Tracking

Fang Han left Elder Fang Yuan's Courtyard and came to a secluded corner. He took the folded scroll from his robes and slowly unfolded it.

On the scroll was the portrait of a shifty-eyed, rat-faced man, rendered in a strikingly realistic style.

His features had been captured with great precision—memorable at a single glance.

Several lines of small writing beside it briefly described the man's height, build, and the pair of short blades he habitually used.

Below, an address was clearly marked: Abandoned Courtyard, Number Seven Bing, Withered Locust Alley, south of the city.

"Black Rat..."

Fang Han's gaze swept over the portrait, committing Black Rat's features firmly to memory. He then put away the scroll and strode toward the mansion gates.

"Hmm?"

Not long after leaving Fang Mansion, Fang Han suddenly halted and glanced back over his shoulder.

Just now, he had sensed something strange. Yet when he looked behind him, he detected nothing unusual.

He continued onward, making his way swiftly toward Liangshui City's southern district.

Liangshui City's southern district was utterly different from the eastern quarter where the Fang Clan resided.

The farther south he went, the narrower the streets became. The smooth flagstone roads gave way to uneven dirt paths pocked with holes.

The houses lining the road were low and crowded together, most of them old and worn. A faint, complicated odor hung in the air, mingling coal ash, sewage, and the scent of everyday life.

Most pedestrians wore plain clothing, some even patched and mended, a stark contrast to Fang Han's finely made, well-fitted Fang Clan training uniform.

Dressed as he was, he stood out on these streets like a crane among chickens, impossibly conspicuous.

Curious, reverent, and faintly numb gazes kept falling upon him from both sides of the street.

"This outfit is a little too conspicuous!"

Fang Han frowned slightly. His purpose here was to capture Black Rat. If he drew this much attention, the word would reach his target before he did.

His gaze swept over the roadside and happened upon a small shop with a sign reading "Clothing Store."

He walked inside.

A short while later, when he emerged from the shop, he had put on a coarse gray outer garment.

He had spent twenty copper coins on it.

Though it still could not entirely conceal the vigor and bearing of a martial artist, at least he was no longer so eye-catching. Sure enough, more than half the gazes directed his way had disappeared.

"Withered Locust Alley, Number Seven Bing..."

Following the address, Fang Han threaded through streets and alleys.

At last, at the end of an even more remote alley nearly devoid of pedestrians, he found an abandoned courtyard whose house number had long since blurred beyond recognition, but whose layout matched the address's description.

The courtyard wall was low and broken in many places. The wooden gate stood half-open, thick with dust.

Fang Han listened intently for a moment. The courtyard was silent, save for the mournful whine of wind passing through the ruined window lattice.

He hesitated no longer. Drawing a deep breath, he lashed out with a vicious kick!

Bang!

The already rotten wooden gate flew open at once and slammed into the wall inside with a tremendous crash.

Fang Han flashed into the courtyard like lightning, one hand gripping the hilt of the Azure Edge Sword as his hawk-sharp eyes swept across every corner.

Weeds ran rampant in the courtyard, where shattered earthenware jars and rotten wood lay scattered about.

The main room's door stood wide open. Inside was utterly empty, aside from some broken furniture.

Half the roof of the side room had collapsed.

Everything was visible at a glance. No one could have hidden here.

"No one?"

Fang Han's brows drew together, and his heart sank slightly.

Was the information wrong, or... was this Black Rat too cunning? Had he sensed something amiss and moved ahead of time?

He carefully examined the courtyard and discovered signs that someone had lived here recently, proving that Black Rat had indeed stayed here.

But there was no one present. He might have gone out to find food, yet the greater possibility was that he had sensed danger and relocated beforehand.

"What now?"

Fang Han's brow furrowed tightly.

He had begun practicing martial arts at fourteen. Other than Stance Training, all he had learned was Sword Art; he had never studied tracking, investigation, or similar methods. In this regard, he was utterly inexperienced.

Wanting to track someone yet having never learned the relevant techniques, he did not know where to begin.

Was his very first mission going to end in failure?

Just as Fang Han frowned and considered what to do next, exceptionally faint footsteps suddenly sounded from the direction of the courtyard gate behind him.

Fang Han instantly became alert. He spun around, the blood and qi within him surging in secret as he fixed a sharp gaze on the courtyard entrance and shouted in a low voice:

"Who's there?!"

A lean, capable-looking middle-aged man in ordinary clothes stood at the courtyard gate.

Seeing Fang Han's guarded stance and the faint pressure emanating from him, the man quickly stopped. Respect appeared on his face as he lowered his voice and spoke rapidly.

"Young Master Han, please do not be alarmed. This humble one is a servant of the Fang Clan's External Affairs Office, Number Ding Jiuqi. I was ordered by Elder Fang Yuan to assist you."

As he spoke, he drew a wooden token engraved with the Fang Clan emblem from his robes and carefully displayed it.

"Earlier, I saw Young Master Han enter from afar. Seeing that there had been no sounds of fighting within the courtyard, I guessed that Black Rat might have fled, so I revealed myself."

After hearing his background and seeing the token, Fang Han relaxed somewhat, though he did not lower his guard completely. The blood and qi gathered around him merely settled a little.

"You were the one following me in secret?"

Fang Han immediately recalled the strange sensation he had felt upon leaving Fang Mansion.

It must have been this man's covert pursuit that had stirred his martial instincts and made him sense something amiss.

"Please forgive me, Young Master Han. These were all Elder Fang Yuan's instructions. He ordered me not to reveal myself unless necessary."

The capable servant answered respectfully.

As a servant of the Fang Clan, he knew very well how highly the young man before him was regarded within the clan.

"It's no matter."

After pondering for a moment, Fang Han asked,

"Black Rat may have sensed something unusual and moved ahead of time, but I am not skilled in tracking or investigation. Elder Fang Yuan sent you to assist me—can you find traces of his escape and track him?"

A trace of confidence appeared on the man's face. "This humble one has some knowledge of tracking. I am willing to give it a try for Young Master!"

With Fang Han's approval, the man immediately sprang into action.

He began examining the base of the courtyard walls with extreme care, the direction in which the weeds had been pressed down, and the minute marks on the ground that were difficult to notice.

Before long, he stopped beneath a section of the northwestern wall that was relatively low, where fresh scrape marks showed in the dust atop it.

"Young Master, look here!"

The servant pointed to several blurry footprints at the foot of the wall, nearly impossible to make out, as well as a faint spot of mud on the wall.

"The traces are fresh. Black Rat should have gone in this direction!"

The two of them climbed over the courtyard wall together and emerged into an alley.

The man crouched down and carefully identified the direction of the footprints. He then rose and pointed deeper into the alley, his tone certain.

"Young Master, he went this way! The traces are still fairly clear—we should be able to catch up!"

"Lead the way!"

Fang Han's spirits rose as he spoke with delight.

"Yes!"

The man answered and immediately took the lead, following those nearly imperceptible traces as he tracked onward at speed.

Fang Han followed close behind.

The alley was narrow, with mottled gray walls looming on both sides and casting shadows that felt sinister and chilling.

The capable man led the way, while Fang Han followed three paces behind.

Just as they swept past a section of peeling wall—

A ghostly figure suddenly vaulted over the wall without warning and dropped behind Fang Han as silently as a night owl.

Twin blades gleamed with a cold, sinister light as they silently tore through the air and stabbed straight toward Fang Han's back!