Chapter 3: The Academy's Shadow - Part 2
Day 5. My essence finally hits full recovery—100% capacity, or what passes for full with my damaged meridians.
The blood-stained claw fragment sits in my storage box, wrapped in cloth. Physical proof that my clone died. I haven't touched it since retrieving it from the forest's edge two nights ago. Don't need to. The memory of teeth tearing through my throat is proof enough.
"Clone deployment cooldown: Expired. Host essence reserves: Optimal for secondary deployment. Recommendation: Proceed with altered strategy based on previous failure. Suggested improvements: Extended range deployment, appearance modification, reduced risk profile."
I lock the dormitory door and sit cross-legged on my mat. The technique comes easier this time—muscle memory from doing it once before. My essence drains in a familiar rush, but I'm ready for it. The world splits in two.
The clone materializes. Same blank eyes, same mechanical movements. But this time I prepared instructions in advance.
"New identity: traveling merchant. Destination: Jade Moon Town, fifty li north. Alter appearance before departure—darker hair, sharper features, different posture. Establish merchant cover, secure lodging, gather regional intelligence. Priority targets: Bai Clan activity, resource availability, political tensions. Duration: Indefinite until recall. Communication: Passive awareness only, full memory transfer upon dispersion."
The clone nods. I watch it change—not a physical transformation, just subtle shifts. Hair darkens slightly, shoulders hunch forward, face settles into a merchant's practiced neutrality. Good enough to avoid immediate recognition.
It leaves through the window. I feel the connection stretch as distance increases, becoming a faint background hum in my skull.
"Essence expenditure: 60%. Recovery time: Six hours. Clone viability: Estimated 82% given reduced risk parameters."
Six hours of weakness. I can work with that.
The academy library is empty before noon. Most students waste their free time on gossip or gambling. I claim a table in the restricted section—texts on advanced Gu theory that most students can't comprehend yet.
The book I selected has a deliberate flaw. Page forty-seven discusses Moonlight Gu refinement techniques, but the formation diagram is wrong. Subtle mistake. The kind only someone with genuine expertise would catch.
Footsteps. Light, measured. I don't look up.
"Interesting choice." Fang Yuan's voice carries no inflection. "Most students your rank avoid advanced theory."
I let the book slip from my fingers. It hits the floor, falls open to page forty-seven.
Fang Yuan picks it up. His eyes scan the page. One second. Two.
There. The microsecond pause. Pupils focusing on the error.
"Interesting choice of reading material," he says, returning the book. His face shows nothing.
"I prefer comprehensive foundations to flashy shortcuts." I take the book back, careful not to touch his hand.
We hold eye contact. Three seconds. His eyes are wrong—too old, too aware, like looking at someone wearing a teenager's face as a mask.
"Comprehensive foundations," he repeats. "How practical."
He walks away. Doesn't sit, doesn't browse. Just came to observe, to file me away as data.
"Analysis complete. Target demonstrated: Recognition of technical error (probability 94.3%), suppression of reaction (probability 87.1%), evaluation of host's knowledge level (probability 99.2%). Conclusion: Subject Fang Yuan has identified host as possessing above-average theoretical knowledge. Threat assessment: Elevated from 'irrelevant' to 'potentially interesting.' Recommendation: Reduce contact frequency."
Too late for that.
FANG YUAN
The boy Mo Bei was becoming a variable.
Fang Yuan walked through the academy's eastern courtyard, processing the library encounter. Most students read theory they couldn't understand, desperate to impress instructors. Mo Bei had selected a specific text with a specific error—either by accident or design.
The Spring Autumn Cicada's memories offered no data. In five hundred years of loops, Mo Bei had never mattered. Just another mediocre student who died in the clan war or faded into obscurity.
But this timeline felt different. Small divergences. The way Mo Bei moved during sparring—calculated losses, deliberate mediocrity. The way he watched without appearing to watch.
Either he's smarter than previous versions, or something changed.
Fang Yuan filed the observation away. Variables were dangerous, but also opportunities. If Mo Bei developed into a useful tool, excellent. If he became a threat, simple to eliminate.
For now: observe.
Combat practice. Day 6.
Fang Zheng finds me after the third round of matches. His smile is genuine—painful to see in this world.
"Mo Bei!" He's slightly out of breath, sweat darkening his collar. "Good footwork in that last match. Want to spar together sometime? The B-ranks won't practice with me—say I'm too soft."
"Because you are." The words come out before I can stop them.
He laughs. "Maybe. But soft doesn't mean weak. You're one of the few who doesn't grovel to instructors or kick down at weaker students. Hard to find that here."
Great Sage runs probability trees. Befriending Fang Zheng offers multiple benefits: information on Fang Yuan, potential alliance, access to B-rank resources through association.
"Alright," I say. "Sparring sounds useful."
His grin widens. "Tomorrow morning, before classes? Eastern practice yard?"
"Done."
He claps my shoulder—too friendly, too trusting. This world is going to kill him. In canon, he dies defending clan elders during the siege. Heroic. Pointless.
Not my problem. I can't save everyone.
"Relationship established: Fang Zheng (Friendly). Strategic value: Moderate. Emotional risk: Host demonstrates attachment formation. Warning: Attachment creates vulnerability."
I know.
FANG ZHENG
Mo Bei was strange, but strange was better than cruel.
Fang Zheng had watched him during practice—deliberate losses, careful positioning, never celebrating wins or mourning defeats. Like someone playing a game where the score didn't matter.
Most students were predictable. The talented ones were arrogant. The weak ones were desperate. Mo Bei was neither. Just... calculating.
Maybe he's been hurt before. Learned to protect himself by not caring too much.
Fang Zheng understood protection. His brother Fang Yuan was the ultimate example—so protected by indifference that nothing touched him.
But Fang Zheng believed differently. Strength without compassion was just violence. If he could befriend Mo Bei, show him that kindness existed in this place, maybe it would matter.
Everyone deserves at least one friend who gives a damn.
Day 8. Evening.
The clone's awareness pulses in my skull—fragmented impressions, not full memories yet.
Market prices: Primeval stones up 12% near border towns. Jade Moon Town merchants nervous. Bai Clan buying supplies in bulk. Guard at tavern mentioned troop movements, dismissed as rumor. Local elder's daughter engaged to Bai Clan member—political marriage.
Small details. Nothing critical. But Great Sage catalogs everything, building patterns.
"Intelligence value: Low to moderate. Pattern analysis suggests Bai Clan preparing for extended operation. Probability of coordinated offensive: 34.7%, rising. Recommend continued monitoring."
The clone is safe, established, gathering data. Better outcome than the first one.
I'm in the dormitory when Fang Yuan passes in the hallway. Our eyes meet. He nods once—acknowledgment, not greeting.
After he's gone, I realize I'm holding my breath.
"Observation: Subject Fang Yuan's attention on host has increased 43% based on interaction frequency and duration. Assessment: Host is now actively tracked variable. Probability of future testing: 78.2%."
He's watching me now. Not as a threat yet, but as something that might become interesting.
I need to be more careful. Or more useful. Haven't decided which.
Outside, the moon rises. Somewhere fifty li north, my clone haggles with merchants and listens to gossip. Here, I'm a mediocre student practicing formations.
Split existence. Split purpose.
"Quest progress: 8 of 30 days. Void Stability: 87%. Clone network: One active, one dead. Great Sage accuracy: 54%. Assessment: Survival probability increasing due to information advantage and strategic positioning."
Eight days down. Twenty-two to go.
The numbers should comfort me. They don't.
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