By noon, the ash-wind had died down, and the heat in the valley was replaced by a breeze that smelled like iron and old smoke. Chen Ho picked up his bundle, which included three fire-ape hides, a coil of scaled sinew, and a pouch full of low-grade beast cores. He then followed a line of red flags that were fluttering along the ridge.
They led to an outpost that was built right into the Trial Grounds: canvas stalls in a circle, a stone scale in the middle, and glowing warding sigils on posts. A sign said:
ACADEMY EXCHANGE CAMP
Get rid of loot. Get food, medicines, and charms.
If you cheat, you will be kicked out.
Prices go up and down. Crying doesn't.
Students lined up with bloody backpacks. Animals lay panting in the shade. A scribe tapped totals on bamboo slips while two teachers watched with the kind of boredom that hides sharp teeth.
The Phoenix snuggled up to Chen Ho's neck, flames banked, and eyes wide open. To people who didn't know what it was, it looked like a proud little firebird. To him, it was a sun learning to hold back.
He put the first ape hide on the stone scale. The steward squinted, poked, and whistled. "Good thickness." The layer that resists heat is still there. One gold and six silver for each pelt.
Chen Ho pushed the other two over. "Plus cores."
"Mm. Three rank-1, average quality... seven silver each. The steward wrote down numbers in chalk, then stopped and stared at the sinew coil. "Fire-ape tendon?" Okay. "Six silver."
The scribe read the list. "Four gold and twenty-nine silver in total." In coins or school credit?
"Coin," said Chen Ho. Credit bought support. Options bought with coins.
He dropped a purse into his hand. It felt nice and heavy. A different kind of warmth spread out under his ribs. Money wasn't a victory, but it was the first letter of freedom.
He walked around the circle to the tents where the supplies were. Wind-Break, Heat-Screen, and Blood-Still are talismans written in cinnabar. They are salves, dried rations, coil-rope, chalk dust, and flare sticks. He weighed need against want like he weighed steps in a ring—quiet math.
He told the seller, "Three Heat-Screens." "Two Blood-Stills." One Wind-Break. Chalk and rope. And that map too.
The vendor's smile was all sour. "Map of the Trial Grounds? Old version. "Not useful."
"Then why five silver?"
"Because you'll buy it anyway."
Chen Ho almost smiled. "Two silver."
"Four."
"Three." And give an answer.
The man thought for a moment. "Ask."
"Who pays more than the academy for silk, cores, and scaled tendon?"
Someone behind him cleared their throat. A boy in an emerald sash, older and full of himself, had drifted close, flanked by two younger boys. His beast, a shadow cat with a narrow head, blinked yellow boredom.
The boy said, "It depends on what you're selling." "Some buyers don't negotiate." Some people don't ask where.
The vendor's eyes moved to the side.
Chen Ho didn't smile back when emerald sash smiled at him. "Name?"
"Lu Han," the boy said, opening his hands like he was giving a gift. "Broker on the inside. I help new people turn junk into money. He looked at the Phoenix with his eyes. "And I help pets who are too proud become cheap."
The tail of the Phoenix moved. A spark made a noise in the air between them, like a warning. Lu Han's smile got smaller.
He pulled a small, lacquered token out of his sleeve. It was a red wax stamp with a stylized crane on it. "Take this, and I'll pay you twice as much for rank-1 cores. No questions."
The vendor made a strangled sound that could have been a warning. One of the teachers at the edge of the ring turned his head, then turned it back. There were rules. There were also loopholes.
Fatty Lin whispered in Chen Ho's head, "A trap." But since Fatty wasn't there in person, the whisper was a memory, not a sound. Chen Ho let it go through him like wind and instead looked at the edges of the token, where the wax had flaked off the corners and the crane sigil was a hair off-center.
Chen Ho said again, "Double rate." "What do I have to pay you back?"
Lu Han said, "A favor." "When asked."
Chen Ho said, "So, triple rate now," for the favor I'm doing you by acting like I didn't hear that.
Lu Han's eyes got colder. "You have guts."
"I'm solvent."
The cat in the shadow yawned. The seller acted like they were moving talismans around.
Lu Han leaned in and spoke softly. "Hey there, country boy. This academy eats straight lines. You either bend or you break. "Take the token."
Chen Ho looked at the token to see how heavy it was, not his hand. Then he smiled, which was so small that it could have been an exhale, and tapped the stall plank twice.
"Three lessons," he said. "Free."
Lu Han blinked. "What?"
"One: you came up to me at the academy's camp, where two teachers could see you, with a wax token that any scribe could trace back to you. Careless.
The Phoenix peeked, as if it were counting.
"Two: you thought I needed money more than I needed time. No, I don't. I need my name to be free.
A low murmur came from the stall next door. Someone was paying attention.
"Three: Don't insult talent before you try to buy it." He gave the Phoenix a nod. "It remembers."
Lu Han's mouth turned into a line. For a second, something ugly swam under his skin—anger turning into malice. Then it was gone, and the smile was back, clean and bright.
He said, "As you like," and took the token away. "We'll see each other again."
Chen Ho agreed, "Likely." "You speak loudly."
Lu Han's younger siblings got angry, but he let them and walked away, the cat following him.
The seller let out a breath. "You like to step around nets, boy."
"I'd rather see them." Chen Ho put three silver coins on the plank. "The map."
The man said, "Three and a story."
Chen Ho turned his head. "You don't want a story." You need a warning.
The vendor's eyes squinted. "Lu Han has friends outside of school." Step carefully if you cross him.
Chen Ho said, "I do," and slid over another silver. "For being honest."
He took the rope, chalk, talismans, and the map with him. The map was old, but the margins were full of notes from someone else: paths that go downwind, bad water, and things that breathe under sand. More valuable than a clean print.
He washed the soot off his fingers at the water trough. The Phoenix drank from a cupped palm, then shook the drops into steam and looked very happy about it. He gave it a piece of dried meat and felt the flame inside it calm down, get steady, and get brighter.
Bai Yun waved him over from across the ring, and his face broke into a smile. "Do you hear? Even though Zhao Yunxian marched in with a rank-2 lizard, a river beast still bit his sleeve. He yelled at the water for five minutes.
Chen Ho said, "Water has a long memory."
"Also ears," Bai Yun said seriously, then lowered his voice. "Take care of yourself. People are saying you're "too lucky." Boys who are lucky get tested.
Chen Ho said, "I'm studying for it."
Bai Yun's eyes moved back and forth between the Phoenix and the other person. "You always do."
They gave each other broth in exchange for news. Chen Ho found out that the exchange camp moved every night to keep bandits and black-market buyers away. He also found out that the instructors had been called away twice by "weather," which meant something big was moving. He also found out that students were quietly leaving the board, which was marked as "voluntary withdrawal."
The camp started to pack up in the late afternoon. The sigils got dimmer. Poles went up. The tents in the ring folded up like flowers closing. The wind in the valley brought heat again, but this time it was mixed with a new smell: rain where there were no clouds.
No sky, just thunder.
He put the talismans in his inner sleeve, with the Heat-Screen closest to his skin and the Blood-Still under that. Then he tied the rope to his pack. He drew three lines on the map: one to the Hidden Water Cavern, one to a ridge of broken spears drawn by someone else, and one along a quiet run that matched how the wind wanted to walk that day.
"Choice," he said to the Phoenix. It blinked and then looked instinctively at the mark that said "Deep Current," where the map's ink had pooled as if drawn by gravity. The faint not-rain smelled stronger in the same direction.
"Agreed," he said.
He looked at the exchange circle one last time. The teachers watched the students leave with the same calm care that men have when they count sparks. Lu Han leaned against a post and turned his wax token around, smiling back at the lacquer.
"Come," Chen Ho whispered.
They left the camp when the first tremor shook the ground. There was nothing to see, but everything to feel. The trees shook. Ash rose and fell like a breath. Beyond the ridge, something old turned over in its sleep and remembered the lightning.
The Phoenix pressed close, and the heat stayed steady. Chen Ho's purse made a soft clink as the coins fell out. Talismans warmed up against his pulse. The corner of the map moved around where the ink had pooled, as if the ink could smell where it came from.
He walked toward it, step by counted step, a boy who knew how to listen and a creature that had taught fire to be gentle.
The exchange camp disappeared into the green of the Trial Grounds behind them. The Deep Current was waiting ahead. It was part river, part rumor, and part door.
As the wind changed, a low, bone-deep rumble answered the Phoenix's hidden flame like family recognizing family.
He thought again about the dragon. Soon.