Beware Of Chicken-Novel

“The Mo family, hmm?” the Head Inquisitor asked as he read over Yun Ren’s report. “You do not set your eyes upon the meek, Disciple Biren.”

“Yes. It is a difficult thing, but this disciple would think during these trying times an honest captain would be better than one trying to save his own hide,” Yun Ren replied, trying to put it in language that would appeal to the old bastard.

“Indeed, indeed.” The Head Inquisitor leaned back in his chair, considering Yun Ren’s words, and as he did half of his veiled face fell into shadow.

Yun Ren was starting to get used to the dark corners the Inquisitors operated in. He wasn’t as nervous now, seeing as they still hadn’t tried to kill him, but he was doing his best to stay alert—complacency lost a hunter his meal, if not his life.

Judging by how his mind kept wandering back to the prior night, he was in serious danger of going hungry.

There had been a certainty to his voice that had reminded Yun Ren of Xiulan when she had sworn her life to Jin and Meimei.

So while Ri Zu had patched the man back up—while whispering vicious and dire threats into his ear the whole time should he rip the wound open again—they had brainstormed what they could do. From a rotating guard when Ri Zu couldn’t be there, to how they could actually stop any attacks or retaliation…

And to Yun Ren’s disappointment, their best bet was the Inquisitors, not that he could tell Han and Yushang that.

Working as a member of the Inquisition and studying their history had been a boring and frustrating task. Plus, Yun Ren had been ready to write the entire organization off after he had learned what had happened to Han’s family.

Given their history and how blatant the attack had been, well, maybe the Mo family wasn’t an insurmountable obstacle.

So Yun Ren gathered the evidence they had, which included a journal that Shao Heng had kept every time disciplinary action was blocked for Mo Chaoge. The man had seemed embarrassed by it, calling it petty venting, but Yun Ren called it the jackpot.

The old man hummed and hawed, and then he nodded.

“This is well-reasoned. Mo Chaoge is low ranked in the family and I suppose reminding them that the Patriarch’s favour is not unconditional would be beneficial.”

Yun Ren hoped he hadn’t just fucked Shao Heng by doing this. But… he knew the guy would have gone for it either way. Probably saying something about duty all the while.

Later that day, Yun Ren found himself doing his usual thing—wandering around the offices, archives, and lairs of the Inquisitors, looking for hidden secrets while trying to make it look like he wasn’t wandering around the offices, archives, and lairs of those same Inquisitors looking for hidden secrets.

It seemed to be working at least, because he didn’t really have minders anymore. In fact, Yun Ren had been praised for not letting Han know anything about his family’s past. It still grated at Yun Ren having to keep it a secret from a friend.

He frowned, the darkness suddenly seeming so much more oppressive. A soft breeze blew through the passage, cold and dank. It tingled up Yun Ren’s spine.

The mist moved into the passage, like the beast was taking in a breath—

Something rattled at his waist.

Yun Ren jumped so high he hit his head on the ceiling.

“Bastard of three fathers! What the hells was that for, Summer?!” he hissed back as he staggered to his feet.

Yun Ren raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is that why it looks so messed up?”

All of a sudden, with a starburst behind Yun Ren’s eyes, he was somewhere else—the trailing fractals of what Summer’s Sky “saw” filled his vision.

The image of the fallen rocks settled and faded back to reality.

Yun Ren shook his head, trying to ward away the sudden headache.

“A bit of warning next time?”

Yun Ren eyed the passage. It looked like shit… but he supposed he would have to trust the repairs. So he started down it.

Ten minutes later, Yun Ren was still walking. The stone walls of the hallway were melted, and the mist thickened until he could barely see past his knees. The hallway went upwards, and eventually exited out into the sect proper. He poked his head out of the alley, only to find himself in a small courtyard. An enormous, ancient tree stood in the middle of it, its branches waving in the breeze.

For this part of the mountain, there was barely any fox-mist. A little bit swirled here and there, but otherwise the sun shone brightly.

“…got any ideas, Summer?” he whispered to the sword.

Yun Ren sighed. “Well, this was a bit of a waste—” he began before something caught his eye.

It flickered at the edge of his perception. It could have just been the sun for a brief moment between the leaves of a tree as the wind blew… but he recognized it.

Yun Ren’s eyes widened. He looked around carefully, but there was nobody here. He brought out his recording crystal, and with a chime he recorded.

There was a small blurry patch on one of the decorative walls.

Yun Ren approached it and placed his hand against the illusion. It was strange. It was incredibly inexpert and it should have faded so long ago—but the mist of the mountain had connected with it and kept it going all this time.

His hand pressed against the false stone. His Qi of light mixed with the Qi of lightning and something prickled in his spine—something as vast as the entire mountain looking at him—but the feeling faded as fast as it came. In its wake the illusion cracked, then disappeared.

Sitting in a spot where a brick was supposed to lay was a dusty storage ring.

And then the woman smiled. The wind blew and she dispersed into mist, from her long golden hair to her nine tails.