Wood shavings fell along the edge of the stone bench, swept up by the mountain wind, drifting into the air before settling back to the ground. The carving knife in Chen Wuya's hand was still moving, its edge slowly advancing along the curve of the wood block as paper-thin curls of wood spiraled down. He did not look up, but the corner of his eye had remained fixed on the bend in the mountain path.
Ever since that sparrow flew away, there had not been another birdcall.
He knew someone had arrived.
The footsteps were light, yet their crunch over gravel carried a deliberate evenness—not the panic of a refugee, nor the casual gait of a woodcutter. The person walked as if measuring the distance, every stride kept to the same length. The sound of rough cloth shoes brushing across mossy stone steps held a precision that did not belong in the wilderness.
Chen Wuya kept his head bowed as he shaved the wood, but his fingertips quietly turned, slipping the carving knife into his palm with its edge facing outward.
The newcomer stopped three zhang outside the courtyard gate and took a breath, as though he had traveled a long way. An empty bamboo basket hung from his back, and his sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing a faded strip of cloth wrapped around one wrist. He raised a hand to wipe his face. In that motion, his cuff slipped aside for an instant, exposing a dark brown marking along the inside—a bent wolf head with jagged edges.
Chen Wuya's eyelids did not lift, but inwardly, he had already gone taut.
The system silently displayed a line of text:
[Abnormal aura fluctuation detected. Source: five zhang ahead. Disguise level: 87%]
Without revealing anything, he lightly set