Xu Chen had never seen 1000 silver Liang before. Neither had Yohan. That amount could buy a noble's mansion in any major city.
The fact that Mo Zhao handed over such wealth so willingly told Yohan everything he needed to know—his second brother had even deeper pockets.
Still, despite successfully extracting that fortune from Mo Zhao, Yohan felt irritated.
1000 silver Liang was valuable, sure. But if he burned through it gathering information, it would vanish in no time. He needed a plan. A sustainable income stream.
"Xu Chen, when does my punishment end?" Yohan asked.
"About two more days. What are you planning, Young Master?" Xu Chen's eyes narrowed as he watched Yohan's calculating expression.
Yohan smirked. "We need to go to Wufeng County. But that place won't be safe. At minimum, I need to protect myself. So..."
"So?"
Yohan clapped Xu Chen's shoulder. "You're going to convince Mo Zhao to train me."
Xu Chen's jaw dropped. He couldn't have heard that right. Yohan wanted Mo Zhao—Mo Zhao—to become his teacher? Was he insane?
"But Young Master, couldn't we hire someone else? With 1000 silver Liang, we could find several talented instructors—"
Yohan's smile turned razor-thin. "Why pay when you can get it free?"
Ah. Xu Chen understood now. Yohan planned to manipulate Mo Zhao again. Somehow, his Young Master had grown frighteningly bold.
Something's definitely wrong with him since that injury, Xu Chen thought with certainty.
But Yohan was already staring at him. "Don't think strange thoughts, Xu Chen. Or I'll take your head."
Xu Chen immediately grabbed his neck, shaking his head frantically with genuine terror.
"Prepare food. After that, find a way to talk to Mo Zhao about this."
Xu Chen's shock deepened. So he would be the sacrifice. He'd assumed Yohan would handle Mo Zhao directly. But no—Xu Chen would have to face him, which meant another beating from Lu Hanli.
But he had no choice. He was just a servant. His life belonged to his master. If Yohan demanded his death right now, he couldn't refuse.
What cruel fate!
With dragging steps, Xu Chen left to prepare Yohan's meal.
Meanwhile, Yohan walked back to the fish pond. He stared at his right hand. The dark energy there had grown stronger, vastly different from the light glowing in his left palm.
But Yohan didn't care. He felt powerful. The only problem? He'd never actually used Mana energy before. Only fragmented memories from the original Mo Yohan's body gave him any understanding of what he was experiencing.
Dark Mana swirled above his palm now. Can I throw this? he wondered.
He raised his hand, searching for a target. A bird perched on a dead tree in the corner of the courtyard would do.
Whoosh!
Kwaaak!
The attack nearly hit the bird. It flew away squawking. "Tch! Missed."
Xu Chen witnessed the whole thing. He nearly dropped the food tray he was carrying. His eyes bulged at the dark energy Yohan had just released.
"Y-Young Master... that was—"
Yohan whipped around, reflexes sharp. But seeing only Xu Chen, he relaxed slightly. "How long have you been standing there?"
"J-just now, Young Master. I brought food as you requested." Xu Chen stepped carefully forward, setting the tray on the stone table. His hands still trembled.
Yohan studied the dead tree. Now it had a gaping hole with scorched edges in its trunk. His attack had missed the bird, but the impact was... impressive.
"Xu Chen," Yohan said flatly. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
Xu Chen blinked in confusion. "G-ghosts, Young Master?"
"Yes. Ghosts." Yohan approached the tree, touching the charred section. Still warm. "Because if anyone asks, tell them this tree was struck by lightning. Or maybe... an angry ghost."
"B-but Young Master, the sky is clear. There's no—"
"Xu Chen." Yohan turned, eyes sharp. "I'm not discussing this. I'm giving you an order."
Xu Chen swallowed hard and nodded obediently. "U-understood, Young Master."
Yohan returned to the stone table and began eating calmly, though his mind raced. That dark energy was powerful. Too powerful for a body that hadn't even formed a proper Mana Core yet. So why could he wield it?
"Xu Chen, during your training—before becoming a servant—did you ever hear of someone using Mana energy without a Mana Core?"
Xu Chen thought hard, trying to recall old lessons. "As far as I know, that's impossible, Young Master. Mana energy must be stored and refined within a Mana Core. Without it, the energy runs wild and destroys the user's body."
"Destroys it how?"
"Burns from within, Young Master. Like... like putting fire into a pile of paper."
Yohan examined his right hand. Dark energy still pulsed there gently, but he felt no pain. On the contrary—he felt comfortable. As if the energy was a natural part of him.
Is it because I'm not the original Mo Yohan? he wondered. Or because my assassin soul is already familiar with... darkness?
"Young Master?" Xu Chen called carefully. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Yohan continued eating. "Go. Do what I told you. Talk to Mo Zhao about training."
Xu Chen looked ready to protest but only bowed his head. "I'll try, Young Master. But are you certain? The Second Young Master isn't easy to approach, especially for a request like this."
"You think I don't know that?" Yohan smirked. "But that's exactly why you need to go. Mo Zhao will be easier to influence if my servant approaches him. He'll think you're selling more jewelry, so he'll definitely meet you."
Xu Chen fell silent. His master's cunning was too sharp for someone who used to fear his own shadow.
"Go now. And Xu Chen—" Yohan's gaze turned deadly. "If I hear you told anyone what you saw—including Zhao—then that tree won't be the only thing with a hole in it today."
Cold crept down Xu Chen's spine. His Young Master wasn't joking. "I understand, Young Master!"
With hurried steps, Xu Chen fled the back courtyard.
Alone again, Yohan exhaled deeply. He stared at the remaining food, appetite gone. That energy had drained something from deep inside him. Not physical strength, but something more fundamental.
He closed his eyes, sensing energy flows around him. Energy from the pond, from the earth, from the air. Everything felt like delicate threads he could pull if he wanted.
But there was something else. Something darker, different from the Mana he absorbed from the fish pond. Like a bottomless abyss lurking at the edge of his consciousness.
Is this the result of my evil deeds? he wondered. Or is this my true power?
"First Brother?"
That hesitant voice made Yohan open his eyes. A young man stood at the courtyard entrance, looking awkward and uncertain whether to enter or leave.
He had an average build—not as massive as Mo Zhao, but not as thin as Yohan either. His face was soft, handsome in an unthreatening way. His eyes showed what looked like... genuine concern?
Yohan frowned. He didn't recognize this youth, but from his clothing—jade-green silk robes with elegant embroidery—he clearly wasn't ordinary.
"Who are you?" Yohan asked, voice guarded.
The young man blinked in surprise. "B-Brother... have you really lost your memory?"
Yohan stayed silent. Brother? So this was one of his siblings. Through process of elimination, he guessed this must be Mo Haoran. Third grandson. Mana Opening Stage Level 2.
"Mo Haoran," Yohan stated rather than asked.
Mo Haoran looked relieved. "Thank goodness! So you still remember my name. I was worried, I thought—"
"Why are you here?" Yohan cut him off. He had no time for pleasantries.
Mo Haoran looked hurt by Yohan's cold tone but stepped into the courtyard anyway. "I heard you'd woken up. I've wanted to visit for days, but Xu Chen said you were resting."
"And now?"
"Now I couldn't hold back anymore." Mo Haoran smiled faintly, awkwardly. "I had to make sure you were alright. Your injuries from the fight with Yuchen... were they serious?"
Yohan studied Mo Haoran carefully. No mockery in his voice. No hidden sneer or contemptuous gaze. Just... concern?
Interesting, Yohan thought. Among all my brothers, this one seems different.
"I'm fine," Yohan finally answered, tone slightly softer—not much, but enough not to sound completely hostile. "No need to worry."
"But Brother—" Mo Haoran glanced at the dead tree with its gaping hole. His eyebrows rose. "What happened to that tree?"
Yohan followed his gaze. "Termites."
"Termites?" Mo Haoran sounded doubtful. "Termites that can make a hole that big?"
"Very hungry termites."
Mo Haoran stared at Yohan for a moment, then suddenly laughed softly. "You've changed, Brother. You never used to joke like this."
"Maybe I'm tired of being the same person I was before."
"That's... good, I think." Mo Haoran smiled more genuinely this time. "I always felt you were too hard on yourself. Always bowing your head and closing yourself off, apologizing too much for things that weren't your fault."
Yohan didn't respond. He didn't know how to react to Mo Haoran's friendliness. In his past life, kindness always came with hidden costs. There was always an agenda behind smiles. And though Mo Haoran seemed friendly, Yohan didn't lower his guard.
"Why do you care?" Yohan asked suddenly.
Mo Haoran looked surprised by the question. "Of course because... you're my brother?"
"The useless brother. The brother who shames the great Mo family. Isn't that what everyone says?"
"I never thought that way." Mo Haoran stepped closer, sitting on the stone bench across from Yohan uninvited. "Zhao might be too proud of his own strength. Yuchen... too ambitious. But me? I just want us to be a real family."
Yohan watched Mo Haoran with an unreadable expression. The young man before him seemed too naive and honest. In this cruel world, people like him usually died first.
Or... was he just an excellent actor?
"You came just to say that?" Yohan asked.
"No." Mo Haoran pulled a small bottle from inside his robe. "I brought ointment for your wounds. This is a remedy from Physician Wang, the best in the sect. I... secretly took it."
He placed the bottle on the table, then stood. "I know you probably don't trust me. That's fine. But please... take care of yourself. This sect is dangerous, even for family."
Before Yohan could respond, Mo Haoran had already bowed respectfully—a bow that should be given to a senior—and left.
Yohan stared at the ointment bottle suspiciously. Was this genuine? Or a trap? Poison perhaps?
But then he remembered—Mo Haoran hadn't known he'd be here. This wasn't planned. It was spontaneous.
A caring brother, Yohan thought while picking up the bottle. Or a very talented actor?
He opened it, smelling the contents. Herbal. No strange odor. Seemed like ordinary ointment.
For the first time, Yohan felt... confused.
In his old world, everything was black and white. Enemy or ally. Kill or be killed. But here? There were shades of gray he'd never faced before.
"Mo Haoran," he murmured softly, watching his brother's retreating back. "Either you're a foolish good person, or a very clever villain."
He stored the ointment bottle. Wouldn't use it immediately, but wouldn't throw it away either.
For now, he would watch. Evaluate. And if necessary...
"I'll use you," he whispered to the wind. "Just like everyone else."
But somehow, a sliver of guilt lodged in his chest. An unfamiliar feeling. A feeling he didn't like.
Yohan shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had a mission, a purpose, and no room for melancholic feelings like this.
But still...
He glanced at the ointment bottle once more before closing his eyes again, continuing his practice of absorbing Mana energy from the pond.
New world. New rules.
And whether he wanted to admit it or not—he had to learn to play by different rules here.