When Chen Wuya opened his eyes, dawn had not yet broken.
The room was pitch-black, with only a thread of gray-white light filtering through the crack in the window. He did not move, and his breathing remained steady, as though he were still asleep. But his fingers had already silently hooked around the edge of the straw mat, while Misaligned Force slowly circulated within him, rising from Yongquan at the soles of his feet all the way to Jianjing, ready to explode at any moment.
He knew that night would not pass so simply.
The lamp in the west room had gone out not long ago, but he had heard that door open twice. Once in the dead of night, and once just half an hour ago. The footsteps were light, yet they carried murderous intent as they approached.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
A barely audible scraping came from outside the door, like a sword sheath brushing against the frame. Immediately afterward, the light beneath the door was blocked for an instant.
They were here.
The door was pushed open a crack, and two figures slipped inside. One carried a sword; the other was empty-handed. Their movements were perfectly coordinated, and they landed without a sound. They went straight for the table— the imitation fragment was still quietly waiting beneath the stone.
The swordsman reached out to take it.
Chen Wuya moved.
He did not get up. Instead, he suddenly kicked off the bedboard, sending his entire body surging up like a wave cresting. He slid diagonally with a Misstep, cutting between the two men in an instant. He raised his left palm skyward, and Misaligned Force burst from Laogong Acupoint, slamming straight into the roof beam.
Dust and broken straw came crashing down, covering both men from head to toe.
The empty-handed man instinctively raised an arm to shield his face. Chen Wuya's right foot had already swept out, kicking over the water bucket left from the previous night. Water splashed everywhere, making the floor as slick as oil.
The swordsman gave an angry shout and swung his sword in a horizontal slash, its cold gleam sweeping toward Chen Wuya's throat.
Chen Wuya advanced instead of retreating. He turned sideways and ducked, actually slipping beneath the blade. Using the momentum, he drove his shoulder into the man's chest. The man's feet skidded, and he staggered backward, stepping into a puddle before falling with a splash.
The other man reacted swiftly. He shook the debris from his face and lunged forward.
Chen Wuya had been prepared. His right hand shot out and snatched up a broken piece of firewood from the ground. With a twist using the Universe Reversal Step and Misalignment, his body spun away like a windmill, avoiding the head-on charge. Then, with his backhand, he smashed the stick viciously into the other man's knee.
There was a dull crack. The man's knee buckled, and he dropped to the ground.
Misaligned Force poured in after it, rushing upward through the meridians in his leg. In an instant, it numbed his entire right leg. Before he could finish screaming, Chen Wuya had closed in and struck him in Shanzhong Acupoint with one palm.
The man's eyes rolled back, and he toppled onto his back, unconscious.
The swordsman who had fallen struggled to rise, gripping the sword with its tip braced against the floor, his knuckles tense.
Chen Wuya stood before him and looked down. "Does your sect master know you acted on your own? Or was this his idea from the start?"
The man clenched his teeth and said nothing.
"I won't kill you." Chen Wuya's voice was indifferent. "Go back and tell Ling Xuzi that the fragment is with me. If he wants it, he can come personally."
Before he had finished speaking, he kicked the man's wrist. The long sword flew from his hand and lodged three inches into the earthen wall.
Clutching his wrist, the man rolled into the corner. His face was deathly pale.
Chen Wuya did not look at him again. He turned to the table, lifted the stone, and picked up the fake paper. He tore it into scraps, stuffed them into the stove, and set them alight. The fire flashed, illuminating half his face, cold and composed.
The real fragment had been pressed against his chest all along, warming faintly with every beat of his heart.
He extinguished the flame and walked out of the room.
The village at dawn was frighteningly quiet. Lamps had come on in several distant homes, and silhouettes shifted behind the windows. Clearly, the commotion had just roused some of the villagers.
The old woman came out from next door, leaning on her cane. When she saw the unconscious men at the door, she was so frightened she nearly fell.
"Don't be afraid." Chen Wuya caught her. "This isn't a bloody massacre. It's merely a feud from the martial world."
"Who... who are you?" the old woman asked, her voice trembling.
"I'm not a traveling peddler," he said softly. "I'm a martial artist being pursued. That sheet of paper is what they want."
The old woman stared at him, her expression complicated. "That boy from the Li family—is he also..."
"He was a spy." Chen Wuya nodded. "He sent word last night, and these people came tonight."
"We... if we'd known sooner..."
"It's better that you didn't know." He cut her off. "I deceived you, but I never harmed a single one of you. Now that things have blown up, I can't stay any longer."
The old woman's lips trembled. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand. "Go. Leave before the sky is fully bright. Head south. There are many mountains and tangled roads that way, and no one will recognize you."
Chen Wuya shook his head. "I'll head north for a while, then turn southwest. They'll definitely pursue the northern route."
At that moment, chaotic footsteps came from the village road. Seven or eight villagers gathered around, men and women alike, carrying hoes and shoulder poles, suspicion written across their faces.
"It's him!" someone pointed at the unconscious man on the ground. "The one who broke in last night!"
"The other one is from the Li family!" another person shouted. "He was pretending to be sick! I knew something was wrong!"
The crowd erupted into commotion.
Chen Wuya straightened and faced them. "I know you hate me for deceiving you. But if I had told you the truth, you wouldn't have taken me in either. The trouble before you was brought here by me, but I'll hand these two over to the authorities. Just say that two bandits turned on each other while fighting over something, and that it had nothing to do with you."
"What about you?" the old woman asked.
"I have to leave," he said. "If I stay, I'll only bring more people here. You saved me once. I don't want to drag you into it a second time."
Someone murmured, "You drove them off and exposed the spy for us... You shouldn't leave."
"Matters of the martial world should be handled by the laws of the martial world." Chen Wuya smiled faintly. "Someone like me was destined never to settle peacefully in one place."
He bent down, dragged the unconscious man beside the woodpile, then helped the injured swordsman up and leaned him against the wall. Though the two had been defeated, neither was in mortal danger.
"They'll leave on their own once they wake up." After saying that, he turned back into the room and slung the pack over his back, its patches layered upon patches.
The villagers silently stepped aside, opening a path.
He reached the village entrance and looked back at the little village where he had spent several days. Cooking smoke had just begun to rise, while roosters crowed and dogs barked. Everything seemed as usual. Yet he knew that this peace had been shattered.
He stepped forward.
After walking a hundred paces, he suddenly heard someone shout from behind, "Young man! Wait!"
It was the old woman.
She ran over, panting for breath, and pressed a pair of cloth shoes into his hands. "I made them myself. Even if they don't fit, you can use them as padding. On the road... be careful."
Chen Wuya accepted them, nodded his thanks, and said no more.
He put on the new shoes and set out along the dirt road heading north.
After walking roughly half a li, he stopped and deliberately left several clear sets of footprints in the mud, pointing toward the northern official road. Then he leaped down into the ditch beside the road, used the trees as cover, and turned onto a desolate path to the southwest.
Deep in the woods, fallen leaves lay thick, and every step was utterly silent.
He circulated Misaligned Force through the soles of his feet. His steps looked lurching, but were actually swift. With the Universe Reversal Step working in tandem with the flow of Misaligned Force, he moved through the winding trail like a fish cutting through water, far faster than an ordinary person.
The village behind him gradually faded into the distance.
When he reached a three-way fork, he stopped for a moment and glanced at the morning light rising in the east.
Then he turned and walked toward Qingyang Town.
A crow took flight from a withered branch, sweeping over his head.
He raised a hand and touched the fragment hidden against his chest.
When his fingertips brushed the charred edge, he seemed to hear the system's notification in his ear:
[An unconventional energy-circulation trajectory detected. Determined to be 'Error Rationalization'—Misaligned Force fusion increased]
He neither smiled nor stopped walking.
He merely quickened his pace, his figure gradually blending into the mist.
At the bend in the mountain road ahead, a stone stele stood beside the path. Three characters were carved into it, half-hidden beneath moss.
He approached and saw those three characters clearly.
"Qingyang Town."
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