I Should Be Dead

Li Wei doesn't stop or slow down, ignoring the usual chatter and hustle around him. As he moves through the corridors, he avoids eye contact with other disciples, keen on returning to his cave as quickly as possible. The corridors of the pill hall are busy, but he navigates through them with practised ease, weaving around groups of chatting disciples and moving past busy areas without pause. 

Li Wei exits the pill hall, stepping onto the path back to his cave. He walks determinedly, his footsteps echoing slightly against the stone pathway. The path winds through the sect's grounds, familiar yet seeming different to Li Wei's current state of focus. As he walks, the noise of the sect fades, his attention solely on reaching his destination.

He reaches for his robe, hands shaking slightly, and tears a long strip. The cloth comes away with a muted ripping sound, the fibres giving way under stress. 

He folds the fabric carefully into a makeshift bandage, wrapping it around his head, securing it under his chin, and pressing it gently against the wound where his ear once was.

The pressure sends a fresh wave of pain coursing through him, but he clenches his jaw and bears it. He must stop the bleeding; he knows that much with a clarity that cuts through the fog of pain enveloping his thoughts.

The air is cool, the stone beneath his feet a constant reminder of the mountains that encase the sect's halls and chambers. It is a fortress, a sanctuary, a prison - it is many things to those who walk its paths.

Li Wei walks past other disciples, aware of their glances towards his bandaged ear. He feels their eyes on him like wolves eyeing an injured deer. Each look intensifies his sense of vulnerability. He moves cautiously, keeping his head down, hoping to avoid drawing more attention. The bandage marks him as weakened. 

"What the fuck is going on," he whispers to himself, a solitary sound in the quiet. His voice doesn't rise above a murmur, but the words feel heavy in his mouth, weighted with a mixture of fear and confusion. 

"I should be dead," he continues, each word measured, spaced as though he's setting down stones to cross a stream. 

"Senior Huo knew from the start," he realises, the pieces of the past events assembling in his mind with a clarity that comes too late. The recognition of his naivety sits uncomfortably within him.

Li Wei's mind is still back in the room with Senior Huo, replaying the encounter. "Thankfully, he needed another piss boy to run an errand," he muses, the words tasting bitter. 

"Otherwise, I'd be dead," he says, the finality of the statement hanging in the air. 

He continues his journey back to his cave, his thoughts swirling with questions and doubts. 

"Why would Senior Huo need an outer disciple dead?" Li Wei questions himself, a mix of confusion and concern in his tone. "He's more than capable of it himself without a second thought. What did the poor bastard do to piss off an inner disciple?" 

"Is this a test of obedience for me? Did the disciple commit a slight greater than mine?" The uncertainty of the situation weighs heavily on him, each question leading to deeper contemplation of the task at hand.

Li Wei enters his cave, the familiar darkness greeting him like an old friend. The quiet of the space is broken only by the sound of his footsteps as he moves with purpose towards the remains of his fire. 

He kneels down, the cold of the cave floor seeping through his clothes, but he pays it no mind. From within the folds of his robe, he produces the ember of Bone Fire, a precious item of power in his hand. 

Carefully, he places the ember at the centre of the fire pit, a small depression in the ground that has seen countless fires before. His hands move to gather sticks, small dry pieces that he collected and stored within his cave for such a purpose. He adds them to the ember, arranging them precisely to foster the flames.

The ember catches the sticks, and a small white fire soon grows. Its light is a gentle glow, a soft illumination in the cave's darkness. Li Wei watches it momentarily, ensuring it has taken hold before he begins his night's vigil.

Li Wei's thoughts are dark and vengeful. "Senior Huo, you bastard, think you can just butcher me and walk away?" he seethes inwardly. "I'll show you." 

"I'll make sure to repay this tenfold," Li Wei says. 

He tends to the fire throughout the night, adding sticks to maintain its life. The task is constant: reaching for more kindling, placing it carefully, and watching the flames consume it. He cannot let the fire die; it is too valuable.

"I'll burn the bones in regular fire to make them brittle, then crush them with a mortar and pestle tomorrow," he says, the words a commitment set in the stillness of the cave.

"Who knows the consequences of using solid bone? The system stated the use of bone ash, so it would be unwise to deviate," 

The fire crackles, a soft sound in the quiet, and Li Wei continues his watch. Outside, the world is a shroud of darkness, but the cave has light, warmth, and life.

Li Wei rummages through the coin pouch, revealing the contents. Inside, he finds four gold coins and a collection of silvers, a significant amount given to him by Senior Huo for the task. The gold coins, in particular, stand out. He has never seen one before. 

Li Wei's focus remains unbroken as the dim contours of dawn begin to seep through the cave entrance. The fire, now a living entity under his constant care, demands more fuel. He obliges, feeding it sticks that crackle and pop as they are consumed by the hungry flames.

After ensuring the Bone Fire is stable, he turns to another task. He needs a regular fire that burns hot enough for his immediate needs. He gathers more sticks and larger pieces of wood, building a separate pyre. He strikes flint to steel, and soon another fire springs to life, its flames more aggressive, eager to devour the wood he offers.

Once satisfied with its size and heat, Li Wei moved to the back of his cave, where the air was cooler and the ground was covered with moss. Here. He digs with his hands, the moisture cool and damp against his skin, until his fingers find the coarse texture of the sack.

He pulls it out, the weight of it solid and reassuring in his grasp. Inside are the bones. He carries the sack to the new fire and individually places the bones into the flames. They are enveloped immediately, the fire hungrily licking around their pale surfaces.

The heat from the fire intensified, and Li Wei watched as the bones began to change. The fierce temperature works into them, altering their structure, making them brittle and more amenable to what he has planned. The process is not rushed; it cannot be. 

"Only by turning bone into ash, into power, will I feel confident putting it in the bone fire."

Li Wei spends the morning tending to the ever-present Bone Fire, a beacon of his ambition, and the regular fire, a tool for his immediate goal. He rotates the bones occasionally, ensuring an even exposure to the flames, watching as they take on a charred appearance, the sign that they are ready for the next step.

The morning progresses, and the regular fire does its work. When Li Wei deems the time is right, he carefully extracts the bones from the fire. They are hot, their surfaces blackened and altered by the heat. He sets them aside to cool, knowing that when they are ready, he will grind them down when he acquires a mortar and pestle.

For now, he waits. Li Wei sits in contemplation, the bones beside him. The work is far from done, but he is prepared, and the path ahead is clear. 

In the calm of early morning, Li Wei steps out of his cave. The world outside is quiet, the sect slowly stirring to life as the first hints of dawn paint the sky. 

"Going to the pill hall now would be a mistake," Li Wei thinks to himself, wincing from the pain. "Senior Huo should understand I need time to heal. If I show up like this, in so much pain, I might slip up and say something wrong. I can't afford any more mistakes. Better to lay low, heal first." His thoughts are a mix of caution and strategy, weighing the risks of appearing weak versus the danger of drawing more attention to himself in his vulnerable state.

"That dickhead will have to survive without a servant for a day," he muses, believing the elder should understand, given his condition. His main focus is to heal and avoid exacerbating an already dangerous situation.