I was crouched in front of the kitchen sink, heaving sighs at half a potato I hadn't finished peeling. The meteorite-iron chopping board glowed faintly from its corner, looking every bit like a pet waiting to be fed, while the bronze ring in my pocket kept heating up at intervals — the system's way of reminding me that old geezer was cooking up some new scheme.

Ding! Main Quest: "Investigate the Headquarters Location of Baizhen Pavilion" — Progress: 0%

"Keep dragging your feet and they'll set up a branch office inside your refrigerator." The old man's voice jangled around in my head like a rusted alarm clock. "Weren't you just thinking yesterday about activating the 'Sunset Golden Years Intelligence Network' and asking Old Uncle Zhang downstairs for directions?"

"Sunset Golden Years Intelligence Network?" I nearly shoved the potato up my own nostril. "I'm still not sure it's a good idea — what if I end up dragging Uncle Zhang and the aunties into this mess..."

"Idiot!" The old man's holographic projection rolled its eyes above the ring, clutching a bag of shrimp crackers. "You think those old-timers at the wet market are actually there to buy groceries? The rhythm Uncle Zhang taps out with that walking stick of his matches the exact frequency Foundation Establishment cultivators use to beat out spiritual qi patterns!"

"The exact frequency Foundation Establishment cultivators use to beat out spiritual qi patterns." My jaw nearly hit the floor. "Well, I'll be darned."

My hand clenched around the potato. The peeling knife snapped in two with a sharp crack.

"Fine, I'm going to find Uncle Zhang!" I tossed the potato into the sink, tucked my Wave-Breaker blade under my arm, and bolted for the door. "But let me be clear — if the old man whacks me over the head with that stick, I'm throwing myself on the ground and demanding three catties of braised beef as compensation!"

The afternoon sun had turned the housing complex into a steamer basket. Sure enough, Uncle Zhang was playing Chinese chess at the stone table downstairs with a few other old men. His jujube-wood walking stick leaned against the stone bench, the carved dragon's head on top faintly glowing — I'd always assumed that was just years of polish building up a patina. Apparently not.

"Uncle Zhang, fancy a couple of rounds?" I pretended to be passing by and casually picked up a horse piece from the board. It was ice-cold to the touch, like a chunk of black iron ore.

Uncle Zhang didn't look up. He placed a piece down with a crack that sent the whole board shuddering. "Young Ethan, you can't beat me at chess." He glanced up at me, a sharp gleam flickering through his cloudy eyes. "Heard you were up on the rooftop again last night, 'fixing the water pipes'?"

My heart lurched. I hadn't told a single soul about using water-attribute cultivation arts to supply the rooftop water tanks for each building last night. And yet Uncle Zhang was unhurriedly pulling out a pouch of pipe tobacco and striking a match — and the flame that caught was a pale blue. The exact same colour as when I ignite fire with my spiritual qi.

"Uncle, I'd like to ask you something." I lowered my voice and pretended to study the chessboard. "Those people from Baizhen Pavilion — do you happen to know where they're hiding out?"

Uncle Zhang's tobacco-packing hand stilled. Loose tobacco scattered across half the table. He didn't answer directly. Instead, he drew a taiji diagram in the concrete with the tip of his walking stick, and where the tip passed, wisps of white vapour curled up from the ground. "Young Ethan, the way of the world is like this game of chess. Some pieces ought to move, and some pieces need to wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?" I got anxious. "Baizhen Pavilion is about to scatter Fishy-Scale Powder in my kitchen — wait any longer and I'll be fighting cockroaches for territory!"

"What's the rush?" Uncle Zhang knocked his pipe bowl against the stone table. Sparks landed on the back of my hand and, strangely, didn't sting at all — they were warm, almost comforting. "Look at this board." He pointed to a pawn sitting in the corner. "Sometimes a little pawn pushing one step forward is worth more than a chariot, a horse, and a cannon combined. But if you charge blindly without reading the full board..." He suddenly flipped my horse piece over. "You'll get taken."

I stared at the overturned horse on the board, and it suddenly struck me — every time Baizhen Pavilion came around causing trouble, Uncle Zhang and his old crew were always the first ones out the door, swinging their walking sticks more nimbly than riot batons. That time the rich woman brought reporters to make a scene, Auntie Wang had smashed the camera with her vegetable basket. Her aim was better than mine splitting a tin can with sword qi.

"Uncle, just say it straight," I steeled myself. "You already know about me, don't you..."

"Know what?" Uncle Zhang suddenly raised his voice, startling the chess-playing old man beside him so badly he nearly swallowed a piece. "Know that the fish you grill can cure old joint pain? Or know that you were doing 'cloud-seeding experiments' up on the rooftop yesterday?"

End of Chapter 19: The Sunset Golden Years Intelligence Network