The morning mist had yet to disperse as the caravan moved forward slowly. Chen Wuya walked at the very end, his steps light yet steady. The faint scrape of his soles against loose gravel blended into the rumble of rolling wheels, almost impossible to make out. His right hand rested at his waist, his fingertips occasionally brushing the cold, hard end of his dagger's hilt, as though confirming some source of support.
Hoofbeats sounded ahead. Zhao Tianying turned his horse around and stopped before him. The horse snorted two streams of white vapor, and Zhao Tianying looked down at Chen Wuya, his gaze heavy as if weighted with stone.
"Come here." His voice was not loud, yet several escorts ahead and behind instinctively stepped aside to clear a path.
Chen Wuya followed with his head lowered, his steps slightly hesitant, like a menial summoned to be reprimanded. He did not dare approach too closely, stopping half a step away from the horse's side. His hands hung at his sides, his knuckles faintly white.
"That dart just now," Zhao Tianying said slowly, "wasn't luck."
Chen Wuya lifted his head, a trace of fear in his eyes. "Chief Escort... I was startled too. I truly didn't expect to hit it by chance."
"By chance?" Zhao Tianying gave a cold laugh. "The Seven Star Chain—seven darts resonating as one—relies on the seventh dart to stir the airflow. The fact that you saw through that already makes you no ordinary man. And you even knew to reverse your true qi and break the force from the opposite direction—this kind of method, even I would not dare use lightly. Where did a horse-washer like you learn it?"
The others had gradually gathered around them. Some cradled injured arms, while others stood leaning on their sabers,