Young Master Feng Hao's office occupied the third floor of the Alchemist Guild Tower, a structure of five levels that dominated the commercial district of Golden Carp City. The walls were lined with shelves containing jars of rare ingredients, scrolls of ancestral formulas, and leather bound books documenting centuries of alchemical knowledge.
Feng Hao sat behind a desk of polished cherry wood, holding a delicate porcelain cup between his fingers. He was twenty four years old and had an angular face of conventional attractiveness. His black hair was slicked back with scented oil, leaving every strand in its exact place. His dark eyes, which evaluated everything with calculating intensity, now watched the surface of the green tea steaming softly.
Composure was his armor. He had learned from a young age that uncontrolled emotion was a weakness and impulsivity was the path to ruin. While other young masters from powerful families squandered fortunes on wine, women, and stupid bets, he had cultivated a reputation for cold and brutal pragmatism.
Tock, tock.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
Counselor Zhao entered with a tense expression. He was a middle aged man with graying temples, a carefully trimmed beard, and the upright posture of a powerful cultivator. He wore the dark green robes of the guild with gold embroidery marking his position as a senior counselor.
"Young Master," Zhao said as he closed the door behind him. "The scouts have returned."
Feng Hao took a sip of his tea without taking his eyes off Zhao.
"And?"
"Nothing. They checked the escape routes from the city, the black markets, and even bribed informants in the lower districts," Zhao sighed deeply. "There is no trace of the fugitive. Two years have passed and it is as if she evaporated."
Crack.
The porcelain cup shattered in Feng Hao's hand. Ceramic fragments fell onto the desk. Green tea spilled over the production reports, and drops of crimson blood mixed with the liquid, tinting the puddle a pinkish hue.
Feng Hao looked at his hand. A deep cut ran across his palm. Blood flowed freely, dripping onto the polished wood.
Mortal blood. No qi to stop the bleeding. No spiritual energy to accelerate the healing. Just ordinary flesh that would bleed until the wound clotted on its own, like any peasant in the rice fields. The humiliation burned more than the injury.
He took a silk handkerchief from the top drawer and wrapped his hand with precise movements. The white cloth stained red almost immediately. He pressed harder, forcing his expression back to a state of calm.
"There is more," Zhao continued with a cautious voice. "The Council of Elders held a meeting this morning. They are... impatient with the search."
"Impatient?"
"Two years have passed, Young Master. Two years of diverted resources. Scouts who could be mapping new trade routes; funds that could be invested in expanding guild operations." Zhao moved toward the window. "Important elders are asking questions. The families who lost members in the expedition to the Black Wind Ruins are questioning why we pursue a minor thief with such intensity."
"Minor?" Feng Hao let out a dry laugh. "She stole ingredients valued at twenty thousand gold pieces."
"That is what the official reports say. What was planted in her house." Zhao looked at him directly. "Young Master, I know the real inventory records. I know the difference between genuine theft losses and numbers adjusted to justify a hunt."
Feng Hao finished bandaging his hand. The handkerchief was soaked, creating a makeshift dressing that looked clumsier than he would like to admit.
"The elders want to end the search," Zhao stated finally. "They are willing to give you three more months. After that, they will declare the case closed and reassign the resources."
"Three months are not enough."
"Young Master, with all respect, two years were not enough either. Perhaps it is time to..."
"Tell me, Zhao," Feng Hao interrupted him abruptly. "Do you think I am attractive?"
Zhao blinked, bewildered.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It is a simple question. Am I attractive?"
The counselor processed the strange question, clearly thrown off by the change of subject.
"In terms of position and appearance, Young Master, you have no equal in this city. You are the son of the most powerful Guild Master of three provinces. You have features that noble families would consider very desirable, a superior education in the alchemical arts, and considerable wealth."
"Exactly." Feng Hao leaned back in his chair. "I think the same. I could have any woman just by mentioning my status. Daughters of rich merchants, ladies of minor cultivation clans... even some from important families if I played my cards right."
There was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," Feng Hao said without taking his eyes off Zhao.
A young maid entered carrying a tray with a new cup of tea. Her eyes went wide upon seeing the blood and the porcelain fragments.
"Young Master, let me clean..."
"Just leave the tea," his voice was sharp. "And leave."
The maid placed the cup with trembling hands and hurried out. Feng Hao took the new cup and took a slow sip while watching Zhao over the rim of the porcelain.
"So," he continued, as if there had been no interruption, "if I can have any woman I want, why did Xiu Mei not fall for my charm? I was chivalrous. Respectful. I offered her access to the best ingredients in the guild. I invited her out properly and wrote letters expressing genuine interest in her work."
"Young Master, Miss Xiu Mei valued alchemy above all things. She simply was not interested in seeking a partner."
"Or is it because I am a cripple?" Feng Hao asked with a dangerous calm. "Because she knows that, under the expensive robes and the pompous title, I am nothing more than an ordinary mortal?"
"That is unlikely," Zhao responded carefully. "Knowledge is worth more than brute force in our profession."
"Pretty words." Feng Hao set the cup down. "We both know they are a lie. In this world, cultivation power is everything. Without it, you are just cattle waiting for the slaughter."
Zhao sighed softly.
"Young Master, is this the reason for everything? The diversion of resources, the years of searching? Just because she rejected you? I thought you were more mature than..."
"Do you really think I am that petty?" he cut him off coldly. "That I would mobilize the guild just for a personal affront where a bitch..." He corrected himself with a mocking smile. "Pardon me, where a kitsune rejected me?"
Zhao did not respond. His eyes drifted to Feng Hao's bandaged hand, fearing he might break the cup again. The young master let out a short laugh.
"Calm yourself, counselor. I still have some self control. As you know, the trip to the Black Wind Ruins took everything from me when those cowards from other guilds ambushed us. After being crippled and practically humiliated, I asked myself: is there a way to recover what I lost?"
"Young Master, you know that meridians and spiritual veins cannot be repaired," Zhao spoke with pragmatism. "If you are pursuing the kitsune for that, I must tell you that you are chasing impossible fantasies."
"That is what I thought too."
Feng Hao looked at him with smugness. The meaning behind his words hung in the air between them. Zhao processed the implication slowly, his expression changing from confusion to incredulity.
"Young Master, this is ridiculous. There is no such miracle cure. And if it existed, it would be..."
"Extremely difficult to create?" Feng Hao finished the sentence for him. He stood up and walked toward a locked cabinet in the corner. "Tell me, Zhao. What is the most precious treasure of this guild?"
"The Crimson Phoenix Compendium, of course." Zhao watched as Feng Hao took a small key from a chain around his neck. "Since you acquired it at the auction, there is not a day that goes by that you do not spend reading it."
"Correct." He opened the cabinet and removed the ancient volume with reverence. The strange runes on the leather cover glowed faintly under the afternoon light. "What if I told you this book has the answers to my problems? What if I told you the book has the key for me to cultivate again?"
He placed the book on the desk, pushing the blood stained reports aside.
"Think about it, Zhao. This is a complete mystery that has consumed my curiosity. Despite being only a fragment of the original complete book, it is as if someone separated the book into multiple fragments and abandoned them in places like this forgotten town, waiting for those fragments to never be joined again."
"I had not considered it that way," Zhao admitted.
"A book of this value would only be in the hands of the most powerful sects. And yet it is here, in my hands. But I am wasting time; I cannot search for the rest of the fragments with my useless and stupid cultivation destroyed. But if that were fixed..." His eyes shone with cold ambition. "Our alchemist guild would have no rival."
Zhao approached, looking at the ancient runes on the page.
"My father is a man who appreciates honesty and virtue as the path of cultivation," Feng Hao continued. "He believes in traditional methods and merit. But virtue is not everything, is it, Zhao?"
"What do you mean, Young Master?"
Feng Hao traced the lines of text with a finger.
"The main ingredient to create the Meridian Rebirth Pill is one that would scandalize my father." He paused, letting the tension build. "Virgin blood of a lust demon. Collected during her first time."
Silence stretched between them.
"While it is true that lust demons only exist on the Demonic Continent," Feng Hao continued, "that does not exempt one of their bloodline cousins." He looked up to stare at Zhao directly. "The kitsune."
Zhao remained silent for a long moment.
"Young Master, with all respect, Miss Xiu Mei is now a thief wanted by multiple clans. Her reputation is destroyed. Besides, she wants nothing to do with you."
"Counselor Zhao." Feng Hao closed the book with a sharp thud. "It is true that bitch has a lewd body. It is true she has rejected my advances. It is true she is too slippery for her own good." He smiled. "But she is not a thief."
Zhao blinked.
"Young Master? What are you talking about?"
"I am talking about the fact that she never stole those cultivation resources. She never stole the ingredients. It was all a strategy to earmark the guild's resources for her search." Feng Hao returned to his chair, leaning back with a satisfied expression. "I planted the evidence personally. I adjusted the inventory records. I bribed witnesses to confirm the theft. I turned the whole city against her so she would have nowhere to run except into my arms."
Zhao's expression remained carefully neutral.
"What I did not anticipate," Feng Hao continued with frustration leaking into his voice, "was that my father would leave me in charge of the guild shortly after I created the farce. That he would go into seclusion to break his own cultivation bottleneck just when I most needed him to be distracted. Now I have to deal with elders asking uncomfortable questions. With families demanding justice. With scouts who want to know why we pursue a minor thief with such intensity."
He paused, taking a sip of his tea.
"If I had known the guild would pass into my hands so soon, I would not have planned that woman's fall yet. I would have waited until my father was in seclusion to execute the plan. Fewer eyes watching. Fewer questions to answer."
Zhao processed this information in silence. His posture was rigid, but there was no shock in his expression. After decades serving the Feng family, he had seen enough to understand that guild survival required methods that rarely appeared in official codes of honor. What made him feel slightly uneasy was not the manipulation. It was what his young master planned to do once he captured Xiu Mei.
"Young Master," he said finally with a cautious voice. "Are you aware that what you are describing is..."
"Rape?" Feng Hao finished the sentence without blinking. "Of course I know. I am not an idiot, Zhao. I know exactly what I plan to do."
"And that does not bother you?"
"Why should it?" Feng Hao asked with genuine curiosity. "I need her blood to create the pill that will restore my cultivation. She will not give it to me voluntarily. Therefore, I will take it without her consent. It is simple transactional logic."
"Young Master, there is a difference between a transaction and..."
"The result is the same." Feng Hao cut him off coldly. "I get what I need. She suffers temporarily. Eventually she recovers and continues with her life. Perhaps I will offer her monetary compensation afterward to ease my conscience. Perhaps not. It depends on how cooperative she is during the process."
He took another sip of his tea, completely calm.
"My father cannot find out about this," he continued. "If he knows it was all a farce, he will stop the search for Xiu Mei immediately. His stupid sense of honor would not tolerate this kind of manipulation. So I need you to convince the Council of Elders. Give them enough reasons to prolong this search for one more year."
"A year is a long time to maintain a lie, Young Master."
"Just give me a year and I will find that girl." Feng Hao leaned forward, his expression intensifying. "Once you do and I have recovered my cultivation, we will make this guild incomparable among its peers. We will search for the other fragments of the Compendium. We will expand our operations to neighboring provinces. We will build an alchemical empire that will make the main sects respect us."
Zhao considered this. Ambition was tempting. The promise of power was seductive.
"About that, Young Master," he said finally. "Our scouts have been close to catching her on a few occasions. However, we suspect that Miss Xiu Mei has powers of the spatial type."
Crack.
Feng Hao had picked up the teacup. Now it lay shattered in his hand again. More porcelain fragments.
"Spatial element?" His voice was dangerously low.
"The illusions she uses are too sophisticated to be just standard kitsune fire techniques. She disappears without a trace. She creates distortions that confuse experienced cultivators." Zhao watched as Feng Hao wrapped his hand with another handkerchief. "Combined with her natural alchemical talent and her survival instincts, she will be extremely difficult to catch."
Feng Hao looked at his bandaged hands. Both were now stained with blood. Both were reminders of his weakness.
"That slippery vixen," he muttered. "Expert in illusions and spatial element. Of course it would not be easy."
He leaned back in his chair, forcing his composure back to his expression.
"There is no reason to worry," he said finally. "Everything will fall in due time. The spatial element makes her hard to catch, not impossible. We just need to be smarter about our approach."
"What do you suggest, Young Master?"
"Increase surveillance in the Lower District. Subtly. I do not want to scare her deeper into the shadows." Feng Hao tapped his fingers on the desk. "Offer higher rewards for information leading to her capture. Spread the rumor that we are willing to forgive her crime if she surrenders voluntarily."
"And if she actually surrenders?"
"She won't. She is too smart to fall for that. But the rumor will make others lower their guard. It will make them think we are more benevolent than we actually are." He smiled without humor. "And when we finally find her, when our scouts finally catch her..."
He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.
"Remember the orders, Zhao. They must bring her back alive. No one must touch a single strand of hair on her head. I want her pure, exactly as she was when she left here." His eyes darkened. "Because when I finally have her in my hands, when I can finally take what I need from her, I want her to be perfect. I want her to be conscious of every moment. I want her to remember exactly who ruined her."
Zhao nodded slowly.
"Understood, Young Master."
"Good." Feng Hao stood up, walking toward the window. The city spread out below, thousands of lives unfolding without knowledge of the machinations happening in this tower. "Talk to the elders. Convince them that we need one more year. Use any argument that works. Guild prestige. Justice. The message it would send to let a thief escape without punishment."
"And if they ask for evidence of progress?"
"Invent something. Reports of sightings. Informants who claim to have seen someone matching her description. Whatever is necessary to keep them satisfied." Feng Hao did not turn around. "You have served my family for decades, Zhao. I trust that you can handle guild internal politics."
"I will do what I can, Young Master."
Zhao headed for the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob.
"Young Master, one last question if I may."
"Ask."
"What will you do with her after... after taking what you need?"
Feng Hao finally turned to look at him. His expression was completely neutral.
"Honestly, Zhao, I have not thought that far ahead. Perhaps I will let her go. Perhaps I will offer her a position in the guild to keep her quiet. Perhaps I will kill her to eliminate the risk of her speaking." He shrugged. "It will depend on how useful she is after the fact."
"I understand."
"Anything else?"
"No, Young Master. That is all."
Zhao left, closing the door softly behind him.
Feng Hao remained alone in his office. His eyes drifted toward the Crimson Phoenix Compendium resting on the desk, then toward his bandaged hands that throbbed with a dull pain.
Mortal pain.
Two years chasing a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.
But it would be worth it.
When he finally had her.
It would be worth every drop of blood.
And if Xiu Mei suffered in the process...
Well.
That was simply the price she would have to pay for being exactly what he needed.
******
While everyone else is still waiting — Chapter 39 is already live on Patreon.
Over 3,000 words per chapter, cover art with every release, and no sitting on finished content just to hit a schedule date. When it's ready, it's up. Simple as that.
Don't wait for it to show up elsewhere. patreon.com/shurazero