Late afternoon light filtered through the trees, slanting across the narrow path in uneven bands.
The road curved gently between trunks that had grown close over time, their branches interlacing overhead and breaking the sunlight into shifting patches. Leaves stirred in the breeze, brushing together softly, and somewhere deeper in the forest a bird called before falling silent again.
Six figures stood beside the path.
Five of them gathered near the center, their weapons resting at ease, their attention drifting between the road ahead and one another. A short distance away, a young man stood apart, his back against the trunk of a tree. One knee was bent, the sole of his foot pressed flat to the bark. His arms rested loosely at his sides, eyes closed, breath steady.
Gu Han glanced over and hesitated before calling out.
"Chen Ming ,come stand with the others," he said. "We'll be moving soon."
Chen Ming shook his head once without opening his eyes and remained where he was.
Gu Han watched him for a moment, then let out a quiet breath.
"Leave it, Gu Han," one of the younger men said. He was broad-shouldered, carrying a heavy saber at his side, the grip worn smooth by use. "He's just like that."
Another nodded in agreement, adjusting the spear strapped across his back.
The sound of wheels reached them before the caravan came into view.
Wood creaked against axles as a line of carriages emerged along the curve of the road. Five, then six wagons rolled forward, canvas covers drawn tight, horses moving at a steady pace under the guidance of mounted guards. Dust rose beneath hooves and wheels, hanging briefly in the air before settling again.
The six of them gathered together as the caravan slowed.
From the leading carriage, an old man stepped down carefully. His robe was layered and well-kept, dyed a muted blue, its sleeves wide and neatly hemmed. His hair was thin and white, pulled back and secured with a simple clasp, and his back bent slightly with age. Despite that, his eyes were clear and alert as they moved over the group.
He brought his hands together and inclined his head.
"My name is Tian Qiao," he said. "I oversee this route for the Tian Merchant Company."
The guards returned the gesture in turn.
The broad-shouldered youth stepped forward first. He wore a sleeveless leather vest over his robes, arms thick with muscle. The saber at his waist was long and heavy. "Wu Zhen," he said. "Blood Refinement, third realm."
Beside him, the slimmer young man adjusted the short blade at his hip. His robes were darker, fitted for movement. "Li Sen," he said. "Blood Refinement, second realm."
One of the middle-aged men followed, his expression tired but composed. A spear rested against his shoulder, its shaft polished from long use. "Qiao Wen," he said. "Blood Refinement, fourth realm."
The other middle-aged man inclined his head slightly. He carried no visible weapon, though the outline beneath his robe suggested otherwise. "Zhou Kang," he said. "Blood Refinement, fifth realm."
Gu Han spoke last. "Gu Han," he said. "Blood Refinement, fifth realm."
Tian Qiao nodded at each of them, a faint smile settling on his face as he listened.
His gaze then shifted to the young man standing apart.
Chen Ming opened his eyes and stepped forward half a pace.
"Chen Ming," he said. "Body Reinforcement."
The smile faded.
Tian Qiao nodded once, his attention already moving on.
He turned back to Gu Han, the smile returning, deeper this time. "Then we will rely on you," he said. "The Tian Merchant Company hopes to reach Yunhe City without incident. Payment will be made once we arrive at our branch there."
Gu Han gave a short nod. The others followed suit.
Chen Ming did not.
His eyes had narrowed slightly as he looked past the old man, toward the line of carriages and the mounted guards already waiting beside them. After a moment, he spoke.
"What's in the caravan?"
The air shifted.
Tian Qiao's eyes flicked back to him, displeasure showing briefly before he masked it. He glanced at Gu Han. Gu Han did not speak.
The old man smiled again, though it did not reach his eyes.
"What does a merchant caravan usually carry?" he said. "Goods for sale. Pills. A few artifacts meant for trade."
Gu Han nodded as if the answer were self-evident. The others did the same.
Tian Qiao turned back toward the carriages.
"Shall we start moving?" he asked Gu Han.
Gu Han nodded.
Tian Qiao returned to his carriage, lifting the hem of his robe as he stepped back inside. The canvas curtain fell into place, shutting out the light.
The six guards moved toward the side of the path where their horses had been grazing. Leather tack was gathered, reins lifted, and saddles settled with familiar motions. Hooves stamped softly against the ground as the animals were brought together.
They mounted and took their positions.
Zhou Kang and Li Sen rode ahead of the caravan, keeping to the front where the road curved out of sight. Gu Han and Qiao Wen remained at the rear, riding wide enough to watch both the wagons and the tree line beyond. Chen Ming and Wu Zhen settled into the middle, keeping pace alongside the central carriages.
The Tian Merchant Company's guards spread themselves along the line as well, some riding near the wagons, others walking beside the wheels with hands resting close to their weapons.
The caravan moved forward.
The road was firm beneath the wheels, packed earth broken occasionally by stretches of exposed stone. The center dipped where rain had worn shallow grooves, but the path remained passable, and the carriages rolled on without slowing.
Wu Zhen glanced sideways.
"It seems Tian Qiao looks down on you," he said.
Chen Ming did not turn his head. His gaze remained on the road ahead, where sunlight filtered through the thinning trees.
Wu Zhen waited a moment, then continued, his tone casual. "You're at the peak of the Body Reinforcement realm. You could break through to Blood Refinement any day. Why haven't you?"
Chen Ming looked at him briefly.
"Cultivation technique," he said.
His eyes returned to the road.
Wu Zhen frowned. "What? Boss isn't giving you the Iron Fang Gang's technique?" His voice rose slightly. "How can that be? You've got better talent than any of us."
"I refused it," Chen Ming said.
Wu Zhen stared at him.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, he shook his head and looked forward, the question left hanging.
The caravan continued without interruption.
As the light faded, the forest thinned and the road widened into a shallow clearing. The sun dipped behind the trees, leaving the sky streaked with dim orange before darkening fully. The wheels slowed, then stopped.
Gu Han urged his horse forward and rode up beside Tian Qiao's carriage. He leaned close and spoke quietly.
The carriage came to a halt.
Tian Qiao stepped down and raised his hand, signaling for the caravan to stop moving.
"We've reached the end of the outer settlements," he said. "From here on is the Blackwood Forest. It isn't suitable to travel through it at night. We'll camp here and resume in the morning."
The drivers climbed down from their seats. Guards dismounted. Canvas flaps were drawn back, and people began to step out from the carriages.
There were more than twenty in total, men and women alike. Some stretched stiff limbs, others rubbed at their shoulders or spoke in low voices.
"Finally stopped," one muttered.
"My legs were going numb in there."
"I thought we'd keep going until dark."
Small clusters formed as they talked, the sound of their voices blending with the rustle of leaves and the soft stamping of horses.
Chen Ming dismounted and led his horse to a nearby tree. He looped the reins around a low branch and checked the knot before letting go. The horse lowered its head and stood quietly.
He stepped back and looked up.
The sky above the clearing was clear, stars already visible between the drifting clouds. The forest pressed close around the camp, dark beyond the reach of the fading light.
"Chen Ming," Wu Zhen called. "Come here. We need to discuss something about the route ahead."