Night settled over the clearing.
The last traces of daylight faded behind the trees, leaving the camp lit by scattered lanterns and the low glow of fire pits dug into the earth. Shadows stretched and shifted as flames flickered, climbing briefly up trunks and wagon wheels before falling away again. Horses stood tethered nearby, heads lowered, tails flicking now and then as insects drifted through the air.
Tian Qiao moved quietly between the carriages.
His steps were measured, careful not to draw attention as he approached one wagon set slightly apart from the rest. Its curtains were different from the others—layers of cloth arranged in horizontal strips, overlapping just enough to block sight while allowing air to pass through.
He stopped beside it and lifted his hand.
His knuckles tapped lightly against the wood.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then one of the cloth strips shifted. A slender finger pressed it down just enough to create a narrow opening.
Dark blue eyes looked out from within, reflecting the firelight like the night sky beyond the clearing. A faint flower-shaped mark rested at the center of her forehead, partially hidden by shadow. The curtain did not open further.
Tian Qiao lowered his head at once.
"We will camp here, young miss," he said softly. "The night is too dangerous for us to travel through the forest. I will speak with the Iron Fang Gang about the route ahead."
The eyes regarded him without change.
After a moment, she nodded.
The strip fell back into place, the layers settling until the carriage looked no different than before.
Tian Qiao straightened. He did not linger.
He turned away and walked toward the far side of the clearing, where a larger fire burned steadily. Canvas had been drawn up to block the wind, forming a rough shelter around a low table set with maps and weights to keep them from shifting.
He ducked inside.
All six members of the Iron Fang Gang were already there, along with a few guards from the Tian Merchant Company. Shadows from the firelight moved across their faces as they waited, the sounds of the camp carrying faintly through the night beyond the canvas.
The canvas shifted as Gu Han stepped aside.
"Everyone," he said, turning slightly. "This is the leader of the Tian Merchant Company's guards."
The man stepped forward into the firelight.
He was tall and lean, dressed in a dark traveling robe reinforced at the shoulders and chest. A long blade hung at his side, its scabbard plain, the hilt wrapped tightly in black cord. His hair was cut short, streaked with gray despite his steady posture, and a thin scar ran from his jaw to the edge of his ear.
"Han Yu," he said. "Blood Circulation, fifth realm."
He inclined his head once.
Gu Han nodded in return. Wu Zhen and Li Sen followed suit. Qiao Wen and Zhou Kang did the same, brief and measured. Chen Ming remained where he was, standing slightly apart, his gaze resting on the map table without shifting.
Han Yu acknowledged the nods and stepped back.
Tian Qiao moved forward and placed both hands on the low table. He unfolded the map carefully, smoothing its edges and weighing down the corners with small stones.
"Gentlemen," he said, "this is the route to Yunhe City. We are here."
His finger tapped a point near the edge of the parchment.
Gu Han leaned in. He reached out and traced a line forward.
"From the outer clearing, we will enter the Blackwood Forest," he said, following the narrow markings that cut through dense inked lines. "After that, the road opens near Shuanghe Town. From there, it's a straight path east to Yunhe City."
His finger stopped at the end of the route.
"At a steady pace, it will take two days."
The others looked down at the map and nodded.
Tian Qiao's brows drew together.
"That won't do," he said. "We need to reach Yunhe City by the morning of the day after tomorrow."
Zhou Kang straightened.
"That isn't possible," he said. "Even if we push through day and night at full speed, the terrain won't allow it. The forest alone will slow the caravan."
Tian Qiao's expression softened into a practiced smile.
"Please understand," he said. "It is extremely important for us to arrive on time."
Gu Han's expression shifted.
"May I know the reason why?" he asked.
Tian Qiao's smile did not change. "The goods must be delivered at that time," he said. "They are scheduled to be transferred onward to another prefecture by ship. If we arrive late, the loss will be considerable."
Zhou Kang's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then you should have departed sooner," he said.
Tian Qiao did not react. His smile remained steady. "There were unavoidable circumstances."
Chen Ming, who had remained silent until then, spoke.
"Did our boss know about this?"
Tian Qiao looked at him at once. His smile faded, if only slightly. He did not answer.
Gu Han turned his head. "Answer him."
Tian Qiao's gaze moved between Gu Han and Zhou Kang before he spoke again.
"How about this," he said. "If we reach Yunhe City on time, each of you will receive five additional silver coins."
The air in the tent shifted.
Wu Zhen's eyes lit up. Li Sen straightened. Qiao Wen's fingers tightened briefly around the edge of the table. Zhou Kang exhaled slowly through his nose.
Gu Han lowered his gaze to the map once more.
"If Merchant Tian is truly in a hurry," he said, "then there is another way."
He pointed.
"After exiting the Blackwood Forest, we can cut through the Qingyan Ridge. It will shorten the journey."
Han Yu, the guard leader frowned. "With this many carriages, going through a mountain range—"
Tian Qiao waved him off gently, the smile returning in full.
"Good. Good," he said. "That will do."
Heads nodded one after another.
Chen Ming looked down at the map and shook his head once, the motion small and unnoticed.
The smell of roasted meat drifted into the tent, warm and heavy, carried by the night air. Tian Qiao's mood visibly lightened.
"Come," he said, stepping back from the table. "Let's eat. We need the energy to travel fast."
The men nodded, one by one, and began to file out of the tent, the canvas shifting behind them as the firelight spilled back into the clearing.
***
The camp was loud behind him.
Voices rose and fell around the fires, metal clinked against wood, and laughter drifted unevenly through the clearing. Chen Ming ate quickly, finishing without pause, then reached for a wine gourd from the edge of the table.
He did not linger.
He walked away from the light and noise, passing between the outer tents until the glow of the fires thinned and the sounds dulled. The ground sloped slightly downward where the trees grew closer together. Shadows layered there, broken only by pale moonlight slipping through gaps in the canopy.
His horse stood tied to a low branch, head lowered, tail flicking lazily.
An inconspicuous carriage rested nearby, its outline barely visible in the dark. Chen Ming glanced at it once and moved on.
He sat down beside his horse, back against the trunk, one knee drawn up loosely. The animal shifted its weight and stilled as his hand came to rest against its neck.
Above him, the sky stretched wide and clear.
Countless stars filled it, sharp and cold, scattered across the darkness. A half moon hung low, its light thin but steady, casting faint silver along the edges of leaves and branches.
He pulled the cork from the gourd and drank.
The wine was rough, warming as it went down. He lowered the gourd and let his hand rest against the horse's neck again, fingers moving slowly through coarse hair. The animal breathed evenly, unbothered.
He drank again, gaze fixed upward.
"The bright sun that shows its might," he said quietly,
"Hiding the world beyond with its brilliant light."
He paused, the gourd resting against his knee.
"The moon hung low alone in the night," he continued,
"Gracing the world with a starry sight."
The words faded into the trees.
He lifted the gourd once more and drank until it was nearly empty. His hand slowed against the horse's neck, then stilled. His head tipped back slightly, resting against the bark.
The sky did not change.
The night deepened.
Somewhere nearby, night jasmine stirred, its faint sound threading through the silence as the camp behind him dimmed and the fires burned lower.
"ROOOAAAR…!"
The sound tore through the night.
A low roar rolled out of the forest, heavy and rough, carrying across the clearing and shaking the stillness apart. It rose once, then cut off abruptly.
Chen Ming's eyes opened.
His hand closed around the sword beside him as his body moved in the same instant. He was on his feet before the echo faded, blade drawn halfway from its sheath, breath steady.
The horse beside him shifted and stamped once, ears pricking forward.
Chen Ming scanned the clearing.
Somewhere closer, leaves rustled where there had been no wind before.
The trees beyond the ring of light stood dark and crowded, their outlines pressed tightly together.
He adjusted his grip on the sword and stepped forward, eyes fixed on the forest as the silence settled again, thinner than before.