Early the next morning, Wuji woke with a groan. He splashed cold water on his face to shake off the sleep, then picked up a thin twig and began brushing his teeth. It was rough, but it worked.
After spitting, he dried his face with his sleeve and changed into his other robe, which was just as worn and patched as the first.
He ran his fingers through his hair, making it messier on purpose. Once it looked wild enough, he stepped over to the new sword leaning against the wall near the small window of the hut.
Morning sunlight spilled in, catching the steel. He angled the sword just right and stared at his reflection.
"Good," he muttered. "I look poor enough. I can't afford to draw the attention of those damn gangs, not now, not with the town so chaotic."
He pulled a small pouch from under the bed, counted the copper coins, and put them in his other pouch.
"Twenty gold coins left," he thought, looking at the pouch and tightening his jaw. "Not even enough to last the week."
He tucked the pouch into his robe, grabbed the last four handmade books he'd prepared and stepped outside.
The chill of dawn was still in the air. Morning sunlight stretched lazily across the village, and a sharp, clean wind brushed against his face. Around him, the village stirred to life.
A few women hauled pots of water from the well. Two teenage girls swept the dust from in front of their huts, and their chatter drifted on the wind.
Then, Wuji's eyes narrowed as he looked toward the third elder's hut. It was just a few hundred meters from the entrance.
A small group stood there: Liang, Ren, Yulian, Mu Yun, and two others he didn't recognize. They were all part of last night's robbery.
"They're still here," Wuji noted. "But why the third elder? Are they looking for guidance?"
He scoffed inwardly.
"Doesn't matter. That old man only talks about dead dreams. The way he spoke last time made it clear that he's a coward pretending to be wise."
Without breaking stride, Wuji adjusted the books under his robe, veered toward the town, and picked up his pace.
A crowd had gathered at the town gate, consisting of merchants, farmers, and wanderers, all pressing around the guards.
But the guards weren't the center of attention.
Just ahead stood five youths: three young men and two noble-born girls no older than eighteen. Their robes shimmered with gold-thread embroidery, just enough to flaunt their status without screaming wealth.
Servants in matching uniforms circled around the group, along with two elderly men whose expressions said: "We've killed before, and we'll do it again."
Wuji slowed behind few farmers. His eyes scanned the scene with cool detachment.
"City nobles? There's no way they came here on their own. It must be that old man. He actually did it. He got the news out farther than I thought."
The guards were doing their best to keep the peasants away, shooing them off like flies. One of the noble boys pressed a handkerchief tightly over his nose.
"What a filthy place," he sneered. "You can't even breathe here without catching a disease. Don't the peasants know how to bathe?"
"Please endure, young master," said the older man behind him, his voice calm but strained. "This concerns your future, and our family's."
Another noble, a girl with sharp eyes and a silk fan, leaned close with a smirk.
"I have an idea. Why don't we remove anyone in our way?"
The noble boy perked up immediately. "Oh? Do tell. This stench is killing me."
But before she could respond, the second noble girl cut in with a firmer tone.
"No, we're not in our territory. My father's letter said that many others are coming. What we need now is to find a courtyard and settle in before it's all taken."
Her words defused the moment. The servants and guards all exhaled quietly as the tension broke.
Wuji standing near the peasants, watched the carriages roll through the gates.
"The bait worked better than expected. If I had known it would pull in this kind of game, I would have charged the old man more."
He stepped aside as the nobles passed.
"Still, no need to be greedy. This is more than enough for now."
A few minutes later, the guards finally opened the gates for the commoners.
Inside, the change was obvious. The streets that had once held food stalls, shouting vendors, and cloth merchants were now clogged with carriages and attendants unloading luggage. Servants barked orders. Locals scrambled to make space.
Wuji narrowed his eyes. "So they cleared the road. Makes sense. These noble brats need room to parade around. They probably banned road vendors just for carriage traffic."
He adjusted the books on his chest and made his way toward the clothing shop.
Inside the shop, he bought a length of coarse black cloth for three copper coins. He wrapped it tightly around his body, leaving only his eyes visible. He looked like a wandering martial artist or a lunatic or maybe both.
Outside, the streets were more crowded than ever. Servants shouted, nobles strutted, and merchants scrambled to adjust their stalls. Wuji slipped through the chaos unnoticed, weaving between people like a shadow.
A few minutes later, he reached the paper shop and sat cross-legged in front of it. Calm. Still. Silent.
"Now," he thought, closing his eyes, "we wait for the cash cows."
Passersby gave him curious glances but didn't stop most of the times.
"What's this guy doing? Sleeping on the street?" a young man scoffed.
"Shh," said a middle-aged man behind him. "Don't joke around. You don't trifle with people like that. Or you won't make it to dusk."
"Huh?" The younger man laughed. "You think he'd kill me?" In this crowd? He'd be lucky to outrun thr town enforcers."
The older man turned, his eyes serious.
"You're ignorant. That's one hundred percent a martial artist you're mocking. At least second-rate. Maybe even a first rate martial artist—one of those legendary old men who only speak when someone's story ends."
Then he turned and walked off, leaving the younger man pale and sweating.
"Damn... I really have to stop running my mouth..." the young man muttered before slipping away into the crowd.
Wuji heard it all, even through the noise of the street and it was as exactly as planned.
"Play with the mind," he thought. "Let them fill in the blanks. Let them fear what they imagine, not what they see, but it would be better also if I can manipulate what they see."
He smiled beneath the cloth. "Most importantly, I should try not to talk too much and ruin the illusion."
Back at the town gate, Liang and his group followed the third elder, moving with a sense of urgency and unease.
They had convinced him to come along, some out of fear of the growing chaos in the town and others simply afraid of being scammed.
However, not everyone was pleased.
Ren, in particular, remained silent, his thoughts growing darker by the minute. "If the third elder gets too interested in the martial arts technique, we might lose our shot entirely."
After waiting several minutes, the guards finally let them in.
As they entered the town, Yulian's eyes scanned the transformed streets.
"What happened here?" she asked, frowning. "It wasn't like this yesterday..."
The third elder stroked his beard, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, the nobles, the carriages, and the servants lining the once-busy streets.
"We don't know for certain. Most mouths are shut tight. Only the nobles seem to have real answers. Perhaps the town leader knows something, but he's either hiding the truth or simply doesn't care."
From the back of the group, Mu Yun asked, "What about the rest of these people? The ones not from here?"
"Same as us," the elder replied. "They came because they sensed something was happening. Instinct, rumor, ambition, it doesn't matter. They're here to chase whatever's stirring."
Ren scoffed. "So they came blindly? What if it's dangerous? Don't they care that they could die?"
The third elder didn't look at him. "Sometimes, danger and opportunity walk side by side. Those who are too afraid to walk that path never reach anything worth having."
His gaze shifted forward. He spotted a dark figure wrapped in black cloth sitting cross-legged in front of a quiet shop.
"You said that 'waste' claimed the man was at the paper shop?" the third elder asked.
"Yes," Liang nodded. "He also said the man was wrapped in black."
The elder narrowed his eyes.
"Then that's him. He's sitting right there. It seems that waste didn't lie."
Yulian folded her arms. "He wouldn't dare. He knows what we'd do if he did."
Ren smirked but said nothing.
Wuji opened his eyes when he heard their voices. He glanced at them once, slowly and impassively, then closed his eyes again and said nothing.
The third elder stepped forward and gave a respectful bow.
"Senior, forgive our intrusion."
Wuji opened his eyes once more. His voice was low and raspy, older than his years.
"Young man, you are humble. But your kin? Hmph. They do not follow in your footsteps. Still, because of your humility, I shall spare your lives this time."
The threat effect was immediate.
The group dropped to their knees in one synchronized motion.
"Senior, forgive us!" they cried. "We meant no disrespect, please show mercy!"
Passersby slowed but kept their distance. No one dared to stare for long. They had no idea who the cloaked figure was, but in times like these, staring too long could get you killed.
Wuji let the moment hang. Then, he spoke calmly. "Hmm. Good. At least these children can be taught."
The third elder let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"You may go," Wuji said. "But disturb me again, and you may never know how you died."
The third elder hesitated.
His instincts told him to walk away, but another voice pushed back. "How can I preach courage to the young and then cower when the moment demands it? Has age dulled my spirit? No, if I fail now, this entire generation of our village will fail with me."
He straightened his back.
"Senior, forgive our previous disrespect," he said solemnly. "But we are in dire need of your help."
Wuji didn't open his eyes. His aged, weary voice drifted out like smoke.
"My help? Why would you ask it of someone you don't know? And why should I grant it?"
"Just say it already," Wuji muttered inwardly. "My throat's getting dry from croaking like an old man."
The third elder bowed again.
"We do not ask for your physical help senior. A young man from our village recently bought a martial technique from you. We would like to buy more, if you have them."
A few passersby slowed down. One servant from a noble entourage lingered near the corner of the shop, pretending to inspect a paper lantern while subtly tilting his ear toward the elders.
Wuji exhaled through his nose.
"That boy received the technique because I was in a generous mood. But now? I feel no such kindness. You may leave."
"We'll pay double," the elder said quickly. "Even triple. These children need strength."
Wuji raised an eyebrow beneath the cloth.
"Why not have them learn from the boy I already taught? It's quite powerful, though the conditions for progress are harsh. Still, with practice, the technique will regenerate what is lost."
The elder gave a bitter smile. "Some aren't ready to part with certain body parts."
"Hmph. Weak-willed," Wuji snapped.
He raised his right hand and extended his index finger. The group stared at him, unsure of what he meant. Even the lurking servant narrowed his eyes and watched intently.
"Knife," Wuji said.
"Here," the elder said, pulling a short blade from his sleeve.
"Cut the skin," Wuji said.
The elder paused. "Is this what the waste spoke of? The healing they described? If this is a trick, I'll know it now."
He crouched down, brought the blade to Wuji's finger, and carefully sliced it.
Blood welled instantly.
Wuji clenched his jaw to endure the pain. Then, in a clear, commanding voice, as he said, "Watch."
The bleeding stopped. Within seconds, the flesh knit itself back together; veins, tissue, and skin smoothing as if nothing had happened.
The elder's eyes widened. Liang staggered back. Yulian's lips parted in disbelief.
The servant froze for a moment, then turned and ran down the street, shoulders hunched, vanishing into the crowd.
"I need to inform the young master. This man might be a cultivator in disguise."
Back infront of the shop, Wuji lowered his hand.
"Now you understand. This is not a mere martial technique. Imagine what that means in combat, what it means for survival."
They didn't need much imagination.
"A trump card," Yulian murmured. "A true one... How I wish the first technique suited me."
Her comment ignited fresh hope in the group. Those who had hesitated before now clung to the hope that they might be able to use the techniques.
The third elder steadied himself. "Then, Senior, do you have any other techniques?"
Wuji didn't move. "I do. But they are too advanced and demanding. They're not fit for people like you. So no, I will not sell them."
"We want them," the elder pressed. "How much are you asking?"
Silence fell. Wuji said nothing, but his mind raced.
"How much...? Should I say seven hundred gold coins? That's enough for food and herbs for months, but no, that sounds too modest. A thousand? Hmm. A thousand sounds too clean. It feels like a merchant's price. I need something sharper, something heavier."
He raised his eyes and met the elder's gaze. He allowed the weight of his silence to linger for a few more seconds before answering.