Xiao Yi poked at the campfire with a branch, coaxing the flames higher. The firelight illuminated his faintly amused face. He chuckled, his tone tinged with mockery and dismissal.
"It's all too one-dimensional. In a place this big, everyone sharpens their heads to squeeze into the same race, all for that little bit of Dou Qi. Don't you have anything like... hmm, 'diversified development' or 'well-rounded education'? Fighting and killing every day, bowing to whoever's strongest-doesn't it get old?"
Yao Chen's displeased voice rose from the wine jar. "Neither of you has even truly ventured beyond this tiny Wutan City. What you know of the boundless Dou Qi Continent is no more than the tip of an iceberg, yet you dare pass such rash judgments on the entire continent's order and cultivation system? Wait until you've actually traveled across the continent before offering your opinions."
Yao Chen was clearly unhappy with Xiao Yi's flippant assessment. In his eyes, the Dou Qi Continent's cultivation system had its own reasons for existing and a profound foundation. How could these two "outsiders" presume to criticize it at will?
Hearing the displeasure in Yao Chen's voice, Xiao Yan hurriedly waved his hands, eager to distance himself. He pointed at Xiao Yi beside him and said with a pained expression, "Please don't misunderstand, Yao Lao! I didn't say any of that. This guy's the one spouting nonsense and dreaming up wild ideas! I haven't said a thing. I was just a little surprised, that's all. I absolutely meant no disrespect!"
His frantic attempts to defend himself drew a soft snort from Yao Chen inside the wine jar, though it was impossible to tell whether he believed him.
The night gradually deepened. Snowflakes continued their tireless descent, and the campfire's light flickered in the wind and snow, offering traces of warmth.
With their "profound" discussion of academies and the world's order concluded, both of them gradually succumbed to drowsiness. Xiao Yan was the first to doze off against the wall, his head bobbing. Before long, Xiao Yi yawned, stretched, wrapped his bedding tightly around himself, and fell into a deep sleep.
Yao Chen's soul floated quietly inside the wine jar. He felt no need for sleep. The unfamiliar terms Xiao Yi and Xiao Yan had spoken-"Another World," "science," "space-time tunnels," and "schools"-were like pebbles dropped into the still, ancient well of his heart, stirring ripple after ripple.
He had lived for many long years and considered himself knowledgeable and well-traveled, yet the information these two juniors brought had completely overturned his understanding of the world. He began to ponder in silence. What was that world like, with no Dou Qi but a strange power called "science"? And how did those so-called "schools" nurture talent?
Early the next morning, the first ray of sunlight pierced the clouds and spilled over the snow-covered earth, reflecting a dazzling brilliance. The campfire in the courtyard had long since gone out, leaving only cold ashes scattered on the ground. Xiao Yan was awakened by faint jingling and clattering, along with Xiao Yi's urging.
Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sat up and saw Xiao Yi carrying the blackened wine jar over to place it in the bicycle's basket. At the sight of this familiar yet unfamiliar means of transport, the corner of Xiao Yan's mouth twitched.
Though it had been an everyday sight on Earth, riding this thing openly through the Dou Qi Continent always felt a little... out of place. Still, he had to admit that it was much faster than walking. Without further hesitation, he stepped forward and climbed somewhat awkwardly onto the bicycle's rear seat.
Once Xiao Yan was seated securely, Xiao Yi pushed hard against the ground with both feet. The bicycle shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, jingling and clattering as it swiftly left Xiao Yan's courtyard and headed toward the Xiao Clan's main gate.
A short while later, a peculiar sight appeared on the main road connecting Wutan City to a neighboring town. A young man in somewhat odd clothing rode a strange, intricately built two-wheeled vehicle. A wine jar sat securely in the basket at the front, while another youth perched rather stiffly on the rear seat. The bicycle traveled over a road still dotted with mud and lingering snow, giving off faint creaks and the clicking of its turning chain.
Passing pedestrians and vendors out early all cast looks of astonishment, curiosity, and even a little fear their way. Many recognized the rider as "Crazy Ghost," and the strange vehicle beneath him that could move on its own drew even more pointing and murmured discussion. Sitting on the rear seat, Xiao Yan felt his cheeks burn and wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
"Look, it's those two young masters from the Xiao Clan! That Crazy Ghost's out riding that weird iron contraption again!" A candied-hawthorn vendor craned his neck and spoke to a regular customer beside him.
"Sure is. Haven't seen him riding that thing for a while. In weather this cold, too-doesn't he feel frozen stiff?" a middle-aged woman chimed in, her hands tucked into her sleeves, her tone carrying curiosity and puzzlement.
Xiao Yi pedaled hard up front. The freezing wind poured into his collar, making him involuntarily draw in his neck. Xiao Yan, on the rear seat, was far more focused. With one hand, he gripped Xiao Yi's clothes tightly to keep his balance; with the other, he held open a simple map of Wutan City. Every so often, he used the charcoal pencil he carried to circle and mark something on it. Tiny snowflakes landed on the map and quickly melted into small wet spots, but he paid them no heed. His brows were knitted, his expression grave.
The bicycle threaded its way through the slightly slick streets, its wheels crunching softly through the thin snow. Yao Lao's voice rose from the wine jar just then.
"This weather brings back memories of some bitterly cold places in the north. But, boy, all that scribbling on your map-have you discovered something?"
Xiao Yan did not answer immediately. Instead, he scrutinized the sights on either side of the street more carefully, matching the places where he remembered disabled children begging to the marks on his map. Each time he confirmed a location, he drew a heavy cross over it.
Soon, at the entrance to a narrow alley piled with clutter, he spotted what he was looking for. Not one figure, but three or four huddled together. They were all young, around six or seven, and their thin, ragged clothes left them shivering in the cold wind.
More horrifying still, their bodies were twisted unnaturally-some had arms bent at grotesque angles, others had visibly deformed legs and feet, and one child bore shocking burn scars on his face. He could only curl up in the corner by the wall, staring with hollow eyes at the occasional passerby.
Xiao Yan's heart clenched violently. Uncontrollable anger and pity surged through him, intertwined. His fists tightened involuntarily, his nails almost digging into his palms. But he forced himself to calm down. Acting rashly now would accomplish nothing and might instead alert the venomous snakes lurking in the shadows.
He drew a deep breath of icy air, quickly took out his charcoal pencil, and added several precise marks to the map, fixing this location firmly in his memory. I can't rush this. I have to endure, find an opportunity, and catch every last one of these bastards in a single net! he repeated silently, his gaze as cold as a blade.
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