The first light of morning crept over the village rooftops, painting them in a pale gold. The usual roosters were silent, as if even they sensed the unease in the air.
Li Tian stood at the edge of the main path, hands loosely in his sleeves. Beside him, Mei Lin shifted nervously, clutching a small pouch. The cloaked woman stood a few paces back, her hood casting a shadow over her face.
"You should hide," Mei Lin whispered.
"And miss the morning entertainment?" Li Tian replied, eyes still on the road.
"You think this is a game," she snapped.
"No," he said quietly. "I think this is a test. There's a difference."
In the distance, dark figures appeared, their silhouettes crisp against the rising sun. Scarface led the way, flanked by his two companions from before — and this time, three more men followed. All carried weapons openly.
The villagers began peeking from behind doors and shutters, muttering among themselves.
"Li Tian!" Scarface called out, his voice carrying over the still air. "No more talking. We want what you took."
Li Tian tilted his head. "You never told me what it is. Hard to return something I don't know about."
Scarface's lips twisted. "Enough stalling!" He gestured, and the two nearest men stepped forward, blades flashing.
Mei Lin's grip on the pouch tightened. "Li Tian—"
He raised a hand to silence her. "Go back."
She froze. "I'm not leaving—"
"I said go." His voice was calm, but the steel beneath it left no room for argument. Reluctantly, she stepped back, retreating toward the cloaked woman, who pulled her further into the shadows.
Scarface's men advanced. Li Tian didn't move until the first one swung. Then, with a step so small it seemed lazy, he slipped past the arc of the blade. His hand flicked out, tapping the man's wrist. The sword dropped to the dirt, and the attacker stumbled back, clutching his hand as though it had gone numb.
The second man roared, aiming a thrust at Li Tian's chest. With almost no effort, Li Tian twisted aside, caught the flat of the blade with two fingers, and pushed — sending the man sprawling face-first into the dust.
The watching crowd gasped. Scarface's eyes narrowed. "So you can fight after all."
"Barely," Li Tian said with a shrug. "I'm still half-asleep."
Scarface drew his own weapon, a broad-bladed saber. The others circled in, trying to flank him.
Li Tian's gaze flicked between them. He didn't attack first. He let them come. Every strike was deflected, every step forward from his opponents redirected into a stumble, a fall, or a disarm. It was precise, efficient — and maddening for the attackers, who found themselves unable to even graze him.
Finally, Scarface barked an order. "Enough! Surround him!"
The six men tightened their circle. The villagers held their breath. Mei Lin gripped the cloaked woman's arm.
Then, without warning, Li Tian stepped forward, breaking the circle before it could close. His movements blurred — a strike to one man's elbow, a sweep at another's ankle, a push that sent a third crashing into his comrade. In moments, four of them were down, groaning.
Scarface growled, rushing in with a powerful overhead slash. Li Tian caught the saber's hilt mid-swing. For a heartbeat, they stood locked — Scarface straining, Li Tian holding with one hand. Then, with a twist, Li Tian wrenched the weapon free and tossed it into the dirt.
"This isn't your fight anymore," Li Tian said quietly.
Scarface's face darkened. "You'll regret this." He spat on the ground, signaling the retreat. The surviving men limped after him, disappearing down the road.
The villagers erupted into relieved murmurs. Some began to thank Li Tian, but he waved them off and walked back toward the healer's hut.
Inside, the cloaked woman stood waiting. "You could have ended them," she said.
"I could have," Li Tian agreed. "But why cut down weeds when you can follow their roots?"
She regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "They'll return with worse."
"I'm counting on it."
Mei Lin burst in then, eyes wide. "Li Tian, you can't keep—"
"Mei Lin," he interrupted gently. "Sometimes the only way to stop trouble is to let it come to you."
She stared at him, frustration warring with worry. Finally, she threw up her hands. "You're impossible."
He smiled faintly. "And yet you still follow me around."
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't reply.
Outside, the sun climbed higher, and the village began to return to its usual bustle. But beneath the surface, an unspoken awareness lingered — trouble had found them, and it wasn't finished yet.
And somewhere beyond the hills, Scarface nursed his pride and planned his return.