Tu Shun's smile was too relaxed.
That meant he thought the answer was already his, one way or another.
Ma Qiao stood off to the side, knife in his good hand, swollen wrist tucked close to his belly. His eyes stayed on Wuchen's sleeves and belt, reading where a boy might hide things. Qin Sui didn't move, spear tip angled toward the ground but ready to lift in a heartbeat. The freckled boy hovered behind them, shaking, clutching his single redscale leaf like it could keep him alive.
And Sun Jiao was absent on purpose.
Wuchen understood the shape immediately.
If this went bad, Sun Jiao would return later and say he knew nothing. Tools broke in the mountain all the time. That was the easiest truth.
Tu Shun asked again, voice mild. "Where are the tusks?"
Wuchen kept his shoulders slumped, breathing steady. "Captain has them," he said.
Tu Shun chuckled. "Captain isn't here," he replied. "So you tell me."
Wuchen didn't answer.
Tu Shun stepped closer, eyes glittering. "You ran from a Qi Condensation man," he said. "You came back alive. That means you're clever. Clever boys don't trust captains."
Ma Qiao's eyes narrowed, listening.
Qin Sui's gaze flicked once to Tu Shun, then back to Wuchen.
Tu Shun's voice stayed friendly. "Maybe you saw where Captain hid the pack," he said. "Maybe he told you. Maybe you're holding it."
Wuchen's cheek still ached from the shelf slap. His forearm bandage was damp from the chase. His lash wounds pulled under his shirt.
He did not let pain show in his eyes.
He asked quietly, "If I tell you," he said, "what do I get?"
Tu Shun's smile widened. "You get to stay in the team," he said. "You get protection."
Wuchen nodded slightly. "Protection from who?" he asked.
Tu Shun's eyes sharpened for a fraction. "From me," he said.
Wuchen's mouth twitched faintly. "Then it isn't protection," he said. "It's a threat."
Tu Shun's smile didn't fade. "Threats keep people honest."
Ma Qiao shifted his weight slightly. Qin Sui's spear tip lifted a finger's width.
The air tightened.
Wuchen understood he had one chance to change the shape of this moment.
Not by fighting Tu Shun. Tu Shun was big and hungry. He could be stabbed, but stabbing him would make Ma Qiao and Qin Sui decide whether Wuchen was worth keeping. And in the mountain, worth was measured in what you carried.
So Wuchen did what he always did.
He gave them something else to bite.
He looked at Ma Qiao and spoke softly. "Your wrist," he said.
Ma Qiao's eyes narrowed. "What about it?"
Wuchen kept his voice flat. "You were grabbed," he said. "Qi pressure. Bone pain."
Ma Qiao's face tightened.
Wuchen continued, "If it swells more, your hand won't hold a knife," he said. "Then you become the freckled boy."
The freckled boy flinched.
Tu Shun snorted. "He can cry about it later."
Wuchen ignored Tu Shun and looked at Qin Sui. "Your spear," he said.
Qin Sui's eyes narrowed. "Speak."
Wuchen said, "If we fight each other now, we bleed. Blood draws beasts. Then we die for scraps."
Tu Shun laughed. "Scraps keep you alive," he said.
Wuchen finally looked at Tu Shun. "Scraps keep you alive until someone stronger takes them," he said.
Tu Shun's smile thinned. "That's why I'm taking them first," he replied.
Wuchen nodded, as if accepting the logic. Then he lifted his hands slowly and opened his sleeves, showing empty cloth, palms turned outward.
"I don't have tusks," Wuchen said quietly. "And I don't know where Captain put them."
That part was true enough. Sun Jiao kept the tusks in his own pack, and Sun Jiao wasn't here.
Tu Shun's eyes narrowed. He stepped in and grabbed Wuchen's sleeve, yanking it up, checking for hidden bundles. His fingers pressed hard along Wuchen's forearm bandage.
Pain flared. Wuchen didn't hiss.
Tu Shun frowned at the bandage. "You got cut," he said.
Wuchen's voice stayed even. "Chased," he said.
Tu Shun's gaze sharpened. "By who?"
Wuchen answered simply. "The thin man."
Ma Qiao's eyes narrowed. Qin Sui's grip tightened.
Tu Shun's smile returned. "So he let you go," he said. "Interesting."
Wuchen didn't answer.
Tu Shun's fingers moved to Wuchen's belt knot now, tugging it loose a little, searching. His touch was rough and confident, the way men touched things they already considered theirs.
Wuchen let it happen for one breath.
Then he spoke, calm. "He wanted me to walk away from the team," he said.