The sect did not mourn.
It reorganized.
By morning, Elder Zhang's name was already being used in the past tense, spoken carefully and only when necessary. Guards had been reassigned. Seals replaced. Incense burned thicker than usual in the inner halls, as if the air itself needed to be convinced that order had returned.
Zhou Wei watched it happen from the margins.
He carried crates from one storage shed to another, hands sore, shoulders aching in the familiar way that helped him stay unnoticed. People did not look at servants when they wanted to believe everything was normal again.
But normal had shifted.
He felt it in the way eyes lingered a fraction longer before sliding away. In the way conversations stopped when he entered a room and resumed too quickly once he left. The sect was pretending not to see him, and that pretense required effort.
That worried him.
Mei Lin was no longer hiding.
Not openly. Not defiantly. But she had been moved.
The announcement came midmorning, delivered by a junior elder with an expression carefully scrubbed of emotion.
"Due to recent disruptions," the elder said, voice formal, "certain servant duties will be restructured. Mei Lin is reassigned to outer disciple assistance under provisional status."
A promotion.
Not generous. Not kind. Political.
Zhou Wei felt it the moment her name was spoken. The ripple spread fast. Curiosity. Speculation. Envy. And something sharper underneath.
Interest.
Mei Lin stood straight as the announcement ended, hands folded, face calm. She bowed correctly, thanked the elder, and stepped back into line without looking for anyone.
Zhou Wei did not approach her.
Not yet.
He watched instead as she was given a new robe. Still plain, still muted in color, but better cut. Cleaner lines. She tied it with steady hands, shoulders squared in a way that would have drawn attention even if no one meant to notice.
She was no longer invisible.
That was the price of surviving.
Throughout the day, Zhou Wei tracked the shift carefully. Desire Sense brushed against the sect, cataloging reactions without lingering. Some were harmless. Simple curiosity. Others were not.
A pair of outer disciples watched Mei Lin too closely during training setup, their interest sharp and unfiltered. A senior disciple asked unnecessary questions about her reassignment, tone too casual to be innocent. Even a junior elder glanced at her longer than propriety allowed.
Zhou Wei felt the warmth inside him tighten.
This was not Elder Zhang's hunger.
It was worse.
Diffuse. Unfocused. Harder to cut out cleanly.
By late afternoon, Mei Lin found him.
Not in the storeroom. Not by the south wall.
In the open.
She approached while he was repairing a cracked step near the outer path, tools laid out beside him. Servants and disciples passed close enough to hear them if they tried.
"You didn't come," she said quietly.
Zhou Wei did not look up immediately. "You were being watched."
"So were you."
"Yes."
He set the stone in place and wiped his hands on his robe before straightening. Only then did he meet her eyes.
"You handled it well," he said.
"I felt like an exhibit," she replied. "But I handled it."
That was true. Her emotions carried irritation and alertness, but not fear. Not the old kind.
"They promoted me," she continued. "So they can say they did something right."
"So they can keep you close," Zhou Wei corrected.
She did not argue. "That's what scares me."
"It should," he said.
A group of disciples passed nearby. Zhou Wei stepped slightly aside, increasing the distance between them without making it obvious. Mei Lin noticed and adjusted with him, the movement smooth and unspoken.
They were learning each other's rhythms too well.
"People are looking at me differently," she said once the path cleared. "Not just watching. Measuring."
Zhou Wei nodded. "You changed. They noticed."
"I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," he said.
She hesitated, then asked the question she had been circling all day.
"What happens to you now."
Zhou Wei exhaled slowly.
"I am already a problem," he said. "I interfered. I was present. I survived."
"And he died," she added.
"Yes."
She searched his face. "They'll connect it."
"Eventually," Zhou Wei replied. "Not cleanly. Not with proof. But suspicion does not need proof to grow."
Her jaw tightened. "Then you can't stay."
"No."
The word landed between them, heavy and final.
Mei Lin looked away first. She stared out toward the training grounds, where outer disciples practiced forms with loud, unnecessary intensity. Her hands curled slowly at her sides.
"I don't want to stay either," she said.
Zhou Wei felt the truth of it immediately. Not fear. Not impulse. Decision, forming quietly.
"Leaving openly would draw questions," he said. "Too many."
"And disappearing."
"Would raise fewer," he said. "Especially now."
She turned back to him. "They'll assume I ran."
"Yes."
"And you."
"I was never meant to be here," Zhou Wei replied.
They stood in silence, the sect moving around them as if they were part of the scenery. Bells rang. Orders were shouted. Life continued, careless and blind.
Mei Lin broke the silence.
"When," she asked.
"Soon," Zhou Wei said. "Before Heavenly Purity finishes reviewing records."
Her eyes sharpened. "They'll find things."
"They already have," Zhou Wei said. "They just haven't decided what to do with them yet."
That was the most dangerous window. When authority had questions but no conclusions.
Mei Lin nodded slowly. "Then we need to be gone before they start asking the wrong ones."
"Yes."
She glanced around, lowering her voice. "People are already asking about me."
"I know," Zhou Wei said. "I feel it."
Her mouth tightened. "I don't like that you can feel it."
"I don't either," he replied. "But it keeps us alive."
They separated again without saying more, the distance between them reestablished for the sake of appearances. Zhou Wei returned to his work. Mei Lin joined a group of outer disciples, posture correct, expression neutral.
From a distance, they looked like two people moving on parallel paths.
They were not.
As dusk approached, Zhou Wei felt a familiar presence press against the edges of the sect.
The Heavenly Purity elder.
Not moving openly. Observing.
Zhou Wei kept his head down as the elder passed through the outer paths, robes unmarked by dust or rain. The man's gaze swept the area methodically, lingering where disturbances had occurred, where emotions spiked.
When his eyes passed over Mei Lin, they paused.
Just a fraction too long.
Zhou Wei felt it like a hook sliding under his ribs.
The elder moved on.
Mei Lin exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening only after he was gone.
She found Zhou Wei again near the servants' quarters, voice low and controlled.
"He looked at me like he was counting," she said.
"Yes," Zhou Wei replied. "He's deciding whether you're a loose end."
Her fingers tightened. "And you."
"I'm already one," Zhou Wei said.
Night fell heavy and close, the sky low and starless. Zhou Wei packed only what he could carry unnoticed. A change of clothes. Dried rations. A few small tools. Nothing that would mark him as anything but a servant who left in a hurry.
Mei Lin did the same, returning to her quarters briefly under the pretense of reorganizing after reassignment. She left behind her old robe, folded neatly on the sleeping mat.
A clean ending.
They met one last time by the south wall.
No words were wasted.
"The moment they realize I'm gone," Mei Lin said, "they'll search."
"Yes."
"And when they realize you're gone."
"They'll stop pretending," Zhou Wei said.
She nodded once. "Then let's not give them time."
Zhou Wei looked back at the Clear Stream Sect, its walls pale in the moonless dark. He felt no nostalgia. Only calculation.
"This place made us small," he said quietly. "It won't do that again."
Mei Lin met his gaze, something hard and steady in her eyes.
"I'm not small anymore," she said.
Zhou Wei believed her.
As they slipped into the darkness beyond the wall, the sect behind them continued its careful routines, unaware that two of its most inconvenient truths had just walked away.
By the time the sun rose again, Clear Stream would be missing more than a servant and a newly promoted disciple.
It would be missing control.
And Zhou Wei knew, with absolute certainty, that whatever came next would not allow him to remain unseen ever again.