grin as she regarded Zi’s predicament.

  "Nyaaa—haaa!" Zi yowled, her fur puffing up in outrage at Yinying’s obvious amusement.

  Kai groaned. "Don’t rub it in, Yinying. And Zi—are you seriously telling me you didn’t trust Yinying to keep me safe?"

  "Meow. Meow," Zi huffed, crossing her paws defensively.

  "I see. You should really have more trust in your sisters." Kai muttered, though his expression darkened as a far more alarming thought struck him. "Oh no. Please tell me Soma didn’t sneak in here with you."

  Kai's fingers instinctively tightened around Zi's scruff as the implications hit him. If one of the Trio had slipped into Biragawa unseen, what were the odds the other hadn't followed? His gaze darted around the alleyway, half-expecting to see the air shimmer with another invisible presence.

  The "Troublesome Trio"—Zi the illusionist, Yinying the shadow-walker, and Soma the dream-weaver. All three spirit beasts shared an uncanny ability to vanish from sight, each in their own distinctive way. Where Zi cloaked reality in layers of deception and Yinying melted into darkness itself, Soma...

  Kai suppressed a shudder.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Soma played with memory and perception. She simply ceased to be noticed.

  No puff of smoke, no ripple of qi—one moment she wasn't there, the next moment she was, as if the world had collectively decided to stop acknowledging her existence. And of the three, her abilities made the rabbit by far the most... troublesome.

  Zi’s whiskers twitched as she considered Kai’s question, her golden eyes narrowing in thought. After a deliberate pause, she shook her head firmly as if to say—”no, Soma had not followed.”

  Kai exhaled, but his relief was cautious. He knew how Soma’s abilities worked—once you were aware of her presence, her power to evade notice weakened significantly. It wasn’t true invisibility, not like Yinying’s shadow-melting or Zi’s illusions. Soma simply… slid out of perception, making eyes skip over her like a stone across water. But if you knew to look, if you focused hard enough, you could see her.

  And right now, the alley was empty.

  Kai scanned every shadow, every crate, every gap between buildings. Nothing. No telltale shimmer, no displaced dust, no faint pressure of unseen paws on the ground. If Soma had been here, he would have spotted her by now.

  His shoulders relaxed slightly. Thank the heavens. The last thing he needed was the most unpredictable member of the Trio loose in Biragawa. Where Zi was mischievous and Yinying aloof, Soma was pure, unfiltered chaos. Her idea of "helping" usually involved putting people to sleep.

  Kai exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if he could physically push away the lingering frustration. "Zi," he said, setting the illusion cat down on the cobblestones, "undo the illusions on my leathers. I’m doing this the honest way. A handful of supplies isn’t worth the trouble fake gold would bring."

  Zi flicked her ears in protest but complied with a reluctant "Meow." Her tail swished, and a ripple of qi pulsed through the air. When Kai checked his bag again, the gleaming bars had vanished, replaced by the familiar, well-cured hides he’d prepared himself.

  "Good," Kai muttered, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "Now, both of you—follow me and stay out of trouble."

  Yinying vanished first, dissolving into the shadows like ink in water. Zi lingered a moment longer, her golden eyes glinting with mischief, before she too faded from sight—not with a poof of smoke, but with a slow, deliberate blurring at the edges, as if reality itself had simply decided to stop acknowledging her.

  Kai sighed. At least they’re listening.

  The fur trader was still at his stall, now sorting through a fresh pile of fox pelts. He glanced up as Kai approached, his scarred brow lifting in recognition.

  The trader inspected the hides Kai gave him with a critical eye, fingers testing their suppleness. After a moment, he gave Kai the local currency for the leathers. The trader wasn't kidding about not giving him a good price, but Kai didn’t care.

  He wasn’t worried about replenishing his stock. Between the beastkin’s constant hunting and his own skill at tanning, he’d have more hides within a week. For now, this meager sum would have to be enough.

  With his meager earnings, Kai moved through the market, picking through the sparse offerings.

  At the blacksmith’s stall, he traded half his money for a set of sturdy metal needles and a small whetstone—mundane tools, but invaluable on the road. The smith, a burly woman with soot-streaked arms, eyed his sword but said nothing.

  Next, he sought out a grizzled farmer selling seeds from a worn satchel. The man’s hands were cracked from years in the cold, but his voice was warm as he explained his wares.

  "Snow carrots," he said, tapping a pouch of tiny, pale seeds. "Sweet as summer, even in frost. And these—" He held up a knobby tuber. "Snow potatoes. Hardy little things. Plant ‘em shallow, and they’ll feed you through the worst blizzards."

  Kai nodded, already planning to use these to start a farm when he finds a place to finally settle. But it was the last item that caught his attention—a small bundle of seeds nestled in blue cloth.

  "And these?"

  The farmer grinned. "Snow drops. Closest thing we’ve got to tomatoes up here, ‘cept they’re blue and twice as tart. Good for stews, better for trade."

  Kai bartered for a handful of each, tucking them carefully into his pack.

  By the time Kai finished, the sun hung low over Biragawa’s walls, painting the horizon in shades of amber and rose. The market was emptying, vendors packing up their stalls as the evening chill set in.

  He adjusted his pack, feeling the familiar weight of Yinying perched invisibly on his shoulder. Zi’s presence was harder to pinpoint, but he trusted she was nearby—and, hopefully, not causing trouble.

  As he trudged back toward the Snow Hare Inn, Kai allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. It hadn’t been a profitable day, but it had been honest. And in a world where so much was uncertain, that counted for something.

  Kai pushed open the creaking door of the Snow Hare Inn, the warmth of the hearth washing over him as he stepped inside. The common room was empty save for Mei, who was wiping down the wooden tables with brisk efficiency, preparing for the evening crowd. The scent of simmering stew and fresh-baked bread hung in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of pine resin from the freshly scrubbed floors.

  Mei glanced up as he entered, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "Well, well. If it isn’t Mister Big Cultivator himself," she said, her tone teasing.

  Kai froze, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around the strap of his pack. How? Had someone recognized him? Had Zi or Yinying slipped up? His mind raced through possibilities—until Mei giggled, waving a dismissive hand.

  "Oh, relax! I’m just teasing you," she said, shaking her head. "Your little nephew has been singing your praises all afternoon. 'My uncle Kai is the greatest cultivator!' 'He’s going to teach me how to move mountains!'" She mimicked Lu Bu’s eager voice with amusement. "It’s adorable, really. Kids and their imaginations."

  Kai forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in what he hoped looked like bashful embarrassment. "Ah, right. Yeah. I, uh… taught him some exercises. Kid’s convinced they’re 'cultivation techniques.'" He rolled his eyes, playing the part of a fond but exasperated uncle. "You know how children are."

  Mei laughed, tossing her rag over her shoulder. "Oh, I do. My little brother used to pretend he was a wandering swordsman. Drove my parents mad, swinging sticks around the house." She leaned against the table, her expression softening. "But it’s sweet, really. He clearly idolizes you."

  Kai nodded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Yeah. Sweet."

  Inside, his thoughts were far less charitable.

  That’s twice now Lu Bu’s blabbed about us being cultivators. First to Chen Gong, now to the innkeeper. Does he have any sense of self-preservation?

  "Anyway," Mei said, straightening up, "your other friend is upstairs, sleeping I think. And, Lu Bu is out back practicing those exercises you were talking about." She shook her head. "You’ve got your hands full, don’t you?"

  Kai exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "You have no idea."

  As he climbed the stairs, his earlier relief at an honest day’s trade evaporated. Tonight, he’d have to sit Lu Bu down and drill into him the importance of secrecy. And if words failed… well, maybe making him perform Iron Bull Stance a thousand times would hammer the lesson home.

  Kai pushed open the door to their room, already preparing to rouse Gin from what he assumed would be a drunken slumber—only to freeze mid-step, his hand still on the doorframe.

  The scene before him was... not what he had anticipated.

  Gin lay sprawled across his bed, thoroughly restrained by an intricate network of leather straps that crisscrossed his torso, arms, and legs, pinning him firmly to the mattress. His face was flushed, his usual expression replaced by an expression of dazed bewilderment. And standing over him, one knee planted on the edge of the bed, was a woman Kai had never seen before—dressed in scandalous clothing that left little to the imagination, her dark hair tumbling over one shoulder as she grinned down at her captive with undisguised delight.

  As Kai had opened the door both Gin and the woman had turned their heads to stare at Kai.

  For a long moment, the room was utterly silent.

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