Time hurried by, and ten days passed in the blink of an eye.
Yi City, Zhao Kingdom, in the Northern Region of Eastern Maitreya Province.
Chen Heng sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his sleeves falling naturally from his knees. Holding a piece of Tortoiseshell, he silently circulated his Mystery Art, murmuring under his breath.
Countless lights flickered in his pupils, like bright stars blinking in and out, shifting without rest.
At first, the points of light were as numerous as fireflies in late summer, densely packed together. Gradually, however, they dwindled to a hundred or so.
After several dozen breaths, even those hundred or so vanished, leaving only a single pure, unblemished gleam. It was extraordinarily dazzling, illuminating the white wall as though streams of fire were scorching it.
At that moment.
A trace of understanding suddenly arose in Chen Heng's heart. He lifted his eyelids slightly and looked calmly out the window.
Within his sight, just beyond a tall courtyard wall, lay the streets and lanes.
Though far from the bustling pleasure quarters and not particularly prosperous or crowded, the area was still lively. Houses stood in continuous clusters, packed like scales and comb teeth, stretching several miles in a long, snaking line.
The cries of peddlers, the conversations of neighbors, and the clamor of children never ceased.
After Chen Heng turned his gaze outside.
Before long, a woman's shrill voice rang out, piercingly loud.
Zhang San, you thieving scoundrel! The elders say enemies meet on narrow roads. How true that is.
He slowly recited the words in his mind.
The next instant, the woman outside the wall shouted those very same words, her voice and manner fierce!
*There's no grain left at home to put in the pot. When do you intend to repay the half-qian of