Deep beneath the Crimson Vault Mountains, a secret council gathered in a candlelit chamber known only as the Pale Fang Circle. They were cultivators of darkness, masters of poison, illusion, and misinformation.
Their mission?Eliminate Wei Long.Before he "accidentally" dismantled another sect.
"According to our intelligence," whispered Shade One, "he commands beasts."
"His stare silences thunder," added Shade Two.
"...And he defeated the Five Venoms Sect using bread," muttered Shade Three, still not entirely convinced.
Their leader slammed a hand on the table. "Enough. No more stories. We'll test him ourselves. The 'Silent Raven' team will infiltrate his sect and strike when he is alone."
"Won't that end in disaster like last time?" someone muttered.
"Silence! This time… we send our finest."
That same evening on Mount Whatever-It's-Now-Called (the name changed weekly depending on Wei Long's latest "feat"), peace reigned.
Wei Long was asleep under a peach tree, drooling slightly, dreaming of a world where no one knew his name and all teacups came pre-filled.
The goats were grazing. The disciples were arguing about whether clouds had spiritual shapes. Duan Fei was painting the words "Patience is a Goat's Virtue" on a rock.
And the assassins had arrived.
Dressed in flowing black, masked, armed with needles, daggers, and a scroll titled "Contingency Plans When Facing Divine Beasts."
They crept silently into the courtyard… and immediately triggered the Chicken Alarm Formation.
"BWAAAAAK!"
Feathers exploded. One assassin screamed and ducked. Another tripped over a broom.
Inside the bamboo kitchen, Lin Qian stirred. "Master must be cultivating again…"
The assassins barely escaped the hens before reaching Wei Long.
He sat up, groggy, rubbing his eyes. "Is it breakfast?"
"...He's unguarded!" hissed one.
"Strike now!"
The lead assassin lunged with a poisoned needle—only for Wei Long to yawn, stretch, and accidentally headbutt him in the chin. The man flew backward into a tree and passed out instantly.
Two more attacked.
Wei Long bent to pick up a bun he'd dropped—causing one assassin to miss and fall into the koi pond. The other tried to adjust mid-air and impaled himself on a rake.
"Ugh… is it Monday?" Wei Long muttered.
The last assassin hesitated. She'd been trained in stealth since birth. She could kill a man with a breath. But this... this wasn't right.
Wei Long stood up fully, still sleepy-eyed, and looked directly at her.
"Why are you dressed like a stage magician?"
She froze. "...It is traditional attire."
"Did you bring snacks?"
She blinked. "What?"
"I'd kill for fried tofu right now."
Then a goat rammed into her from the side.
The courtyard went silent again.
Wei Long yawned. "Guess I'll have fruit."
Later that day, the remaining assassin—bound in vines and sitting in front of Lin Qian—confessed everything.
"The Pale Fang Circle," she sobbed. "They sent us… They think he's some… god! Or monster! Or worse—a genius!"
Lin Qian gasped. "So Master's enemies are moving again."
Wei Long sipped tea from a bowl. "I'm not anyone's enemy. I'm barely my own friend."
Duan Fei bowed. "Still, Master, they fear your power. That alone proves your greatness."
Wei Long looked at the unconscious assassins tied to trees, one of whom was being gently nibbled by a baby goat.
He sighed.
"…Let's build a fence."
Far away, the Pale Fang Circle sat in stunned silence as reports arrived.
"Defeated all five."
"Injured their pride, their bodies, and one man's kneecap."
"Woke up mid-fight, possibly insulted our fashion choices."
The leader stood slowly. "We… need to reevaluate. Possibly change names. Perhaps… open a tea shop."
And thus, another dark force began to unravel — not with a fight, but with confusion, poultry, and accidental headbutts.
To be continued…