The hills beyond the pass were quiet in the wrong way.
Not empty. Not peaceful. Simply aware.
Wang Lin felt it with every step, a subtle pressure that did not press down on him so much as lean in, as if the land itself were listening. The awareness brushed against his skin and slid away, leaving behind a faint echo that lingered longer than it should have.
Mei Niu noticed his slowing pace.
"You feel it too," she said quietly.
"Yes," Wang Lin replied.
Ying Yue walked a few steps ahead, her stride still confident but no longer careless. Her ears flicked constantly, tracking sounds too faint for human hearing. She did not look back when she spoke.
"This is what it feels like when rumors begin," she said. "Before words form. Before names are spoken."
They crested a low rise and stopped.
Below them, the land sloped downward into a wide basin dotted with scattered trees and broken stone. A shallow river cut through it, glinting faintly in the afternoon light. Smoke rose in thin lines from somewhere far to the east.
Settlement.
Not a town. Too small.
A crossing.
"We should avoid it," Mei Niu said.
"Yes," Ying Yue replied. "But they will not."
Wang Lin followed her gaze.
Movement stirred at the edge of his awareness, not directly behind them, not ahead. Off to the side. Paralleling their path at a distance that was deliberate.
Hunters did not move like that.
"These are scouts," Wang Lin said.
Ying Yue nodded. "Testing distance. Watching reactions."
Mei Niu's fingers brushed his sleeve, a light, unconscious touch. Through the bond, he felt the strain building in her body again. Not urgent yet, but approaching the edge where delay would cost her.
"We need to stop soon," she murmured.
"I know," Wang Lin said.
Ying Yue slowed, then stopped abruptly near a cluster of weathered stones. "If we continue moving, they follow. If we stop openly, they close in."
She turned to Wang Lin. "Can you hide us again."
Wang Lin considered it.
"I can soften us," he said. "But not erase. Not with this many eyes."
"That may be enough," Ying Yue replied.
They moved off the main path, slipping between stones and brush until they reached a shallow depression sheltered by uneven rock. Wang Lin knelt, pressing his palm to the ground, grounding himself as he had begun to learn to do.
"Stay close," he said quietly.
Mei Niu sat, back against stone, breathing slow and controlled. Ying Yue crouched nearby, muscles coiled.
Wang Lin closed his eyes.
He did not try to disappear.
He focused instead on allowing the world to pass him by.
The emptiness within him opened slightly, not inviting energy, but letting attention slide through without catching. He felt the awareness of distant watchers brush against him and continue on, unsettled but not alerted.
It was exhausting.
Sweat beaded along his spine despite the cool air. His breath remained steady, but his chest ached faintly, as if he were holding a door open against a steady wind.
Minutes passed.
The pressure shifted.
The watchers moved farther away, their attention drawn elsewhere.
Wang Lin exhaled slowly and opened his eyes.
"Not gone," Ying Yue said. "But confused."
"That is the best I can do," Wang Lin replied.
Mei Niu shifted, a faint sound escaping her before she stilled herself.
Ying Yue noticed immediately.
"You are near the edge," she said to Mei Niu.
Mei Niu nodded. "Yes."
Ying Yue's gaze flicked to Wang Lin, sharp but not accusing. "Soon."
"Yes," Wang Lin replied. "Here."
Ying Yue did not comment. She turned and scanned their surroundings, then positioned herself where she could watch both approaches.
"Do it quickly," she said. "And quietly."
The depression was not comfortable, but it was concealed enough. Wang Lin set aside his pack and moved with deliberate care, narrating nothing, asking nothing. He waited for Mei Niu to settle, for her breathing to steady, for her gaze to meet his without hesitation.
She nodded once.
This time, there was no awkwardness.
No uncertainty.
The bond responded immediately, tightening with familiar clarity. The warmth rose, deeper and steadier than before, not rushing, not demanding. Wang Lin focused on maintaining balance, on not letting the feedback surge too strongly.
Mei Niu's shoulders relaxed gradually, tension draining from her frame. Her breathing deepened, the strain easing as her body responded in kind.
Through the bond, Wang Lin felt more than sensation.
He felt relief.
Not his.
Hers.
It struck him unexpectedly, that quiet gratitude, unspoken but unmistakable. He adjusted instinctively, slowing where she needed slowness, holding steady where she needed support.
The process was smoother now. More efficient.
When it ended, Mei Niu remained still for a long moment, eyes closed, one hand resting lightly against the stone beside her.
"I am all right," she said softly.
Wang Lin withdrew immediately and leaned back, pulse steadying. His muscles trembled faintly with the effort of control.
Ying Yue glanced back at them. "Done."
"Yes," Wang Lin replied.
"Good," Ying Yue said. "Because we no longer have the luxury of invisibility."
As if summoned by her words, the air shifted again.
This time, the attention did not slide past.
It stopped.
Wang Lin felt it like a finger pressing against his awareness, testing resistance. Stronger than before. Focused.
Mei Niu stiffened.
Ying Yue rose to her feet.
"Not sect hunters," she said quietly. "Different."
Wang Lin stood slowly.
The watchers revealed themselves without hurry.
Three figures emerged from the broken terrain, their approach unhurried, their posture relaxed in a way that spoke of confidence rather than carelessness. Two were human, their robes travel worn but clean. The third walked between them, tall and broad, her horns sweeping back along her skull.
Beast kin.
Bound.
Wang Lin felt the difference immediately.
Chains.
Not visible.
But present.
The leading human inclined his head politely.
"You travel cautiously," he said. "That suggests you are either very guilty or very valuable."
"Or neither," Wang Lin replied.
The man smiled faintly. "That is rarely true."
His gaze shifted to Mei Niu, lingering a fraction too long. Something cold flickered behind his eyes.
"Spirit cow," he said. "Unmarked. Unclaimed."
Mei Niu did not flinch. She met his gaze steadily.
"Chosen," she replied.
The man's smile thinned.
"And you," he said, looking at Wang Lin. "Are the one they are whispering about."
"I doubt that," Wang Lin said.
"You should not," the man replied. "Whispers move faster than bodies."
The second human spoke then, her voice sharper. "We are not here to fight."
"Then you should leave," Ying Yue said.
The woman laughed softly. "If it were that simple, we would."
The bound beast kin shifted, her eyes dull and unfocused. When she looked at Mei Niu, something in her expression twitched, a faint echo of awareness that did not fully surface.
Wang Lin felt it.
The emptiness within him reacted, not with warmth, but with pressure.
The man noticed his stillness.
"Interesting," he said. "You do not radiate power. And yet…"
He took a step closer.
Ying Yue moved instantly, placing herself between him and Wang Lin, her posture low and dangerous.
"Careful," she said.
The man raised both hands placatingly. "No offense intended."
He stopped, then sighed softly.
"We came to talk," he said. "Before others do."
"Talk about what," Wang Lin asked.
"About protection," the man replied. "And opportunity."
Mei Niu's jaw tightened.
"You want to buy," she said.
The man smiled. "Lease," he corrected. "Temporary arrangements. Mutually beneficial."
"No," Wang Lin said.
The answer was immediate. Unconsidered.
The man blinked.
"That was quick," he said.
"Yes," Wang Lin replied.
The smile vanished.
"You should reconsider," the man said quietly. "You stand at the edge of something you do not understand."
"I understand enough," Wang Lin replied. "You want what walks with me. You want to control how it is used."
The man's eyes hardened.
"You cannot keep this up," he said. "Beasts will gather. Sects will respond. You will be crushed between them."
"Then I will choose where I stand," Wang Lin said.
Silence stretched.
The woman exhaled sharply. "You are making enemies."
"Yes," Wang Lin agreed. "But not of my own."
The man studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"Very well," he said. "We tried words."
He turned and gestured subtly.
The bound beast kin took a step forward.
The chain within her tightened.
Wang Lin felt it like a hook dragged across his awareness.
The emptiness recoiled.
Not in fear.
In rejection.
He took one step forward.
The pressure shifted.
The beast kin gasped, her posture faltering as the pull of the chain met something it could not anchor to. Her eyes cleared briefly, shock flashing across her face.
The man cursed under his breath.
"What did you do," the woman snapped.
"Nothing," Wang Lin replied honestly.
He stood there, breathing slow, refusing to pull, refusing to push. The emptiness simply existed, and the chain found nothing to grip.
The beast kin sagged to one knee, clutching her head.
Ying Yue stared, disbelief flickering across her features.
The man's expression darkened.
"This confirms it," he said quietly.
He raised a hand.
"Withdraw," he ordered.
The woman hesitated, then complied, grabbing the bound beast kin and pulling her back.
The man met Wang Lin's gaze one last time.
"You have made yourself visible," he said. "And you have no idea what you have just invited."
Wang Lin did not respond.
The three withdrew without further threat, melting back into the terrain.
Only when they were gone did Wang Lin feel the tremor in his legs.
Mei Niu reached out and steadied him.
"You are shaking," she said softly.
"Yes," Wang Lin admitted. "But not from fear."
Ying Yue let out a slow breath. "You broke a chain without touching it."
"I did not break it," Wang Lin replied. "I refused it."
She studied him with new intensity.
"That may be worse," she said.
Wang Lin looked toward the horizon, where the land stretched open and uncertain.
"Then we keep moving," he said.
"Yes," Ying Yue agreed. "Because now they know."
They gathered their packs and left the depression behind, the weight of attention following them like a shadow that no longer bothered to hide.
The road ahead was no longer quiet.
And Wang Lin understood, with a clarity that settled deep in his bones, that survival alone was no longer the question.
What mattered now was what he would allow to exist around him.
And what he would not.