“Those idiots from the Ming Family are underestimating us,” Father said with a scowl.

It was early the morning after Wu Jian, Wu Meiying, and Hou Jingshu journeyed into the Twin Fang Mountains in search of something they could gift to Zhou Lihua for her birthday. They had all gone to bed last night exhausted. Not only had they been attacked on the way back home, but Wu Taohua made them kill their attackers.

Wu Jian had suffered from a nightmare and woken up in a cold sweat this morning. He knew, logically, that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Those people would have killed him if given the chance. They had tried very hard to kill him and the others, in fact. But deep within his heart, he still felt a sense of regret at the loss of life and his own innocence. More than that, he was worried about Wu Meiying and Hou Jingshu. Were they taking what happened as hard as him?

Wu Meiying had tried very hard to convince Wu Taohua to let her and Hou Jingshu sleep with him last night. She had kicked up a storm. Sadly, the older woman had firmly dismissed her desires. Then, as if to add salt to the wound, she ordered several extra guards to be stationed at his domicile for the night.

He really was worried about the two.

Of course, he probably should have worried more about himself. He had looked at himself in the mirror after being woken up. His skin was pale like it had been drained of blood. His eyes had the same black bags underneath them. Thick red lines like veins ran through his eyes, a sure sign of his lack of sleep and peace.

I knew I’d eventually kill someone, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. I didn’t think it would be so hard either. I still feel sick.

“They know we can’t attack them recklessly,” Wu Taohua said. “Now that the Ming and Juishi Families have allied with each other, their strength is nearly equal to ours.”

Wu Jian was currently sitting in Father’s reception room along with Mother, Father, and Wu Taohua. Father was sitting on a throne-like chair. Leaning back, arms crossed, expression stern, it was clear that his father was not happy about what happened the other day.

“That also wasn’t their only mercenary force, right?” asked Mother.

Wu Taohua shook her head. “It was not. The group that attacked us was just a small portion of the mercenaries Tian Hao hired.”

“Which means we can’t attack them unless we’re prepared to lose many of our clansmen,” Father grunted.

The situation they were in might not be dire, but it certainly wasn’t ideal. The Wu Clan might be the strongest in Zahn City. That didn’t mean, however, that they could just do whatever they wanted. The Ming and Juishi Families were both rather powerful. Their combined strength was close to the Wu Clan’s. What’s more, they now had an alchemist who had hired a large mercenary force. An attack on them right now was suicidal.

“How strong is the mercenary force? What are their numbers like?” asked Father.

“Not counting the five we killed the other day, I would say they’re about fifty strong,” Wu Taohua answered.

“Our own Wu Clan has about two hundred members. The Juishi and Ming Families both have around seventy members each, which means they currently have a force of about one-hundred and ninety.” Mother tapped her chin thoughtfully for several seconds. “Our numbers are about the same, but what about the individual strength of our members?”

“I’d say our strength is about…”

Wu Jian tried to pay attention as the adults continued speaking, but his vision suddenly blurred out and his head dipped. His grogginess had returned with vengeance. He shook his head once as if to clear it. It didn’t help.

“Jian, are you paying attention?” asked Father in a stern, demanding voice.

“I… I am.” Wu Jian wondered if it was just him, but his tone seemed rather dull.

Mother hurried over to his side and pressed a hand to his forehead. She drew her hand back with a hiss. He looked up to see her face, but everything was blurry, so he couldn’t see what kind of expression she was making.

“You’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell us you had a fever?” she demanded to know.

“Fever? I have… a fever?” Wu Jian asked. Perhaps it was because he was sitting on his haunches, but his body began swaying. He tilted forward. He probably would have hit the ground, but Mother caught him against her chest. Her body felt colder than normal.

“You have a very bad fever.” Mother groaned, then looked at Father and Wu Taohua. “I’ll need to examine him, but it’s very possible he has Sennetsu Fever.”

Wu Jian did not know what Sennetsu Fever was. Mother explained that it was a rare disease that only affected people before they broke through to the Hunger Realm, and only those with a high degree of potential caught it. What’s more, they only caught it when their bodies were placed under extreme pressure. According to her, the pressure caused a cultivator’s body to weaken and become susceptible to the disease.

It seemed like a very specific illness to him.

He didn’t remember much of what happened after that; everything around him looked as though it was in a haze, and he may have fallen asleep at one point. The world had gone black.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on his bed and something damp was pressed against his forehead. He blinked several times and tried to sit up, but his body felt far too weak. He was fatigued. Both his mind and his body. Everything ached.

“Jian! You’re finally awake!”

Wu Meiying’s face appeared above him, looking both worried and relieved.

“What’s… going on?” he asked. Even to him, his voice sounded throaty and weak.

“You have Sennetsu Fever,” Wu Meiying explained matter of factly. “Aunty made you some medicine and put you to bed. She said the only cure for Sennetsu Fever is to get a lot of rest and sweat it out.”

“I see…”

So he really was sick. That sucked. He couldn’t train like this.

“Are you okay?” asked another voice. He couldn’t lift his head, but he moved just his eyes down to discover that Wu Meiying wasn’t alone. Hou Jingshu was with her. The girl stared at him with worry clear in her eyes.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a sickness,” he tried to assure them both.

Wu Jian had never been sick in his entire life—to the best of his knowledge—but if this was what it felt like to be sick, he hoped he would never catch illness again. His entire body felt horribly weak. His muscles ached, his throat was sore, he felt both hot and cold, and he wanted to throw up.

Being sick is the worst.

“Anyway, just try to get some sleep.” Wu Meiying pressed a damp towel to his cheek. The coolness felt wonderful on his blistering hot skin. “Jingshu and I will be here to look after you. You need to rest.”

On any other occasion, he might have argued that he didn’t need rest, but this horrible feeling left him so lethargic that he couldn’t even summon the strength to argue. Well, given that this was Wu Meiying telling him to rest, he might not have been able to put up much of a fight anyway.

“Yeah… okay… thank… you…”

Wu Jian could hardly keep his eyes open. He was so weak. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and fell back into a pitched slumber.

***

Wu Meiying watched as Wu Jian fell asleep with tender eyes. Once he was completely out of it, she reached up and brushed a few sweaty bangs away from his face, which was so pale it was as if all the blood had been drained from it. She had never seen him quite like this before.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this vulnerable,” Wu Meiying mused to herself.

“What do you mean?” asked Hou Jingshu.

“We told you about how Jian was very weak and fragile when we were younger, right?” When Hou Jingshu nodded, Wu Meiying continued. “Ever since I told him that he would lose me if he wasn’t strong enough, he’s never let himself show weakness. Even when confronted with overwhelming opposition, he has done his best to remain strong.” A wry smile lit up her face. “I suppose it would make sense that the only thing that could make him look so vulnerable these days is a disease.”

Cultivators rarely got sick. While they technically weren’t true cultivators right now, their bodies, durable and strong, were not prone to sickness. This would probably, hopefully, be the last time Wu Jian ever got sick.

Hou Jingshu wore a complicated expression as Wu Meiying spoke. She had come into their lives after Wu Jian had resolved himself to be strong, which meant she had never seen his vulnerable side.

Wu Meiying wondered if she was jealous.

“Well, we told Aunty we’d look after Jian. I suppose that means we’re about to begin our wifely duties a few years early,” Wu Meiying joked with a giggle.

“W-wifely duties?!” Hou Jingshu stuttered.

“Of course. Isn’t it a wife’s duty to care for her husband when he is sick?” Wu Meiying stood up from the bed and looked around, ignoring the embarrassment Hou Jingshu was displaying. “Anyway, I suppose the first thing we should do is clean this room and air it out. I think a bit of fresh air will help him feel better.”

Hou Jingshu eyed her with something resembling wariness. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

“Of course. It’s a rare opportunity, after all.” Wu Meiying beamed.

Because Wu Jian was trying so hard to become strong, Wu Meiying was given fewer chances to take care of him. She was glad he was trying so hard for her sake. She was happy he had gotten stronger. But she was also kind of sad.

Wu Jian used to always rely on her for everything, and she had liked that. She liked that he would come to her when he needed help. A part of her thought those days would never return, so now that such an opportunity had come along, she was not going to let it go to waste.

Hou Jingshu sighed. “A rare opportunity, she says.”

Despite her words, Hou Jingshu helped out by tidying up Wu Jian’s room. It wasn’t what she would have called messy. That said, there were a few nicknacks and some training equipment lying around that could be put away. Wu Jian used them so often that he normally just left them out, but that created unnecessary clutter in Wu Meiying’s opinion.

While Hou Jingshu was folding up some ropes Wu Jian used for calisthenic training, Wu Meiying opened the window, allowing warm sunlight to filter in.

A refreshing breeze blew in through the window. Wu Meiying took a moment to enjoy it.

While she was doing this to help Wu Jian, she was also doing this for herself. Last night had shaken her. Killing someone for the first time had given her worse nightmares than usual.

She could still remember the nightmare she’d had, in which all of the people she loved had been killed by people in black clothes and demonic masks.

The nightmare had been so bad that she’d woken up in tears. That was why she had wanted to sleep with Wu Jian last night. If he was by her side, the nightmares wouldn’t have appeared.

Blasted Taohua. All the respect I might have had for her is gone. How dare she stand in the way of my Jian-time.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Wu Jian’s body struck by hundreds of poisoned blades.

A shudder ran through her.

“Are you okay?” asked Hou Jingshu.

“I’m fine. I’m going to ask the servants where the cleaning equipment is,” she said after a moment.

“Okay. I’ll stay here,” Hou Jingshu replied with an airy wave of her hand.

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