Their footsteps echoed on the cobblestone streets as they exited through the gates of the Golden Crane Guild.
The afternoon air felt colder.
Wei Changfeng let out a long breath, then patted his son's shoulder.
"You see, Liang-er?" said Changfeng as he walked along the busy market. "The murim world is indeed harsh, but there are still people who value old ties. With the northern route taken over by Guild Master Zhao, we have a little breathing room to repair the other routes."
Wei Liang kept staring straight ahead.
"The tea was cold," Wei Liang said abruptly.
Changfeng's steps halted. He stared at his son with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"
"Guild Master Zhao knew you would come to beg. But he didn't tell his servants to brew fresh tea," Wei Liang turned, looking directly into his father's eyes. "And his pupils dilated when you surrendered that route voluntarily."
Changfeng went rigid.
"He isn't helping you," Wei Liang continued. "He's eating your carcass slowly without having to dirty his own hands."
Changfeng's jaw hardened. He knew his son was probably right, but his pride as head of the pack refused to admit it in front of his own teenage child.
"You're still too young to understand compromise, Liang-er. Sometimes, we have to lose one arm to stay alive." Changfeng looked away, stepping back toward the Escort Guild. "Tomorrow morning, go with Uncle Gou. Escort mission to Pine Valley. The route is only two days and straightforward. You need to see firsthand how the Escort Guild's wheels turn on the road, not just pass judgment from behind a desk."
The next day, Wei Liang began his first assignment.
The wagon wheels ground loudly over protruding tree roots.
The forest around them was beginning to dim with afternoon shadows. In the rearmost wagon, Wei Liang sat leaning against a pile of tarps covering silk and tea. He carried no sword.
Uncle Gou, a veteran guard with a scar running across his chin, spurred his horse closer to Wei Liang's wagon.
"Young Master!" Uncle Gou greeted him with a raspy laugh. "If your backside starts hurting from the wagon planks, you can borrow my horse! The road to Pine Valley always rattles bones loose!"
Several guards around them joined in the laughter.
"No need," Wei Liang answered curtly.
Uncle Gou smiled knowingly, patting his horse's saddle. "Ah, the fire of youth! Your father used to be just as stubborn as you. Don't be so tense, Young Master. This is a two-day route. The area here is safe."
"That's right, Young Master!" called out a young guard walking on the left side of the wagon. "I heard Pine Valley is harvesting grapes this month. Maybe Uncle Gou will treat us to a tavern after this cargo is delivered!"
"Dream on, boy! This month's wages aren't even certain yet—"
Uncle Gou did not finish his sentence.
Atop the pile of tarps, Wei Liang's nose twitched, catching something the ordinary soldiers had not noticed. The smell of sweat and rusted metal hidden behind wet leaves.
"Sixteen people," Wei Liang said flatly. "Hiding behind the pine trees ahead."
Uncle Gou turned with a furrowed brow. "What? Young Master, don't jok—"
Fwing! Fwing! Fwing!
Three arrows shot through the foliage. One lodged cleanly into the wagon wood. Two others struck the shoulders of the draft horse. The horse reared in panic.
"Ambush!" Uncle Gou roared, drawing his sword instantly. His face turned savage. "Form a circle! Protect the cargo!"
From behind the trees, a dozen men in tattered clothing leaped out like starving insects.
Their leader, a large man with one blind eye, swung his enormous machete.
"Abandon the wagon if you still want to see tomorrow's sunrise!" the bandit leader shouted.
"Thousand Steps never abandons cargo!" Uncle Gou shot back. "Cut them down!"
The clang of steel rang out, instantly filling the quiet forest air.
Wei Liang remained seated on his wagon. He was not afraid. He was only… irritated by how disorganized this human pack was when fighting.
The guard on the left is rotating his body too wide when he slashes, Wei Liang thought. A waste of calories. He'll run out of stamina in three minutes.
His gaze shifted to the center, where Uncle Gou was holding off two bandits at once.
Uncle Gou slashed with anger. Emotion was making his wrist stiff.
There was a half-second delay every time his sword met the bandit's blade.
"Damn it! Watch your left side, boy!" Uncle Gou shouted when he saw the young guard beginning to be pushed back. "Don't retreat!"
When Gou turned to shout at his companion, he opened a fatal gap.
A third bandit, wiry and nimble, slipped through from the blind spot. Gou did not see him at all.
His death was certain.
Wei Liang had no intention of playing hero.
But the bandit's dagger trajectory, his body posture leaning forward, and the empty space between them formed a hunting geometry that was unmistakably clear in Wei Liang's mind.
A predator never lets prey with an exposed throat pass in front of it.
He moved without deciding to move.
Wei Liang slid soundlessly off the wagon.
No burst of qi. No shout.
In the blink of an eye, his body was already behind the wiry bandit. His hand snapped the bandit's wrist from an angle impossible to anticipate.
CRACK.
The bandit's forearm bone broke. His dagger clattered to the ground.
Without wasting the momentum, Wei Liang used the staggering bandit's body as a pivot to spin himself around. His right elbow drove straight into the bandit's throat.
BAM. The bandit crumpled with eyes bulging, dead before his body hit the ground.
The two bandits in front of Uncle Gou flinched when their companion suddenly died.
Their moment of shock lasted less than one second. But to Wei Liang, one second was an eternity.
Wei Liang stepped through the empty space between them.
He kicked the outer side of the second bandit's knee until the joint folded in the wrong direction. As that bandit screamed and crumpled, Wei Liang caught the falling machete out of the air, then drew it across the third bandit's neck in one straight pull.
Blood dripped slowly from the tip of the borrowed machete in Wei Liang's hand.
Deep within his soul, a strange sensation settled — something that could not be explained, but was there.
'Is this what Humans feel when they cultivate?' he murmured.
The fighting around them stopped abruptly. The one-eyed bandit leader stared at three of his men dead within seconds.
Without issuing a command, the remaining bandits turned and fled, scattering into the forest.
Silence.
No victory shouts from the Thousand Steps guards.
Too clean. Too quiet.
And he had killed three grown men without radiating a single fluctuation of qi.
Uncle Gou swallowed with great difficulty. His legs were trembling as he turned to face Wei Liang.
"Young… Master?" Gou's voice came out hoarse.
Wei Liang did not turn, only stood staring at the bodies at his feet.
Gou stepped forward one pace, the tip of his sword unconsciously still half-raised.
A purely reflexive defensive posture.
"The way you moved just now…" Gou drew a shallow breath. "You moved like something that isn't human."
Wei Liang slowly turned, meeting Uncle Gou's gaze with eyes as cold as ice on the Seventh Heaven Peak.
"I am the same species as you."
Wei Liang walked back to the rear wagon, climbed up, and sat leaning against the pile of tarps as though nothing had happened.