Li Tian strolled toward the market with his usual unhurried gait, hands tucked behind his head. From a distance, the shouts and clatter of the marketplace filled the air — merchants barking prices, the clink of coins, the sizzle of food on hot pans. But there was an edge to the sound today, a tension that made even the hawkers lower their voices.
At the entrance, three men in dark leather stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their weapons sheathed but their hands resting on the hilts. Their leader, a scar-faced man with a perpetual sneer, stepped forward.
"Li Tian," he said, voice like gravel. "We've been looking for you."
Li Tian tilted his head. "You could've just sent a letter. Much less dramatic."
The sneer deepened. "We don't waste paper on people like you. You have something that doesn't belong to you."
Li Tian's eyes flicked over the man, then the other two — quick assessments without a hint of tension in his posture. "Afraid you've got the wrong guy. The only thing I have is an impressive ability to nap anywhere."
One of the lackeys growled, stepping forward, but Scarface held up a hand. "You think this is a joke?"
Li Tian gave him a slow blink. "I think you're standing in front of the noodle stall, and the owner behind you looks two seconds away from hitting you with a ladle. So unless you plan on starting a fight over dumplings, maybe step aside?"
Sure enough, the stout noodle-seller glared from behind his counter, brandishing a wooden ladle like a weapon. The moment felt almost comical — three armed thugs facing down a villager who looked half-asleep, and behind him, a furious cook ready to defend his stall.
Scarface's jaw tightened. "We'll be back. And when we return, you'd better be ready."
Without another word, the three turned and pushed their way through the market crowd.
Mei Lin rushed to Li Tian's side. "What was that about? They looked dangerous!"
"They were," Li Tian said lightly. "But they're also loud. Loud people are rarely the most dangerous ones."
"Li Tian, this isn't funny," Mei Lin pressed. "If they come back—"
"They will," he interrupted, starting to walk away. "That's the interesting part."
Back at the healer's hut, the cloaked woman waited. Her sharp gaze followed him as he stepped inside. "You didn't fight them."
"No point," Li Tian replied. "They're not here to kill me — yet. They're testing the waters."
She studied him for a moment. "You're either very brave… or very reckless."
He smirked faintly. "Why can't it be both?"
The wounded man stirred then, murmuring something under his breath. Li Tian moved closer, catching fragments of words — "shadows… closing in… old debt…" — before the man's breathing slowed again.
Mei Lin looked between them, suspicion in her eyes. "Li Tian… what's going on?"
He met her gaze, the easy grin never leaving his face. "Just some travelers passing through. Nothing to worry about."
But even as he said it, he felt the weight of the woman's stare — as if she knew he was lying.
That night, the village was quieter than usual. Li Tian lay awake on his mat, eyes fixed on the wooden beams above. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. His mind replayed the day's events — the wounded man, the cloaked stranger, the armed visitors. It was all too connected to be coincidence.
Footsteps approached outside. Slow, deliberate. He rose silently, slipping toward the door. When he opened it, the cloaked woman was there.
"They'll come at dawn," she said simply. "And they won't be asking politely next time."
Li Tian studied her for a moment, then glanced at the star-filled sky. "Guess I'll have to wake up early, then."