CHAPTER 147: CHAPTER 147: FIRE AND TURMOIL

The night had passed without incident, and the new day brought forth another task. One which Li Wei had already risen to greet. Dawn bled softly across the mountains, painting the mist in shades of amber and rose.

He had slept in a modest tent by the river’s edge, the sort of humble shelter that reminded him of his youth among wandering cultivators. The main settlement was still a half-born dream of stone and timber, and for now, the air itself served as roof and wall.

"Time to check on Jia Lin’s progress..." he murmured to himself, fastening the clasp of his dark robe. The young master’s tone carried neither urgency nor doubt, only a mild curiosity. He had entrusted the hollow to Jia Lin, whose blade was as keen as her will, but whose patience he had always questioned.

He frowned slightly as he adjusted the jade slip at his belt. "I gave her command, yet I did not verify her work by nightfall. Strange." A faint smile curved at his lips. "Perhaps faith grows easiest when one least expects it."

Even he was surprised by his restraint. Li Wei was not one to leave matters to chance, but something about Jia Lin’s eyes the day before. They were sharp, defiant, burning with the will of a warrior who refused extinction. This had stayed his impulse to interfere.

"I suppose the time is right," he said at last, stepping out into the morning light. "Let us see what fruit diligence has borne."

The forest greeted him with whispers. Mist coiled low, weaving between the roots like pale serpents. The air was rich with the smell of wet soil and the faint metallic tang of qi. Birds or something similar to fowl, if they could be called such kept singing strange, haunting notes from unseen branches.

The shrubs thickened as he descended into the valley, each step accompanied by the crunch of frost-bitten leaves. It was said among the old masters that "The worth of a leader is weighed by the mark he leaves behind."

By that measure, Li Wei found his heart unexpectedly light. He could sense no chaos, no alarm, no discord only a steady rhythm. And soon, he saw why.

The hollow opened before him like the mouth of an ancient beast, vast and layered with terraces carved into the earth. What had once been a tangle of undergrowth was now a field of discipline and labor.

Barracks stood in orderly lines beneath the towering cedars, their roofs tiled with stone bark to blend into the terrain. Wooden platforms stretched across the ravine, linking each division with hanging bridges of vine and reinforced steel. Smoke rose from forge pits where sparks flew like fireflies.

He paused, alarmed. "What’s this? They worked through the night..."

Voices echoed through the hollow.

"Hurry up! Commander Lin expects all detachments to be ready to mobilize at any given moment!" barked a man with an eyepatch, his scarred arm glistening with sweat. "Vital that our ranks are firm before the next moonrise! Move with that purpose in mind, not noise!"

The soldiers obeyed instantly. Lines re-formed, shields clattered in unison, and the clamor of training rose into a rhythm of purpose. It was no rabble; it was a living instrument of will.

Li Wei observed quietly from the ridge. So, he mused, the girl has learned the art of command. The hawk no longer waits for permission to hunt.

Not far away, another officer—this one a woman with a comically conical haircut—was drilling a smaller unit. She barked commands in a sharp, shrill tone, yet not one of the soldiers dared to snicker. They moved in perfect synchronization, spears flashing like silver reeds swaying in the wind.

Li Wei’s faint laughter escaped into the mist. "Even folly becomes fearsome when backed by command." He walked closer, unnoticed at first, until a whisper spread through the ranks: "The young master is here."

Jia Lin appeared moments later, her armor glinting faintly beneath a coat of black fur. Her hair was tied high, her face streaked with soot and blood, but her stance was proud—unyielding. Two curved swords hung across her back like mirrored wings.

"Master Li," she greeted, bowing with her fists clasped. "Had I known you’d visit this early, I’d have polished the walls." Li Wei chuckled. "If the walls hold firm, polish is unnecessary. You have done well."

Her eyes gleamed, though she hid her satisfaction beneath dry humor. "The credit belongs to those who swing the hammers, not the one who yells at them."

"And yet," Li Wei replied, "even a hammer needs rhythm to strike true. Tell me, how fares our progress?"

Jia Lin gestured for him to follow. "Come see for yourself."

They walked through the camp. Everywhere they went, there was a practiced motions of organization, discipline. Men and women trained in squads, their formations marked by banners inked with Liu sigils.

Some worked the forges, channeling their qi into molten metal, shaping spears that shimmered faintly with runic light. Others erected ward-stones, embedding talismans into the earth that pulsed in time with the valley’s own heartbeat.

"The barracks were built to move with the terrain," Jia Lin explained. "Each foundation rests on living roots. If the ground shifts—or the spirits stir—the structures will flex instead of shatter."

Li Wei nodded approvingly. "You built like a soldier, but thought like an artisan. Good." She smiled wryly. "I learned from watching Mei Yu argue with the carpenters. She fights with ink the way I fight with steel."

"Then I chose my disciples well," he said softly. "Tell me, how are the troops?" Her expression grew thoughtful. "They’re afraid, of course. They sense the spirits lurking beyond the mists. But fear, when molded, becomes focus. I told them what my father once said to me: ’The blade that trembles still cuts if guided by purpose.’ They believe that now."

Li Wei’s gaze lingered on her. "And you? Do you still fear the tremors?"

Jia Lin met his eyes without flinching. "Every dawn. But I no longer fear the tremors."

He laughed, low and genuine. "Then you’ve surpassed even my expectations."

They stopped near the central square, it was by a clearing of packed soil surrounded by half-constructed towers. At its heart burned a great forge, its flames tinted silver from refined ley-ore. Disciples labored there, chanting old Liu verses to harmonize their qi with the molten heat.

"What will you call this place?" Li Wei asked.

"The Hollow Forge," Jia Lin replied instantly. "A place to temper both metal and men."

He considered the name and smiled. "Appropriate. The mountain may remember war, but so too will the valley remember resolve."

For a while they stood in companionable silence. The wind carried distant echoes from the other settlements as Mei Yu carpenter’s continued to strike with hammers up at the ridge, and from far beyond, the faint hum of Ning Xue’s formation spells climbing the mountain’s veins.

Three fires in balance, But even balance trembled beneath unseen weight.

A sudden gust swept through the hollow, colder than before. The torches flickered. The earth vibrated faintly, a pulse too deep to be mortal. The soldiers looked up instinctively, sensing the same eerie disturbance that had visited Mei Yu’s camp the night before.

Jia Lin drew her sword in a fluid motion. "Another foe, Master?"

Li Wei’s eyes narrowed. "No. A warning."

The tremor passed as quickly as it came, leaving behind a silence heavy with implication. From the edge of the forest, faint lights they were like wandering embers and appeared and vanished again.

Jia Lin sheathed her weapon slowly. "The spirits."

Li Wei exhaled, his breath clouding the air. "Double the night watch." He turned to her, his tone calm but firm. "Keep the forges burning, the light is both weapon and ward. The moment fear extinguishes flame, this valley will claim us."

"As you command," Jia Lin said, then added quietly, "If it comes to battle—"

"It will not," he interrupted, though his gaze drifted toward the dark horizon. "Not yet. The heavens are still listening."

He took a few steps toward the ridge, then stopped. "Jia Lin."

"Yes, Master?"

"Pride is a sword with no sheath. Wield it too long, and it will cut the hand that grips it. Remember that when you face the storm."

She bowed deeply. "Then I shall keep both hands upon the hilt."

Li Wei’s faint smile returned. "Good. Then let the Liu forge their destiny as you forge your blades." By midday, the hollow thrummed with renewed vigor. The clang of metal, the chant of unity, the fire’s ceaseless roar.

it was a test of endurance. Li Wei left them to their rhythm, returning through the forest path. As he walked, the mist parted briefly, revealing the faint glow of the three settlements once more.

"The mountain, the river, the hollow..." he murmured. "Three hearts bound by one breath. The Liu awaken." Above him, the clouds gathered in silence, forming shapes too deliberate to be mere weather like an ill omen perhaps, or the eye of something unnatural.

Li Wei felt it watching.