Wang Ben spent the next five days over the Sanctuary Array diagrams. On the second day, the first materials arrived in a packet of carved jade slips. A sealed crate followed the next day.
He laid the slips beside the drawings and asked the System to compare them. Some answers came only after he had put the work aside for the night. Others remained incomplete. He corrected what he could and left the rest for another pass.
His father had doubled the watch. Li Mei rarely left the family quarters, though she still carried Wang Chen through the courtyard, where he reached for the hanging lanterns. Wang Ben could hear him from the room where he worked.
On the sixth morning, his mother came to tell him she was going to Physician Luo.
"My cultivation has been growing less stable," Li Mei said. She shifted Wang Chen higher in her arms. "I've put off seeing him long enough."
She had been unable to advance beyond early-stage qi condensation for years. Wang Ben looked at her tired face, then put down his brush.
"I'll come with you."
"You don't need to, Ben."
"I'm coming. Is Chen going too?"
"His monthly assessment is due." She looked down at the child. "Physician Luo says he shows more promise than you did at his age."
Wang Ben smiled and let his brother catch his finger. Then he looked toward the sword beside his desk. His mother and Chen would both be outside the protection of the clan's formations.
[RECOMMENDATION: Foundation establishment escort advised.]
His father had already gone to the Alchemists' Guild to search their archives for anything that might help Li Mei. He would not be back before evening.
The Patriarch had forbidden Wang Ben to leave the compound. That order still stood. He freed his finger from Chen's grip and reached for his sword.
"We'll take the main streets," he said. "We should be back before midday."
Two Wang guards accompanied them, both peak mid-stage qi condensation cultivators who had served the family for years. Wang Ben walked beside his mother. He kept his hand near his sword as they passed through the gates.
The medicine halls stood near the eastern market. Merchants were still arranging their wares, and there was room to walk without brushing against anyone. Wang Chen reached toward a bright awning as his mother carried him beneath it. Wang Ben looked past the stall to the people coming along the street.
Across from the clinic, Zhao Yu was waiting at an herb merchant's stall. He caught Wang Ben's eye and lifted the packet the merchant had just handed him.
"Father's tonic," Zhao Yu called.
Wang Ben nodded and followed his mother inside.
The guards waited below while Physician Luo took them upstairs to his receiving room. The old physician had treated three generations of cultivator children, and he greeted Wang Chen before asking Li Mei to sit. Wang Ben stayed near the door while she described the trouble with her cultivation.
Physician Luo listened, then examined her.
"The blockage in your meridians is more extensive than I'd hoped," he said. "The treatment will take several hours. Perhaps you should come back this afternoon."
"We can wait." Wang Ben glanced at his mother. He did not want to bring her through the streets twice.
Li Mei adjusted Chen in her lap. "Ben, you don't have to stay all that time. The guards are here."
"I'm staying," he said.
Wang Ben felt qi approaching along the street.
He turned toward the window. Beneath the unfamiliar pressure was a trace he recognized, the same corruption he had felt when a man's shoulder brushed his in the market.
[ALERT: Possible demonic corruption markers. Source: Host spiritual sense.]
His hand closed around his sword hilt.
"Mother, stay in this room."
Li Mei looked up. "Ben?"
He was already at the stairs. The two guards turned as he came down.
"Go upstairs. There are demonic cultivators coming. Keep them away from my mother and brother."
The older guard drew his sword. "Young master, you should..."
"I'll hold them outside. Protect my family until help comes."
The guard looked past him toward the stairs, then nodded to his companion. Wang Ben heard their feet on the steps as he went out.
Three men rounded the corner. A merchant beside the clinic left his baskets and hurried indoors. Farther along the street, people began moving away from the approaching cultivators.
Wang Ben drew his sword.
The man in the middle was the one from the market. He was no longer concealing his qi. The two beside him were strangers, but Wang Ben felt the same corruption in them. The largest kept coming while the others spread out across the road that led back toward the compound.
"You finally came out," the largest man said. "Xue Feng said you would."
Wang Ben kept the clinic door behind him. "Where is he?"
"Making preparations." The man smiled, showing teeth too long for his mouth. "He sent us to soften you up. Perhaps take a few trophies."
He looked toward the upper window.
Wang Ben glanced up. His mother was there. He stepped farther from the doorway, raising his sword.
The man from the market lunged first.
Wang Ben turned aside and cut across his forearm. His blade reached bone. Blood ran over the man's hand, but he laughed and struck again.
Wang Ben had to retreat to avoid it. The second man moved around his left side. He turned to meet him, and the wounded cultivator came in before he could finish the cut.
He shortened the stroke and brought his sword back. Steel struck steel. The second man's blade slipped past his guard and opened a shallow cut across his ribs.
Wang Ben backed toward the clinic. He put both hands on the hilt to turn the next blow, but the force drove his sword aside. His left hand slipped free. He could barely feel the arm.
The largest man had stayed out of reach, watching.
"Enough," he said, and stepped between his companions. His pressure had been driven to peak late-stage qi condensation, brushing the threshold of foundation establishment. "Xue Feng wants you alive. He didn't say intact."
Wang Ben tried to bring his sword around.
The man struck with his palm. Corrupt qi gathered around the hand as it drove toward Wang Ben's ribs. Wang Ben's blade was too far to the side, his body still turning from the last blow.
A saber struck the man's wrist.
The palm veered past Wang Ben's chest. He staggered clear and saw Zhao Yu beside him, his blade already coming back up.
The largest cultivator pulled his arm close. His wrist hung at an angle. He looked at Zhao Yu, then at the open clinic door.
"Finish him."
He rushed past Wang Ben and through the doorway.
Wang Ben turned after him, but the wounded cultivator cut across his path. He caught the blade on his own and tried to push through. The second man struck from the side, forcing him back.
Zhao Yu met that man's next attack. Wang Ben tried again to reach the door. Blood dripped from the wounded cultivator's forearm as he drove him away from it, step by step.
Inside, feet pounded up the stairs.
Wang Ben's back touched the wall beside the entrance. He could see the doorway past his opponent's shoulder, but every move toward it brought the man's blade across his path.
Wood broke upstairs. One of the guards shouted, then fell silent.
His mother had the talisman. Wang Ben held on to that as he raised his sword again.
Tear the seal, Mother.
...
Li Mei backed into the far corner with Wang Chen against her shoulder as the door burst inward.
The guards stood between her and the man coming through it. His injured wrist hung close to his body. He struck with his other hand.
The first blow knocked a guard's sword aside. The second broke through his raised arm. The third caught him in the chest, and he fell dead across the broken door.
The other guard stepped over him.
He had served her family for nine years. For five breaths he kept the attacker away from her, giving ground across the room. His sword opened the man's ribs before the next blow killed him.
Li Mei pressed herself against the wall. Corrupt qi filled the room, making it hard to breathe. The man stepped over the second body and came toward her.
Chen was crying against her neck.
She reached inside her sleeve and pulled out the jade talisman. Her fingers closed over the seal of the Golden Bell Shield Talisman.
She tore it.
Golden light spread from her hand and enclosed her and Chen. A bell sounded through the room and out the broken doorway.
The man's palm struck the light in front of her face.
Li Mei flinched, turning Chen away from it. The bell rang again. The blow had stopped outside.
The man drew back his good hand and struck harder. Dark qi flared from his palm. The golden bell held.
He struck again, then again. Li Mei kept her face turned against Chen's hair. She could see the man's feet beyond the light and the blood falling from his wounded side.
The blows stopped.
She looked up. He stood close to the bell, breathing hard, his injured arm still held against him. He stared at her through the gold, then turned toward the stairs.
Li Mei stayed in the corner with Chen in her arms. The light still enclosed them. Beyond it, neither guard moved.
...
In the private room above the Quiet Cup, Shen Ruoxi sat with her hands in her lap. Her tea had gone untouched since the fighting began.
Her brother's attendant rose to refill his cup. All three followed the fight near the clinic with their spiritual senses.
"Do you know any of them?" Shen Wuyan asked.
"No." The attendant lowered the kettle. "But they are only qi condensation cultivators. Whoever sent them can afford to lose them."
Wuyan turned his cup between his palms. "Do their techniques tell you anything?"
"Possibly Corpse Yin Sect ties," the attendant said. "I would not be certain. The sect often turns weaker cultivators into puppets or refined corpses."
Ruoxi looked at her brother. He had not drunk the fresh tea.
"We should help him," she said.
"No," Wuyan replied, still holding the cup.
"Brother, he is already hurt." Ruoxi leaned forward. "How much more do you need to see?"
Wuyan looked up at her. "How will we learn what he can do if we keep stepping in for him?"
Ruoxi held his gaze. "And if he dies?"
"He will not die," Wuyan said.
He raised the cup and drank. Beside him, the attendant set the kettle back on the table.
Ruoxi's fingers tightened in her lap. She turned toward the window again, following the fighting beyond the reach of her eyes.
...
The bell sounded above Wang Ben.
He looked up. Golden light filled the upper window.
When he brought his eyes back to the street, the man with the wounded forearm was falling. Zhao Yu drew his saber back as the cultivator dropped to his knees, then pitched forward. Wang Ben had missed the killing stroke.
The second man cut at Zhao Yu's neck. Zhao Yu moved inside the swing and raised his blade. The cultivator was still turning to follow him when his throat met the edge.
He fell beside his companion.
Wang Ben felt Zhao Yu's qi pressing more strongly against his senses. His friend had barely paused between the two men.
[OBSERVATION: Zhao Yu cultivation pressure rising. Pattern consistent with Battle Soul activity.]
Footsteps struck the stairs inside the clinic.
The largest cultivator stopped partway down. His good hand gripped the rail. Blood had soaked his robe along one side. He looked from the bodies in the street to Zhao Yu, then back toward the bell.
Zhao Yu moved toward him.
The man sprang from the steps, raising his good hand. Zhao Yu had already begun to turn aside. The palm struck past him, and his saber cut across the cultivator's back as the man landed.
The wound was shallow. The man whirled and struck again.
Wang Ben pushed away from the wall. His left arm still hung numb, and blood clung to his shirt over his ribs. He came in beside Zhao Yu and thrust at the attacker's exposed side.
The man twisted away from his sword. Zhao Yu followed the turn with his saber, forcing him to pull back again. Wang Ben kept close enough to threaten another thrust. He could not meet the man's palm head-on, but he could stop him turning freely toward Zhao Yu.
"Xue Feng!" the cultivator shouted.
A new pressure reached Wang Ben from the alley.
Xue Feng came out into the street. Black lines showed beneath his pale skin, moving as he walked. Wang Ben shifted to keep him in sight.
Xue Feng stopped beside the two bodies and spat on them.
"Useless. Three of you against a pair of early-stage qi condensation cultivators."
The surviving man bared his teeth. "You were supposed to come before they were dead."
"Then the plan changed," Xue Feng said.
The man glanced toward the alley and began backing away.
Zhao Yu followed. His blade opened the man's shoulder as he turned, then caught him across the ribs. The cultivator swung at him and missed. Zhao Yu's next cut opened the already damaged wrist.
Wang Ben held his sword toward Xue Feng. He could hear the surviving cultivator's feet scraping over the stones as Zhao Yu pressed him, but he could no longer turn to help.
Xue Feng was looking at him, his face full of hate.
"Wang Ben."
His mouth drew into a smile. Then his eyes lifted to the clinic window, where Li Mei held Chen inside the golden bell.
Wang Ben tightened his grip on the sword.