Chapter 7 – Echoes of the Unseen

  The night was deep, the moon veiled behind shifting clouds, casting the land in an eerie twilight. Shen Mu stood at the edge of the village, his gaze locked onto the distant road where Qiao Han and his enforcers had vanished hours ago. The confrontation had ended, but the ripples it left behind had yet to settle.

  Wei Jin sat nearby, his body weary but his mind restless. His conversation with Shen Mu earlier had left more questions than answers. He had glimpsed something beyond the rigid cultivation he had known all his life, but understanding still eluded him.

  “You said Ether isn’t the only path,” Wei Jin murmured, his voice quieter now, carrying the weight of exhaustion. “Then what is it that you see?”

  Shen Mu exhaled slowly, his fingers idly tracing the wooden hilt of his knife. “The world is layered,” he said, echoing his earlier words. “Most people only see the surface. Even cultivators—powerful as they may be—only refine themselves according to what they understand. But the truth is not so simple.”

  Wei Jin frowned. “And you can see… deeper?”

  Shen Mu didn’t answer immediately. The wind shifted, rustling the trees, and in that fleeting moment, he felt it—the faint tremor in the unseen Threads of Reality that surrounded them.

  “I listen,” he said finally. “And the world speaks.”

  Before Wei Jin could respond, a presence stirred at the edge of the clearing. The shift was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Shen Mu’s awareness latched onto it immediately. Someone was there.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  His gaze flickered to the treeline. “You’ve been watching for a while,” he said, his voice even. “Step forward.”

  Wei Jin tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon.

  A rustle of movement. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows—cloaked, steps measured. As they stepped into the moonlight, the hood fell back, revealing a woman with sharp features and piercing eyes. Silver embroidery lined the edges of her dark robe, faintly glimmering in the dim light.

  Wei Jin scowled. “Who—”

  The woman ignored him. Her gaze was locked onto Shen Mu.

  “You are not what you seem,” she said.

  Shen Mu raised an eyebrow. “Few are.”

  The woman exhaled, as if weighing her next words. “You disrupted a thread today. A minor one, but enough for those who know to notice.”

  Shen Mu’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly, he felt something click into place.

  She could see it.

  Not fully, perhaps. Not the way he did. But she knew.

  Wei Jin’s hand tightened around his weapon. “Who is she?”

  The woman finally turned to acknowledge him. “Li Mei.” She paused. “And if you value your lives, you need to leave this place. Now.”

  Wei Jin’s expression darkened. “Another hunter?”

  “No.” Li Mei’s eyes flickered back to Shen Mu. “Something far worse.”

  The wind carried her words into the night, and Shen Mu knew—the real game had just begun.