The fallen leaves on the stone terrace were swept up by the wind, then drifted back down. Chen Wuya stood where he was, the lingering warmth of Misaligned Force still circulating in his palm. He did not move, but his gaze had already crossed the long path beyond the mountain gate and settled in the direction the messenger had gone.
Bai Zhi came to his side, her voice lowered. "He left too hurriedly."
"Not hurriedly." Chen Wuya shook his head. "Someone is waiting for his news."
With that, he turned toward the side courtyard. His steps were light, yet every one of them fell within the gaps between the night patrol disciples changing shifts. Bai Zhi did not ask. She silently followed for a few paces, then stopped. She knew what he was going to do.
Chen Wuya stopped beside the outer wall of the posthouse and closed his eyes for a moment. The Misaligned Practice Connects to Spirit System quietly began to operate—he deliberately reversed the flow of his true qi into the Yongquan points in his feet, then dispersed it into the earth like a wandering, motley breath. This was a method he had gleaned from stray dogs: the most chaotic aura was the easiest to hide within.
Sure enough, an exceedingly fine trail of true qi seeped out from within the wall, intermittent, as though deliberately suppressed. This was not cultivation an ordinary civil official could possess. Stranger still, the aura circled around the posthouse instead of leaving with the messenger, lingering near the West Corner Gate.
He opened his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Tonight won't be quiet."
After returning to the rear hall of their encampment, he summoned two Greenwood Alliance contacts and gave them only one instruction: "Watch the West Corner