"Tch. Leave it to luck, is that it? So what you're saying is, if I can't find the top-grade spirit eye, that's just my bad luck, and it has nothing to do with you?" Meng Jueming gave a cold laugh, his face twisting into a snarl. "How unfortunate, Young Hero Lin. Your little clever tricks are useless before me. Allow me to give you a piece of bad news: you must find the top-grade spirit eye before this day is out, otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?" Wei Zhao asked, his expression placid.

"Then you have only your own bad luck to blame. At that point I'll have every reason to conclude that the top-grade spirit eye was a lie you invented to make a fool of me—and the consequences of that will be very grave indeed. What do you say to that, Young Hero Lin?" Meng Jueming bared his teeth in a vicious grin, a naked threat.

In this much, at least, Meng Jueming had his wits about him. Before he saw any actual result, if Wei Zhao imagined he could bluff his way through with a few hastily contrived lies, he was badly mistaken.

In a matter like this, no hawk flies until the rabbit shows. That was the logic, and the resolve, befitting a clever man.

"Fine." Wei Zhao fixed Meng Jueming with a deep look, then stopped his mining, set his hand against the stone wall, and began pouring his true qi into it in an unbroken stream.

At the sight, Meng Jueming's confidence rose a notch; that gesture tallied neatly with the method Wei Zhao had described—using true qi to probe for the top-grade spirit eye.

Still, clumsy as this approach was, he could tell at a glance how grueling it must be. Thank heaven for Wei Zhao, this free laborer of his. Meng Jueming privately reckoned that if he had to take the field himself, never mind whether he could actually locate the top-grade spirit eye—at the very least, he would certainly burn through his entire reserve of true qi.

Unlike Wei Zhao, he could not replenish his true qi at will. Once spent, who knew how many days of bitter cultivation it would take to restore it. The mere thought of it was enough to make a man miserable.

Wei Zhao's hand remained pressed to the stone wall for a long while, and still nothing stirred. Meng Jueming's brow knitted. "Hey, I'm asking you—can you actually do this or not? Don't think you can fool me by putting on a show. If you don't find the top-grade spirit eye, I guarantee you'll die a very ugly death."

Wei Zhao turned his head, glanced at him, and said coolly, "The top-grade spirit eye has a very distinct spirit qi density, but its range is tiny and it shifts with great speed. Even I cannot find one all at once. If you cannot muster even this much patience, you may as well give up now."

With that, Wei Zhao turned, moved to another spot, and resumed what he had been doing.

"Tch. You certainly have a fine line of patter. But never mind—hot tofu won't be eaten in a hurry. I'll give you half a day, no more. If you haven't found the top-grade spirit eye before quitting time today, then look forward to your ugly death." Meng Jueming flashed a savage grin and said no more, simply standing behind Wei Zhao and watching him in cold silence.

Hearing this, Wei Zhao laughed to himself with a private curl of the lip. So you're still counting on making it to quitting time? Rest easy—you won't live that long!

From a distance, the two guards watched the strange doings of Wei Zhao and Meng Jueming, exchanging looks of bewilderment. Coming to a place like this and not mining, but instead groping about all over the stone wall—what on earth was going on?

Had anyone else been slacking off like this, the two guards would long since have marched over and barked at them to get to work. This time, though, they chose to look the other way. Meng Jueming, after all, had always gotten along famously around the Spirit Jade Hall, and they were merely ordinary guards—no need to offend the man over so trivial a matter and invite trouble for themselves.

Besides, Wei Zhao had toiled here for over three months and was on good terms with them both; naturally they would not go out of their way to give him grief.

So the two guards turned a blind eye, and Wei Zhao and Meng Jueming were only too glad of it. As far as those two were concerned, it was best of all that the guards had the good sense not to interfere.

Time trickled away. Fully three hours past the noon hour, the sky outside was darkening, and the hour of quitting drew nearer and nearer. By now Wei Zhao had made his way around nearly the whole of Mine No. 10.

The spots where he had paused numbered more than twenty—twenty-two, to be exact.

"Hey, I feel obliged to remind you: quitting time is coming up soon. Personally I'm none too fond of this outcome either, but the way it looks, the two of us were plainly never fated to work well together. Such is Heaven's will." Meng Jueming's face was a study in impatience; after stewing all afternoon, his store of patience was thoroughly spent.

Wei Zhao silently kept his hand against the stone wall, still pouring in true qi. This was the twenty-third spot—and the last on his plan.

"To be honest, a newcomer as outstanding as you—practically a legend—I'd originally meant to use this chance to forge a fine partnership with you from here on. What a shame." Meng Jueming suddenly heaved a sigh.

Those words were indeed sincere. After all, he was about to be promoted to Third Pavilion Master, and he did not have a single capable subordinate to his name. Were word of that to get out, it would be far too shabby a state of affairs.

Meng Tong, true, had been utterly transformed after taking the Midnight Heart-Splitting Pill, and compared with the good-for-nothing he once was, he did seem marginally more reliable—but alas, he was still far from Wei Zhao's match, and now he had been beaten half to death and lay bedridden.

As for Murong Zhen, she was certainly far more dependable than Meng Tong—but the woman was deep and calculating, and even in bed she was not of one heart with him, Meng Jueming. She was a venomous snake, for all he knew ready to bare her hideous fangs at any moment.

Neither of them could he truly rely upon. Now, with this golden opportunity before him, if he could subdue Wei Zhao and make him his own, it would be more ideal than he could have wished.

The man's strength far exceeded those two others, and with a lethal hold over him, there was no need to worry about his loyalty either. He was practically a puppet enforcer tailor-made for Meng Jueming—and the stronger Wei Zhao grew, the happier it made him.

What a pity, then, that compared with a puppet subordinate, Meng Jueming cared far more about the spirit jade. If Wei Zhao would not honestly surrender the secret of how to swiftly turn waste jade into fine jade, then he would simply have to resign himself to striking the man dead.

At that, Wei Zhao withdrew his hand. Everything was in readiness. He smiled a teasing smile. "Is that so? Then what a great pity. Had you said so earlier, there might have been the faintest shred of a chance for you to save your miserable little life."

"What?" Meng Jueming was struck dumb, and from that inexplicable remark of Wei Zhao's he sensed a thread of uncommon danger.

It was as though he had unwittingly fallen into a vast web, hands and feet bound fast, struggling in vain for life or death, while the spider that feeds on the chosen was gradually emerging from the shadows, revealing its hideous, savage form. R1152

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