The calm after Shen Rui's visit lasted exactly one hour.
After that, Huo'an returned to its usual rhythm: merchants setting up stalls, cultivators crossing streets with calculated urgency, rumors moving faster than people. Lin Ye couldn't see any of it from his recovery room, but he felt it. The Threshold reacted subtly, like exposed skin to the weather.
Someone was making decisions.
—They won't leave you alone —Yan Mo said while examining an uninscribed tablet—. Rejecting the Shen House was… brave. Or foolish. I haven't decided yet.
Lin Ye sat with his back against the wall, breathing carefully. He had managed to stay upright for more than a few minutes without his body violently protesting. According to the Sutra, that already counted as progress.
—If they come back —he replied—, at least let them bring better manners.
Yan Mo glanced at him.
—Not everyone who comes will announce themselves like Shen Rui.
As if the comment were an invitation, someone knocked.
Not an authoritative knock. Not a forced entry. Three soft, spaced, respectful taps.
Yan Mo frowned.
—Curious.
He opened the door cautiously.
A woman stood on the other side. She wore simple traveler's clothes, no visible emblems. Her hair was tied back practically, and a worn leather satchel hung from her shoulder. Her cultivation was hard to pinpoint: stable Spirit Core, but with strange fluctuations, as if part of her aura were deliberately concealed.
—Yan Mo? —she asked calmly.
—Depends who's asking —he replied.
She smiled faintly.
—My name is Su Yanlin. I'm here for the injured one.
Yan Mo didn't move.
—We don't accept visits without a clear purpose.
—Perfect —she said—. Then I'll be clear.
She produced a small dark wooden box and opened it carefully. Inside were several thin strips of translucent material, threaded with filaments of extremely pure qi.
Yan Mo's eyes narrowed.
—Flexible sealing essences… —he murmured—. You don't see those often in the West.
—I don't sell them —Su Yanlin said—. I use them. And I know exactly what he needs them for.
From inside the room, Lin Ye spoke:
—If you're here to help me, you can come in. If you're here to buy me, you can leave.
Su Yanlin turned toward him, studying him for the first time. Not as merchandise. Not as an anomaly. As if she were assessing a person… tired.
—I don't buy people —she replied—. I invest in interesting situations.
Lin Ye raised an eyebrow.
—That's not much better.
She laughed softly.
Yan Mo hesitated, then stepped aside.
—Come in —he said—. But choose your words carefully.
Su Yanlin entered unhurriedly and stopped a few steps from Lin Ye.
—You look worse than they say —she remarked.
—I'm flattered that the official version is kinder —Lin Ye replied.
She crouched in front of him without invading his space and opened the box again.
—Your problem —she said— isn't only physical. Your transitions are… frayed. If you try to use the Threshold without stabilizing them, the cost will keep accumulating.
Lin Ye watched her closely.
—And you know how to prevent that?
—Not prevent —she corrected—. Manage.
Yan Mo frowned.
—That's not something easily taught.
—It isn't taught —she agreed—. It's accompanied.
The silence grew expectant.
—Price? —Lin Ye asked directly.
Su Yanlin met his gaze.
—Access —she replied—. I want to observe your progress. Nothing more.
—Reports? Records? Hidden archives? —he listed.
—No —she said—. Just to be present when you can move. I travel often. Having someone like you nearby… is convenient.
Lin Ye sighed.
—Everyone wants something.
—Of course —she said, unoffended—. The difference is whether they hide it.
Yan Mo remained silent, observing carefully. Finally, he spoke:
—I detect no hostile intent.
—That doesn't mean there's no interest —Lin Ye replied.
Su Yanlin smiled.
—There is interest. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But I don't need you obedient. I need you alive.
Something in the way she said it didn't sound like a threat.
The Fragmented Threshold Sutra vibrated softly. Not approving. Not rejecting. Just… recording.
Lin Ye closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
—Fine —he said—. You can stay. But on one condition.
Su Yanlin inclined her head.
—I'm listening.
—No decisions for me —he continued—. If I see you moving pieces without telling me, it's over.
She studied him for a few seconds, then nodded.
—Fair —she said—. That makes it more interesting.
Yan Mo let out a restrained sigh.
—Looks like you've gained an ally —he commented.
—By interest —Lin Ye corrected.
—The best ones start that way —Su Yanlin replied.
As they spoke, elsewhere in Huo'an, Shen Rui clenched his teeth in front of a table full of reports.
—He refused —he said—. And now someone else has approached him.
An older figure seated across from him laced their fingers together.
—Then he's no longer an isolated anomaly —they replied—. He's a point of convergence.
—Orders? —Shen Rui asked.
The figure smiled coldly.
—Observe —they said—. And if a minor opportunity presents itself… apply pressure.
Back in the room, Su Yanlin carefully applied the translucent strips around Lin Ye's chest. The contact was precise, professional… yet inevitably close. Lin Ye felt a faint warmth, not painful, stabilizing something inside him.
—This won't heal you —she warned—. It will only keep you from getting worse when you think too much about using your tricks.
—Then it's perfect —Lin Ye replied—. Overthinking is my specialty.
She smiled briefly.
For the first time in days, Lin Ye felt the margin stop tightening.