The air in the Lạc Diệp mine hung thick and still. Hundreds of eyes—from the grimy miners to the foreman's thugs—were fixed on Trần Kiên's slender but unshakeable figure. He stood there, breathing steadily, his patched clothes a stark contrast to the powerful aura he now projected, an aura that made it difficult for anyone to look him directly in the eye.
Tôn Hạo and his goons were still a whimpering, humiliated pile on the ground. The deep, purple bruise forming on the large thug's chest was terrifying proof of the seemingly gentle palm strike that had sent him flying.
Suddenly, a shrill, sycophantic voice cut through the silence. "Utterly disgraceful! Quick, help the young master up! What are you all staring at!"
Foreman Tôn, a short, pot-bellied man with beady, calculating eyes, hurried out from a nearby shed. Seeing his son in such a state, he didn't explode with rage as everyone expected. Instead, his eyes narrowed, a cold and calculating glint appearing within them. He was smarter than his son; he knew the boy before him was no mere reckless youth.
"Brilliant! Truly brilliant!" Foreman Tôn clapped his hands, the sound thin and chilling. He approached with a greasy, fake smile that failed to hide his sinister intentions. "To think Falling Leaf Town has such a hidden talent. Trần Kiên, is it? Starting tomorrow, you no longer need to break ore. I'll arrange a much lighter job for you, with better pay."
Trần Kiên remained silent, his calm gaze locked on the foreman. He knew this was not praise but a threat. The "lighter job" was undoubtedly a trap.
"You are too kind, Foreman Tôn. My lot is that of a miner. I am used to breaking ore and wish only to do my job well," Trần Kiên replied evenly, taking a small step back to maintain a safe distance.
Foreman Tôn let out a low, meaningful chuckle. He said nothing more, merely signaling his men to help Tôn Hạo away. But before he turned to leave, he shot Kiên one last look—a look filled with the cold promise of a viper's strike. The message was clear: This isn't over.
Trần Kiên knew he could not stay. The mine, the village itself, was now a pit of lurking danger. He quietly left, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed him, and headed straight for his hut. His decision was made. He had to leave tonight, before Foreman Tôn's schemes could take root.
He had little to pack: a few old sets of clothes, some dry rations, and most importantly, the Stone Elephant Statue, which he wrapped carefully in clean cloth.
Just as he finished his preparations, a tall figure appeared at his doorway. It was Vạn Tam Thông, a renowned merchant whose caravan was known throughout the region.
"Master Vạn," Trần Kiên said warily, his hand instinctively tightening on the cloth-wrapped statue.
Vạn Tam Thông smiled warmly, holding up a hand to show he meant no harm. He remained at the threshold, a gesture of respect. "Young Brother Trần, no need for formalities. I've come with an invitation."
"An invitation?" Kiên's brow furrowed with suspicion.
"Indeed," Vạn Tam Thông nodded, his sharp gaze seeming to pierce right through the boy. "I saw you were preparing to leave. Foreman Tôn is not a forgiving man; staying here will only bring you disaster. I would like to invite you to join my Vạn Bảo Caravan on our journey to Thanh Châu City. What do you say?"
Trần Kiên didn't answer immediately. He weighed the offer. The man was a merchant, and merchants never acted without seeking profit. He wanted Kiên as a guard. Traveling with a large caravan would be far safer than going alone, and Thanh Châu City was his intended destination—a new land, a new beginning.
"Why me?" Kiên asked, his voice still calm. "Your caravan surely does not lack for experts."
Vạn Tam Thông laughed, a hearty, genuine sound. "I have no shortage of experts, but practitioners of the Body Tempering Path, like you, are a rare sight in this age. Cultivators today are obsessed with absorbing spiritual Qi and flying on swords. Who has the patience for the arduous path of honing the physical body—the most difficult, yet most fundamental, of all foundations?"
He paused, his eyes growing distant. "Did you know, the ancestors of our Lạc Việt people, before they developed methods for cultivating Qi, used their very bodies to battle savage beasts and the heavens themselves? Even entry-level formations like the 'Thousand-Li Crane Flight' for scouting or the 'Crane in the Golden Reeds' for concealment require a body strong and resilient enough to guide spiritual energy through complex pathways. Your path, though you have only just begun, is the truest one—the forgotten root of our ancestors' power."
Vạn Tam Thông's words struck Trần Kiên like a great bell, awakening something deep within him. He realized that the manual he had been practicing, the relic from a dying beggar, was part of a legacy far greater than he had ever imagined. It was the foundation of the power that had once made his people glorious. Pride and a heavy sense of responsibility washed over him.
"I accept," Trần Kiên nodded decisively, his eyes firm. "I ask for Master Vạn's guidance."
"Excellent!" Vạn Tam Thông beamed. "Then prepare yourself. We leave in an hour. I don't want to give Foreman Tôn any time to realize the mistake he's about to make."
Kiên had nothing more to prepare. He took one last look at the dilapidated hut that held all his childhood memories, then turned and walked away without hesitation.
Joining the long, impressive caravan, he was issued a long saber of fine steel. It felt heavy and cold in his hands, but also foreign. He knew that for now, his most trusted weapons were his own two hands, his tempered body, and his unyielding will.
Under the faint moonlight, the caravan began to move, silently leaving Falling Leaf Town behind. A new world, filled with greater challenges but also greater opportunities, awaited him. Thanh Châu City, the path to reviving the legacy of Lạc Việt—it had all just begun.