Zhen landed soundlessly atop the slanted roof, the tiles warm beneath his feet. The residual heat from the day radiated against his soles, grounding him, a stark contrast to the chill slithering up his spine.

  The qi flowed as his senses heightened and his sharp eyes swept across the town below, quickly locking onto the growing commotion along the northwest road—raised voices, and hurried footsteps creating a chaotic noise.

  On the south road, a shadow darted jumped across the rooftops, pursued by a single guard, but the figure ahead moved with practiced ease. Zhen narrowed his eyes. Even with the change of clothes, the gait and slight tilt of the shoulders gave Xu Mian away.

  But Xu Mian wasn’t the priority.

  Zhen exhaled, refocusing. He turned toward the northwest, and a flick of his foot sent him gliding across the rooftops, crossing two streets within minutes. Then he saw it.

  His breath caught.

  A body sprawled in the street below, severed at the waist, blood pooling in a grotesque halo around the remnants of a worker’s uniform—the Cui Hua shop’s emblem barely visible on the sleeve. Another death. A chill spread through Zhen’s chest. Are they killing everyone?

  He landed lightly in the alley below, knees bending to absorb the impact. The thick, iron tang of blood clung to the air, thick enough to taste. Another body slumped against a crumbling wall, head twisted at an unnatural angle, mouth frozen mid-scream. Gods… They’re really killing everyone.

  Zhen’s fingers twitched at his sides.

  Shutters creaked as fearful eyes peeked from the safety of their homes. They’re all terrified. And they have every right to be.

  He followed the blood trail deeper, the street narrowing into a lifeless passageway. Then—nothing. The bodies stopped, the crimson tracks vanishing as if devoured by the darkness.

  Gone. No more signs. No more clues.

  His frown deepened. Not natural. A clean extraction. He slipped a talisman from his sleeve, feeling the delicate parchment between his fingers. A sliver of qi pulsed into the sigils, and they shimmered faintly before jerking toward the west. His stomach twisted.

  Abyssal Harmony Sect.

  Had they finished their work? Are they already retreating? How many more had they silenced before vanishing?

  His jaw clenched. With no time to waste, he moved. Through winding paths with careful steps, he followed the road leading out of the town while keeping an eye on any observer left in the area.

  Past the town gates, he stopped, scanning the main road ahead. He pulled out the mother talisman, channeling his qi. The sigils glowed before directing toward the trees.

  They’ve taken a route through the forest—less visible, harder to track. A safe retreat for those who didn’t want to be followed.

  Zhen exhaled through his nose and pressed forward. The dense canopy above cast shifting shadows over the underbrush, swallowing the last remnants of daylight. Every snapped twig beneath his feet made him wince. Suppressing his presence as much as he could, he wove through the trees, cursing under his breath.

  Move with your heel first, then the outer edge of your foot, he reminded himself. His earlier days as a Boy Scout flashed through his mind, but most of those memories felt clumsy, amateurish. He had never mastered the art of true silence. If only I had properly learned stealth techniques. That would change. As soon as he made it through tonight, improving his stealth would be a top priority.

  Still, luck was with him tonight.

  Seven hours. Three changes in direction. At some point, day had slipped fully into night. The cool air carried the distant hoots of owls and the rustling of unseen creatures.

  But finally—

  A small camp, well-hidden between thick trunks. A modest fire flickered at the center, casting a dim, wavering glow over the clearing.

  Zhen sank low, breath steady, heart hammering. He counted the figures.

  Two men sat nearby, their voices low but clear in the quiet night. The air around them crackled with restrained pressure—one at the sixth stage of Qi Condensation, the other at the eighth.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The stronger cultivator looked mature, though without any defining features. His face was the kind that blended into a crowd, forgettable in every way. His dark robes were plain, practical, and gave away nothing about his origins or affiliations.

  Shadow boy, however, had a different air about him. He had sharp, angular features, dark eyes that seemed to glare at everything, and a permanent scowl on his lips. His clothing was a bit more styled—dark layers, jagged patterns embroidered in red thread, and silver rings on his fingers. There was an edge to him, a deliberate harshness.

  He looks like one of those goth-style punks, Zhen thought dryly, resisting the urge to shake his head. Maybe I should call him Shadow-boy.

  Zhen held his breath and listened.

  “How long are we supposed to stay here?” The weaker one grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick.

  The older man scoffed. “What do you know, fool? We can’t move too soon. Have to stay low.”

  “Tch.” Shadow-boy spat into the dirt, his scowl deepening as he looked sideways at the captive. “Does she really have that much value?”

  A girl in grey robes sprawled near the fire, arms bound behind her back. Her short hair was messy, her face smudged with dirt, but her gaze was sharp. Unyielding. Ning Xue.

  Zhen exhaled slowly through his nose. So they had taken her after all.

  A pause. Then, a quiet chuckle—dark, knowing. “You idiot. She has innate water spirit roots. Do you have any idea what that’s worth?”

  Shadow-boy frowned. “How do you know that, Brother Luo? No one told me we were transporting that type of goods. We could've charged extra.”

  That Brother Luo smirked. “I heard it when Elder Bai was scolding his useless son for failing to recruit her. Turns out he had a big mouth but couldn't fool a little girl.”

  Shadow-boy scoffed, lips curling. “That bastard Bai Shu? He always acts like he’s above us just because he has an elder as a father. But when it comes down to it, he’s got no real skill. Just runs his mouth like he’s some master strategist.” He shook his head. “Honestly, serves him right to be humiliated by a brat. I bet he tried to bribe her first, then throw around his family name when that didn’t work. Must have been hilarious to watch her shut him down.”

  Brother Luo chuckled, clearly entertained. “Oh, you should’ve seen Elder Bai’s face when he found out. Red as a cooked crab. I hear he nearly disowned the fool on the spot.”

  “Hah! No way! Is that true?” Shadow-boy leaned in, eager for more gossip. “Come on, what else? I know you hear things, Luo. Spill it.”

  Brother Luo tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Well… let’s just say this isn’t the first time that son of his has made a mess of things. There was that incident last year with the missing sect funds—Elder Bai had to cover it up before the higher-ups noticed. And remember the traveling merchant? The one who vanished after a 'friendly meeting' with him?”

  Shadow-boy paled. “Wait, wait, wait.” He suddenly straightened, holding up both hands. “The hell you’re sharing these secrets so casually. I don’t want to know them. People who know too much tend to disappear.”

  “We’re in this together. If we watch each other’s backs, we’ll survive this.”

  Shadow-boy’s expression darkened, and with a sharp breath, his qi flared, a ripple of energy disturbing the air around him as he shot to his feet. His fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. “The hell are you doing, Brother Luo? Sharing this much? If you wanted cooperation, you should’ve just said so instead of running your mouth!” His voice was low, edged with barely restrained fury. “Now, if anything goes wrong, I’ll be dragged into this mess with you!”

  Brother Luo raised both hands, his tone even. “Calm down. Losing control won’t help us. Think. If we play this right, we walk away unscathed.” His eyes flicked to the girl bound near the fire. “But if you keep acting on impulse, you’ll get yourself killed first.”

  "Bastard!" Shadow-boy took a deep breath, shoulders still tense, but he slowly lowered himself back down, though the fire in his eyes did not fade.

  A pause. Then, a slow curling smirk spread across the shadow boy’s face. “Hah! If that’s the case, maybe we should take advantage of it ourselves. It’d be a waste not to, wouldn’t it?”

  Brother Luo’s gaze flickered, considering—then darkened. “Don’t let your filthy thoughts get ahead of you. We’re to keep her until the handoff—nothing more.”

  Shadow boy let out a low chuckle, leaning forward, eyes gleaming with something unsavory. “Even if we can’t take her purity, there are... other ways to enjoy a beauty.”

  Thump! A sharp crack rang out. Shadow-boy jerked back, cradling his head where the strike had landed.

  Brother Luo's palm hovered in the air, his eyes gleaming with irritation. "Don't spout nonsense."

  He blinked, stunned. “Huh, boss... we have to wait for two days before the rendezvous. Are you sure you don’t want to take small advantages?”

  Brother Luo's jaw clenched. “Keep your disgusting mouth shut, or I’ll break your legs.”

  Tension lingered between them before shadow-boy grunted and turned away, rubbing his head where he had been struck.

  A slight shift. The ropes that held her wrists scraped against one another, the sound barely audible, but enough to draw attention.

  Both men turned.

  Shadow boy sneered. “Feisty thing, aren’t you? You need a little help?” he added, his tone mockingly sweet.

  The older man scoffed, eyes narrowing. “And what? Do you want to help her?”

  Shadow-boy’s gaze flickered across her face. He clicked his tongue, then spat to the side. “Tch. Why is this girl so plain? Don’t Water Spirit Roots girls have flawless faces and… bountiful figures?” His nose wrinkled in disappointment. “Damn. My appetite’s gone.”

  Instead, a dry chuckle escaped Brother Luo. He grabbed a bowl and shoved it toward her without care. “Eat.”

  Ning Xue lifted her chin, eyes glinting like ice under the moonlight. She didn’t move.

  A muscle ticked in Brother Luo's jaw. “Suit yourself. Starve, then.”