Zhao Lanjun froze. "Sir, you can find her?"
Lu Changfeng did not answer. He slowly closed his eyes.
He drew a deep breath, circulated his True Qi, and activated Scenting Beauty.
--[Scenting Beauty: Grants its owner supreme skill in blending and identifying fragrances. By tracing the lingering scent on another person, the owner can determine their identity, whereabouts, and even mood, and formulate peerless fragrances with calming, aphrodisiac, invigorating, and other effects.]
Lu Changfeng's nostrils fluttered slightly.
The air held the smell of blood, dust, and the mingled sweat of the townspeople, a tangled jumble of odors. Beneath them, however, lay an exceedingly faint trace, a blend of some special grease, metal, and fragrance. It drifted from the Automaton Armor's body in wisps, barely perceptible.
Ordinary people could not smell it.
But Lu Changfeng could.
He opened his eyes, fixed his gaze in the direction of that scent, and set off after it.
His pace was neither hurried nor slow, as though he were strolling through a quiet courtyard. Yet he always kept precisely the right distance from the figure ahead, neither too far nor too close-near enough to catch her scent, far enough to escape notice.
Zhao Lanjun and Chen Xuanli exchanged a glance and silently followed.
The three crossed the chaotic eastern market and turned into a narrow alley.
Siming possessed remarkable intelligence. She wove through the crowd, deliberately circled several times, and changed her appearance twice along the way-first into a potbellied merchant, then into a woman carrying a vegetable basket. Each transformation was seamless; her figure, gait, and even the look in her eyes changed with it.
An ordinary pursuer would long since have lost her amid that succession of disguises.
But Lu Changfeng was in no hurry.
He relied not on his eyes,