The mountain road grew wider as they walked.
The gravel path became the Packed Yellow-Earth Highway, its surface pressed into two deep ruts by wagon wheels. Here and there beside the road stood waist-high stone markers inscribed with words like "Forty li west of Cloudpiercing Town," their rough strokes smeared with dried mud.
More people gradually appeared.
Caravans emerged in twos and threes from the forest's edge, pushing wooden wheelbarrows or driving pack beasts. Bundles of hides, tightly tied parcels of medicinal herbs, and assorted clattering goods were stacked on their carts. Several escorts with bone sabers at their waists walked alongside them, their eyes watchful.
Shi Hao rode on Little White's back, with Furball perched atop his head. Boy and monkey looked around curiously.
It was their first time seeing so many strangers since leaving Stone Village.
"Skinny Monkey, what's that red powder on that cart? It smells so good."
Shi Hou walked beside Little White and glanced up.
On an ox cart, several clay jars had been left improperly covered, exposing deep red powder. A gust of wind sent a pungent, spicy fragrance into his nostrils.
Shi Hou's feet rooted themselves to the ground.
Sharp in the nose. Fiercely spicy. A faintly sweet finish.
That scent had been branded into his bones for over thirty years. He could never mistake it.
"Chili powder?"
His voice was so low it was as though he feared frightening something away.
Shi Hou strode toward the merchant beside the ox cart.
"How much for that red powder?"
The short, plump merchant looked him up and down-short hide clothes, skin so dark it shone, a dull gray miniature Knife-Wok hanging from his ear, and a black-skinned monster covered in bone spines perched on his right shoulder.
The merchant shrank back half a step.