The crack of the teacup shattering wasn't just a sound. It was a fracture in the pavilion's reality, a fissure through which a hatred so ancient and pure spilled out that the very air seemed to curdle. The energy in the clearing ceased to be the vibrant hum of life and became the dead silence that precedes a lightning strike.
Xiao Yue and Kenji stood frozen, not out of fear, but out of absolute astonishment. The Xiu Mei they knew—the contained anarchy, the chaos with a sly smile—had vanished. In her place was a different entity. Her three fox tails no longer swayed with feline laziness but bristled like tongues of flame, rigid with fury. A low, dangerous hiss escaped from between her clenched teeth.
"Xue Li…"
The name was spat out, a stain of venom on the pure air. Xiu Mei shot to her feet, her movement no longer that of a whimsical artist, but of a predator whose deepest wound had just been doused in salt. Her amber eyes, normally pools of mischievous curiosity, were now incandescent embers, abysses of a hatred so ancient and concentrated it seemed capable of burning down the world.
Kenji, whose brain labeled the reaction as a "critical-magnitude emotional anomaly with unpredictable escalation risk," took a step back out of pure self-preservation. He noticed the grass at Xiu Mei's feet visibly withering, not from heat, but as if life itself cowered before the power of her rancor.
"Xiu Mei?" Xiao Yue's voice was a whisper, but instead of fear, it was tinged with a deep, resonant empathy. It wasn't the question of an ally; it was that of a friend watching another at the edge of an abyss.
That simple word, that tone of genuine concern, seemed to be the only anchor that kept the kitsune from completely unleashing her fury. The rage didn't vanish, but it contracted, imploding inward to become something darker, heavier: the weight of a poisoned memory. Xiu Mei hugged herself, her tails, once bristling, now fell limp, as if crushed by the weight of her own history.
"That worm…" she hissed, her voice stripped of all its musicality, now an instrument thrown out of tune by pain. "He is the architect of my exile. The jailer of my cage."
She sat down heavily on the ground, her gaze lost in a past that was bleeding into the present.
"When I arrived in this city," she began, her voice hoarse, "I was a survivor. The last of my clan. I believed, in my innocence, that the Alchemists' Guild would welcome me. That my talent, my way of 'listening' to the ingredients, of feeling their Dao, would be celebrated." A bitter, dry, joyless laugh erupted from her throat. "How naive. To them, I was a heretic. My natural alchemy, my 'dance' with the elements, was 'peasant witchcraft' that offended their dead recipes and their dusty traditions.
"And then he appeared. Xue Li. The son of the Guild Master. A young master in silk robes with a soul the color of mud." Her face twisted into a grimace of pure disgust. "He wasn't interested in my talent. He was interested in my 'exoticism.' My face, my ears, my tails… To him, I was a trophy, a rare beast to add to his collection. He pursued me with an arrogance only those born at the top know. He offered me gifts, promised me a position in the Guild… if I agreed to be 'his.'"
Kenji remained silent, processing the new, critical information. This was not a simple case of plagiarism. It was harassment, abuse of power, and a personal vendetta. A much more volatile variable.
"I refused him," Xiu Mei continued, her fists clenched on her knees. "Not once, but dozens of times. The last time was in public, in front of his sycophants. I humiliated his pride. I told him I would rather distill potions with sewer water than allow his filthy merchant hands to touch a single one of my creations. I told him his alchemy had no soul." Her eyes met Xiao Yue's, and in them was a universe of shared pain. "And he, like all small men with too much power, couldn't handle rejection. If he couldn't have me, he would make sure to destroy me.
"Two days later, I was accused of stealing secret formulas from the Guild. Formulas I could have improved myself with my eyes closed. It was a crude lie, but he was the Guild Master's son. His word against that of a 'savage, clanless kitsune.' The outcome was predetermined. I proved my innocence, demonstrated that my methods had nothing to do with their rigid formulas, but it didn't matter. The stain was already there. They blacklisted me. No honorable merchant, no alchemy shop, would ever deal with me again. They made me an outcast."
The fury on her face crumbled, and for the first time, Kenji saw something his system did not know how to categorize: a single tear traced a clean path down her dirt-streaked cheek. Her voice broke.
"That man didn't steal a formula from me, Golem! He stole my name, my future, my right to exist in the light of day!"
The choked sob, the trembling of her shoulders, the raw vulnerability of the indomitable genius… it was a stream of data that short-circuited Kenji's brain. His mind, for an instant, stopped analyzing. Instead, it projected a memory, a sensation: the cold of his own minimalist room, the loneliness of his collapse, and then… the warmth of Xiao Yue's shoulder, an unexpected lifeline in his own storm of weakness.
He saw Xiu Mei's pain not as a problem to be solved, but as an echo of his own. And the response his system chose didn't come from any management manual. It came from that new, bewildering experience.
Kenji moved. The gesture was stiff, almost robotic, as if his limbs were executing a new, unverified protocol. He approached the trembling kitsune, knelt beside her, and with an almost painful awkwardness, wrapped his arms around her.
It was the most inefficient hug in history. There was no warmth, no softness. It was the hug of a wooden golem trying to comfort a flame.
Xiu Mei froze, so surprised by the contact that her sob caught in her throat.
"Your emotional distress is a logical response to a systemic injustice," Kenji said, his voice a monotone murmur right next to her ear. His words were cold, but the gesture was… something else. "Allowing the adversary's system to degrade your operational morale is an unacceptable outcome. The primary objective of our project, from this moment on, is the rectification of this fundamental market error. His humiliation will not be a secondary objective. It will be a priority KPI."
Xiao Yue watched the scene, her heart aching. She didn't feel jealousy. She felt a wave of pride so overwhelming it almost made her cry, too. The Golem, her Golem, was learning. He was trying, in his own logical, bizarre way, to mend a broken heart. With a trembling smile, she drew near and hugged them both, creating a small, strange circle of support. A brain, a heart, and a wild soul, united against the world.
The hug lasted only a few seconds, but when they separated, something had changed forever. Xiu Mei wiped her face with the back of her hand, and though her eyes were still red, the desperation had been replaced by an icy determination.
"Alright, Golem," she said, her voice hoarse but firm. "I like your KPI. What's the plan to make that worm eat his words along with his teeth?"
"The plan has been re-evaluated," Kenji announced, standing up and returning to his role as strategist, though there was a new resonance in his voice now. "A direct attack is inefficient. Public humiliation is an asset with a greater long-term return on investment. The Annual Sect Tournament is in two months. That is our stage."
He unrolled a scroll, and his logic, now fueled by a new emotional directive, flowed, clear and lethal.
"We will not attack Zian or Xue Li directly. We will attack their product. Their reputation. We will demonstrate, publicly and undeniably, that the Guild's alchemy, their source of pride and power, is inferior."
"And how?" Xiu Mei asked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"With you," Kenji said, looking at her intently. "You will become the exclusive supplier for Project Phoenix. You will create the most potent, purest cultivation pills this clan has ever seen. We will use Xiao Yue as our… case study. Her advancement will not be gradual. It will be an explosion, an alchemical miracle that everyone will see but no one will be able to explain."
He turned to Xiao Yue.
"At the tournament, you won't just defeat a disciple from the Jade Ring. Challenge Zian. And when you defeat him in front of the entire clan, it won't just be a martial victory. It will be living proof that the alchemy of an 'exiled heretic' is superior to that of the prestigious Guild. The blow to Xue Li's reputation will be devastating. His alliance with Zian, based on profit and power, will fracture from the humiliation. Zian will lose his financial partner and his face before the Elders. We will leave him isolated, weakened… ready for the final blow."
The plan was bold, elegant, and cruel. It wasn't a battle; it was a hostile marketing campaign designed to bankrupt the competition.
Xiu Mei let out a laugh, one of pure, wild, predatory joy.
"Golem, you're a monster! A marvelous monster! Making my art the hammer that crushes that worm! It's poetry! It's the perfect symphony! Count me in!"
The pact was sealed. Xiu Mei's personal revenge had become the engine of Kenji's new and improved master plan.
At the end of the day, after Xiu Mei had left for her new pavilion, Xiao Yue and Kenji were left alone in the courtyard under a sky tinged with orange and violet. The Matriarch had assigned it to her to "optimize the R&D team's synergy," according to Kenji's report.
The silence between them was no longer that of a consultant and his asset, but a comfortable one, filled with a tacit understanding.
"I'm so proud of you today, Kenji," Xiao Yue said softly.
He turned to look at her, his face a silent question.
"What you did for Xiu Mei," she continued. "It was… a very efficient protocol for repairing a damaged system." The smile in her voice was as warm as the sunset. "It proves our CEO doesn't just have a brain; he's starting to install the heart's software."
Kenji didn't know what to say. The logic of his action had been clear, but the warmth he felt seeing the gratitude in Xiu Mei's eyes, and now the pride in Xiao Yue's, was data he still couldn't quantify.
"All good things are rewarded," Xiao Yue whispered.
She glanced around quickly, making sure the courtyard was deserted, that there were no curious maidens or prying guards. The sun was setting, and the shadows were growing long, giving them perfect cover.
Then, before Kenji's brain could even begin to analyze the probability of the next action, she moved. She stood on her toes, closed the distance between them in an instant, and gently pressed her lips against his cheek.
It was an ephemeral contact, lasting barely a second. Soft, warm, and carrying the unmistakable scent of jasmine and power.
"That's your reward," she whispered, and then pulled away, her cheeks flushed with a blush that rivaled the color of her hair.
Kenji stood motionless, petrified. His hand rose slowly to touch the cheek where her lips had been. His skin burned, but it wasn't the heat of Qi. It was something else entirely.
His mind, the supercomputer capable of managing empires, had just encountered a data stream for which it had absolutely no protocol, no flowchart, no manual.
Analysis failed.
For the first time in his two lives, Kenji Tanaka faced a variable that could not be processed. The sensation, overwhelming, baffling, and strangely pleasant, was that of a complete and total short circuit. The Golem had received an update for which he was not prepared.