The Redstone Material Exchange occupied a corner building near the merchant district's heart, its stone facade weathered by decades of commerce. Wang Ben climbed the steps with the weight of inevitability settling into his shoulders.
He already knew what he would find. The past three days had been a systematic elimination of possibilities, each lead closing into another dead end. Private collectors had nothing to sell. Expedition companies weren't running harvests. And now, the Exchange's public registry would confirm what his growing suspicion had been whispering.
The same clerk from his previous visit looked up as he entered. Recognition flickered across her weathered features.
"Young Master Wang. You're persistent, I'll give you that."
"The shadow-drinking crystal shipments." Wang Ben kept his voice level. "I need to know who's been acquiring them."
"You asked about the Crimson Sky Trading contract last time. That one's still locked." She consulted her ledgers with practiced efficiency. "But if you're looking for alternatives, I can tell you the registered acquisitions over the past six months."
"Please."
The clerk traced columns of characters, her finger moving down lists that represented fortunes changing hands. "Interesting pattern here. Twenty-three separate shadow-drinking crystal contracts have been fulfilled since winter. All of them acquired by intermediary buyers."
"Intermediaries?"
"Purchasing agents who don't disclose their principals. Legal, common enough for wealthy clients who value privacy." She looked up, something knowing in her expression. "What's unusual is that all twenty-three used the same banking house for their deposits. Golden Phoenix Finance, based in the domain capital."
[OBSERVATION: Coordinated acquisition pattern detected]
[Analysis: Single financing source suggests unified buyer. Golden Phoenix Finance maintains exclusive contracts with Crimson Bastion governmental entities.]
[Note: Probability of coincidence: Less than 3%]
Wang Ben absorbed the information, feeling pieces click into place. Not bad luck. Not market scarcity. Someone had systematically cornered the shadow-drinking crystal supply across the entire Azure Crimson Kingdom.
"Is there any crystal available that wasn't purchased through these intermediaries?"
The clerk shook her head. "Not in registered channels. There might be private holdings, older stockpiles. But anything that's moved through official commerce in the past six months has gone to Golden Phoenix's clients."
"The Blackwood expeditions?"
"Suspended indefinitely. War disruption, official reasoning. Though between us..." She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "The expedition companies received very generous compensation to stop running. Someone wanted the crystal sources closed, not just the existing supply acquired."
The cold realization that had been building in Wang Ben's chest crystallized into certainty. This wasn't about shadow-drinking crystal specifically. This was about someone deliberately ensuring that he could not acquire the materials he needed.
"Thank you for your time."
He left the Exchange with his mind working through implications. The Crimson Bastion. Blackwood Domain's capital, and through Domain Lord Tie Wushan's connections to the throne, a power that reached far beyond its borders. They had lost three delegates in Redstone City, killed by Shen Wuyan after the auction. They had invested heavily in the Xue Clan, now destroyed.
And now they were stockpiling formation materials across the kingdom.
[QUERY: Crimson Bastion strategic positioning]
[Analysis: Pattern suggests preparation for large-scale formation work. Defensive arrays most probable given material types acquired.]
[Alternative hypothesis: Denial strategy. Preventing specific parties from accessing critical resources.]
[Insufficient data to determine primary objective.]
Either possibility was troubling. If the Bastion was building something, they were doing it quietly, without official announcements or public construction. If they were specifically blocking him, then someone in the domain capital had connected Wang Ben to the array project.
Neither option left him with any path to acquiring shadow-drinking crystal in the next month.
Wang Ben sat in a tea house three streets from the Exchange, a cup going cold before him while he reviewed his options.
He could cut corners. Use inferior materials, substitute something that might work well enough. The array would be weaker, the protection less reliable, but it would exist. He could meet the deadline and fulfill his obligation to the Phantom Gate.
The System's assessment of that approach was immediate.
[WARNING: Substitution materials reduce array effectiveness by 40-60%]
[Probability of successful protection during nascent soul breakthrough: Decreased from moderate-high range to critically low. Estimated success probability less than one in three.]
[Recommendation: Do not proceed with compromised design. Failure risk unacceptably high.]
Thirty-one percent. Less than one chance in three that Shen Ruoxi would survive her breakthrough with a flawed array. And if she died because he had cut corners to meet an arbitrary deadline...
Wang Ben thought about Shen Wuyan. About the casual way the ancient cultivator had mentioned what happened to those who disappointed him. About the three favors he still owed, and how the value of those favors depended on Wuyan's continued regard.
He could lie. Tell Wuyan that the materials were acquired, that everything was on schedule. Buy himself time while he searched for other solutions. Hope that something changed before the deadline arrived.
But lies had consequences. And lying to a nascent soul cultivator who had survived twenty-eight centuries was a form of suicide that just took longer.
Which left only one option.
Tell the truth. Admit that he had failed to acquire the materials. Accept whatever consequences followed.
Wang Ben drained his cold tea and rose from the table. The walk to The Quiet Cup took fifteen minutes through streets that seemed different now, sharper, more immediate. The late spring sun cast everything in golden light, beautiful and indifferent to the weight he carried.
The Quiet Cup was empty except for the proprietor, an elderly woman who nodded once as Wang Ben entered and then retreated to the back room without being asked. Whatever arrangement Shen Wuyan maintained with this establishment, it clearly included privacy on demand.
Wuyan sat at his usual table, a cup of tea steaming gently before him. His plain robes and unremarkable features were the same as always, the perfect disguise for something ancient and dangerous. He looked up as Wang Ben approached, and that mild smile crossed his face.
"Young Master Wang. You seem troubled."
Wang Ben sat across from him, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. The words had to be precise. Not excuses, not deflection. Just the truth.
"I cannot acquire the shadow-drinking crystal in time. Every source has been blocked."
Wuyan's expression didn't change. He lifted his tea, took a measured sip, and set the cup back down with deliberate care. The silence stretched, heavy with implications.
"Blocked," he repeated. "An interesting choice of words. Not unavailable. Not scarce. Blocked."
"The Crimson Bastion has acquired every crystal shipment in the kingdom through intermediary buyers. They've paid the expedition companies to stop running harvests. The supply has been deliberately cornered."
"Has it." Wuyan's voice held no surprise. No anger. Just that same mild interest he brought to everything. "And how did you determine this?"
"The Material Exchange registry. All acquisitions trace back to the same banking house. Golden Phoenix Finance, which maintains exclusive contracts with Bastion governmental entities." Wang Ben met the ancient cultivator's gaze steadily. "Someone doesn't want this array to be built."
"Someone." Wuyan smiled, and there was something different in it now. Sharper. More real. "You could have substituted inferior materials. Met the deadline with a compromised design. Why didn't you?"
Wang Ben thought about lying, about claiming noble motives he wasn't sure he possessed. But Wuyan would see through it, and the truth was simpler anyway.
"Because a flawed array has less than one chance in three of protecting your sister. And if she died because I cut corners to save face, you would do worse than kill me."
The silence that followed was different. Wuyan studied him with an intensity that felt like physical pressure, that ancient intelligence behind mild eyes weighing and measuring.
"I've known about the Bastion's stockpiling for three weeks." Wuyan's voice was soft, almost gentle. "Since before your last meeting with Qian Weishan. The question was never whether you could acquire the materials. The question was what you would do when you couldn't."
Wang Ben felt something cold settle in his stomach. A test. The entire struggle of the past month, the dead ends and closed doors and impossible deadline, had been a test.
"You wanted to see if I would try to hide it."
"I wanted to see who you are when success is impossible." Wuyan lifted his tea again. "Many would have cut corners. More would have lied. You did neither. You came here and told me the truth, knowing that it might cost you everything." He took a slow sip. "That tells me something useful."
"What does it tell you?"
"That you can be trusted with things more valuable than crystal." Wuyan set down his cup with a soft click. "By next spring, then. When the snows melt. The materials will be available by then, through channels the Bastion cannot block."
Relief flooded through Wang Ben, sharp and immediate. Spring. That was nearly a year away. Time enough to find what he needed, to refine the design, to do this properly.
But underneath the relief, something else stirred. Suspicion. Why was Wuyan so calm about this? What did an ancient cultivator gain from extending the timeline?
"You're not angry about the delay."
"Should I be?" Wuyan's smile returned, mild and unreadable. "My sister has waited decades for this breakthrough. Another year changes nothing for her. But it tells me much about you, Wang Ben. About how you think. How you respond to pressure. How you handle failure."
The door to the tea house opened, and Shen Ruoxi entered.
She moved with her usual predatory grace, but Wang Ben could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness around her eyes. She'd heard, somehow. Probably from Wuyan himself, informed the moment Wang Ben's decision became clear.
"So." Her voice was flat, controlled. "Decades of preparation. What's another year?"
The bitterness was real, undisguised. She didn't look at Wang Ben as she spoke, her gaze fixed on her brother with something that might have been accusation.
"It's better than dying, Ruoxi." Wuyan's tone was gentle. "You know that."
"I know that I've been ready for thirty years. I know that every delay is another chance for something to go wrong. I know that the longer I wait, the more I wonder if the universe is trying to tell me something."
"The universe tells us nothing. We interpret, and often incorrectly." Wuyan rose, moving to his sister's side. "Spring will come. The array will be built. And you will face your breakthrough with the best protection possible, not a compromised imitation created under impossible pressure."
Ruoxi's jaw tightened, but she nodded once. Then her gaze finally shifted to Wang Ben, and he saw something unexpected beneath the frustration. Understanding. Perhaps even a trace of respect.
"You could have tried to hide it," she said. "Bought yourself time with lies. Most would have."
"Most haven't seen what happens when your brother is disappointed."
Something that might have been amusement flickered across her features. "True enough." She turned away, moving toward the tea house's back room. "Spring, then. Don't waste the time he's giving you."
She was gone before Wang Ben could respond.
Wuyan resumed his seat, picking up his tea as if nothing had occurred. "You should return home. Rest. The immediate pressure has lifted, but the work remains. Use the time well."
"Senior Shen." Wang Ben hesitated, then pushed forward. "The Bastion's stockpiling. It's not just about blocking my materials, is it?"
"Very little the Bastion does is about just one thing." Wuyan's eyes held something ancient and knowing. "They're building something. Preparing for something. The crystal shortage is a side effect of larger purposes." He smiled, and it didn't reach his eyes. "But that's a concern for another day. For now, be grateful that their machinations have given you what you needed."
"What I needed?"
"Time." Wuyan lifted his cup in a gesture that might have been a toast. "Time to prove what kind of person you truly are. You've made a good start."
Evening found Wang Ben in the family quarters, sitting with his parents as the last light faded from the windows.
He had told them about the extension, carefully edited to remove the parts about tests and ancient cultivators who had been watching his failures. Just the essential truth: the materials couldn't be acquired in time, the deadline had been pushed to spring, the immediate crisis had passed.
Wang Tian's relief was visible in the loosening of his shoulders, the way his tea cup steadied in his hands. "Spring. That's time enough to do this properly."
"The Bastion connection worries me." Li Mei's voice was quiet, her gaze thoughtful. "If they're deliberately blocking resources, they're watching more closely than we assumed."
"They lost people here. Investments. Face." Wang Ben set down his own cup. "It makes sense that they'd want to understand what happened."
"Understanding is one thing. Active interference is another." Li Mei looked at her husband, something passing between them. "We should be more careful about what we discuss openly. Who we're seen with."
Wang Tian nodded slowly. "I'll speak with the compound security captain. And perhaps we should limit Ben'er's trips to the merchant district for a while. If the Bastion is watching..."
"They're watching everyone." Wang Ben thought about the coordinated acquisitions, the systematic cornering of supplies. "This isn't just about us. They're building something. Or preventing something from being built."
"Either possibility is concerning." Wang Tian's expression was grave. "The Bastion doesn't move without purpose. Whatever they're preparing for, it's large enough to justify kingdom-wide resource manipulation."
Wang Chen chose that moment to wake from his nap, his cry cutting through the heavy atmosphere. Li Mei rose smoothly, lifting the infant with practiced ease. The baby's distress faded as soon as he was held, his small face settling into sleepy contentment.
"Whatever they're planning, it's not our immediate concern." Li Mei's voice was practical, grounding. "We have a year. Use it well, Ben'er. Design the best array you can. Let the larger politics sort themselves out."
Good advice. Simple and sensible.
But as Wang Ben watched his mother soothe his brother, he couldn't shake the feeling that the larger politics wouldn't wait for them to be ready. The Bastion was moving. Xue Feng was watching. And somewhere in the darkness beyond the walls, something hungry continued to observe.
The weight of attention hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown stronger over the past few days. More focused. More patient.
Something was coming. And a year suddenly didn't feel like very much time at all.
END OF CHAPTER 64