The aftermath of the "Sect Crisis" was a busy time for everyone—except Han Zhao.
While the Inner Sect was busy burying heroes and the Elders were holding grim meetings about border security, Han Zhao was meticulously alphabetizing the History of Minor Mountain Irrigation on the second floor.
The "attack" by the Cloud-Devouring Sect had been a tactical skirmish. They hadn't come to take over; they had come to test the Blue Cloud Sect's defenses. In the process, several "rising stars" had been snuffed out.
Han Zhao had seen the list of casualties posted on the central bulletin board while he was out fetching the library's weekly ration of lamp oil. Chen Feng, the arrogant prodigy from Chapter One, hadn't died, but he had lost an arm to a fire-bomb. The boy who had called Han Zhao "trash" was now a cripple, his cultivation path likely severed forever.
The taller the tree, the harder the wind hits it, Han Zhao thought, blowing dust off a jade slip. I'm just a blade of grass. The wind passes right over me.
He was feeling particularly content until the heavy doors of the second floor creaked open.
Han Zhao immediately slumped his shoulders, dimmed the light in his eyes, and adopted his "meek servant" posture. He expected another arrogant disciple looking for a fight manual. Instead, he saw a young woman in the pale blue robes of a Core Disciple—the highest rank below an Elder.
She was stunning, with the kind of "jade-like beauty" that usually signaled a main character's love interest. But she looked terrible. Her robes were stained with dried blood, her face was gaunt, and her hand was pressed firmly against her side.
[System Scan Initiated...]
[Target: Su Lian. Status: Core Disciple.]
[Cultivation: Foundation Establishment - Level 2 (Internal Damage: Severe).]
[Danger Level: High (Desperate and Armed).]
Han Zhao groaned internally. A Core Disciple? In the second-floor library? Go to the infirmary! Go to your Master! Why are you here?
"You," she rasped, her voice trembling. "Librarian."
Han Zhao bowed so low his nose almost touched the floor. "This lowly one is Han Zhao, Senior Sister. How may I serve your eminence? If you are looking for the Cloud-Mist Sword forms, they were moved to the fourth floor..."
"Silence," she hissed, stumbling forward. She didn't head for the sword manuals. She collapsed into a chair in the furthest, darkest corner of the archive, hidden behind a stack of rotting maps. "If anyone asks... I was never here. Do you understand?"
Han Zhao looked at the trail of blood she had left on his freshly swept floor. His "Low-Key" instincts were screaming at him to run, to scream for help, or to kick her out. But a Foundation Establishment cultivator, even an injured one, could kill a "mortal" like him with a flick of her finger.
"This lowly one understands," Han Zhao said, his voice quivering (mostly with annoyance). "I am very forgetful, Senior Sister. I barely remember what I had for breakfast."
She looked at him, her eyes sharp and suspicious, then they clouded over as she slumped into unconsciousness.
[New Crisis Detected: 'The Dying Beauty' Trope.]
[Option 1: Report her to the Sect Elders. (Reward: 50 Spirit Stones. Risk: She or her faction kills you later for betrayal.)]
[Option 2: Help her heal secretly. (Reward: A 'Favor' from a Core Disciple. Risk: Being caught in whatever conspiracy she's fleeing.)]
[Option 3: Ignore her and clean the blood. (Reward: Peace and Quiet. Risk: She dies in your library and you get blamed for it.)]
Han Zhao stared at the screen. "Option 4," he whispered. "The Librarian's Way."
He didn't report her, and he didn't "heal" her with some miraculous pill. Instead, he went to the basement and grabbed a bucket of lye and a scrub brush.
First, he scrubbed the blood off the floor. Then, he used a minor technique he'd learned from a gardening manual—'Dust-Settling Breath'—to neutralize the scent of iron in the air.
Finally, he walked over to the unconscious Su Lian. He didn't touch her. Touching a Core Disciple was a great way to get your hands cut off. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dried root—a 'Bitter-Heart Weed'. It was a common plant that grew in the library's cracks. To most, it was a nuisance. To someone with Han Zhao's optimization system, it was a potent, albeit disgusting, stimulant.
He placed the weed on a small brazier nearby and lit it. The smoke was acrid and smelled like burnt hair.
Five minutes later, Su Lian's eyes snapped open. She gasped, coughing as the bitter smoke cleared the fog in her brain.
"You... what is that smell?" she demanded, reaching for a dagger hidden in her sleeve.
"Apologies, Senior Sister!" Han Zhao cried, dropping to his knees. "The library has a moth infestation! I am burning Bitter-Weed to save the scrolls! It is very pungent, but it is the only way!"
Su Lian blinked, her hand relaxing on the dagger. She felt a strange clarity in her mind. The smoke hadn't healed her wound, but it had stabilized her chaotic Qi. She looked at the floor—the blood was gone. She looked at the boy—he was just a frightened, soot-covered servant.
"You're... surprisingly efficient for a mortal," she muttered, clutching her side.
"I only wish to preserve the books, Senior Sister," Han Zhao said, keeping his head down. "If the books are ruined, Elder Lu will skin me alive. Please, feel free to... meditate in this corner. The 'History of Southern Swamps' section is very rarely visited. You won't be disturbed."
Su Lian stared at him for a long moment. She was a genius, a woman hunted by internal rivals who wanted the Azure Jade Seal she had retrieved during the attack. She expected everyone to want something from her. But this boy just seemed worried about moths and his boss.
"What is your name again?"
"Han Zhao, Senior Sister. " There was no point lying about his name. It could be found under investigation,and lying about a name may be less cost effective for the current situation.
"Fine, Han Zhao. If I survive the night, I will see that you are rewarded."
Please don't, Han Zhao thought. Your rewards are just targets painted on my back.
"You are too kind, Senior Sister. But truly, your presence is reward enough," he lied smoothly. "I shall return to my duties. I have several shelves of tax records to audit. It is... very time-consuming."
He backed away, bowing all the way.
As he returned to his desk, the System flickered.
[Task: Conceal a High-Level Cultivator. Status: Success.]
[Reward: 12 Hours of Longevity.]
[Passive Gain: 'Intermediate Disguise' proficiency increased.]
Han Zhao sat down and picked up a pen. He began to write, but he wasn't auditing taxes. He was practicing the 'Breath-Holding Art of the Dead' under the table.
While Su Lian struggled to survive the politics of the sect, Han Zhao was focused on a much more important goal.
[Current Life Expectancy: 74 Years, 127 Days.]
'One more day,' he thought. 'As long as she doesn't die on my carpet, I might just make it to seventy-five.'