Yue Jin walked in front.
His head was wrapped in clean cloth—tight, fresh, practical. No blood stained the bandage anymore, but the way it pressed against his scalp spoke to the wound beneath. Three days ago, it had split open. Now, he managed it himself—wiped it clean, rewrapped it daily, not out of comfort but control. The pain was still there, barely hidden behind his steady gait.
The tunic on his back was worn and uneven, roughly tied at the shoulder where the blade had torn him open. The edges flapped when he moved, tugged by the scab underneath. No stitches. Just stubbornness.
He walked like a man reporting back from war.
Behind him came four others—the thugs he had beaten into submission. They followed in silence. No weapons, no defiance, just bruises and the hard stare of boys who'd been given orders.
Yue Jin stopped before Yu Jin and lifted his chin.
"Assignment complete."
Yu Jin gave a nod.
"Reports."
One by one, the four stepped forward and offered what they had.
The first stammered through names of local gamblers and a smuggler who ran dice games out of a butcher's shop.
The second mentioned a warehouse where stolen grain was rumored to be stockpiled. No proof. Just whispers.
The third spoke of a crumbling gang barely holding turf near the east wall—leadership fractured, loyalty thin.
The last, broader than the others, kept his voice low.
"There's talk... up near Yan. Village past the ridge. Some big bastard out there. Real quiet. People say he's dumb as a stump but strong enough to lift an ox cart. Swear it happened. And there's been more bandits moving in lately. Bad ones."
Yu Jin didn't speak.
But in his mind, one name surfaced.
Xu Chu.
Not yet, he thought.
First the warband.
He turned his eyes back to the four.
"You're in," he said.
One opened his mouth, uncertain, but Yue Jin took one step forward. That shut him up.
"Rest today. Be here tomorrow before sunrise."
The boys scrambled off.
Yue Jin folded his arms, smug. "You see that? I told you they'd listen."
Yu Jin said nothing.
Then he stepped forward and cracked the butt of his spear across Yue Jin's back.
The younger man dropped to one knee with a yelp. "Ow—what was that for?!"
"For getting carved up by trash," Yu Jin said dryly. "I trained you myself. And you let those gutter rats put you on your ass?"
"Hey! Did you *see* them? I still won!"
"Barely."
Yue Jin grumbled, dusting himself off.
Yu Jin turned his gaze to the hills.
"This is only the beginning. We take the worst Jingpeng has to offer and turn them into something that can march in formation. We bring order to chaos. One piece at a time."
Yue Jin blinked. "So... we're taking over the town?"
Yu Jin nodded.
"And once we do, we march."
He didn't say where.
He didn't have to.
Yu Jin turned away from the horizon and walked toward the weapon rack. He grabbed a practice sword, light but solid, and tossed it toward Yue Jin.
"Now," he said, a faint challenge in his voice, "show me how much you've improved in the three days we've been apart."
Yue Jin caught the sword, smirking. "You serious? I've got combat experience now. I've always been stronger than you."
Yu Jin readied his spear, feet settling into position with calm precision.
"Then you have no excuse."
What Yue Jin didn't see—couldn't see—was the shift beneath Yu Jin's stillness.
His form was cleaner. Sharper. Every movement refined by sweat, repetition, and silent study.
As they circled one another, the system quietly pulsed in the corner of Yu Jin's vision:
[Spearmanship Mastery: 12.7%]
And rising.