Ren noticed them the moment he stepped back onto the street.
Not because they stared.
Because they didn't.
The crowd moved naturally around him — merchants shouting prices, travelers arguing over rooms, cultivators drifting in loose groups. No one blocked his path. No one challenged him.
But the echo inside his chest stirred softly.
Threads of attention brushed against him from all directions, then withdrew the instant he tried to focus on them.
Watching without watching.
Ren adjusted his pace, neither slowing nor speeding up.
He passed a stall selling talismans etched with crude symbols. The vendor smiled too quickly. A pair of cultivators leaned against a wall nearby, laughing a little too loudly.
Ren didn't look at them.
He didn't need to.
Their intent lingered like fingerprints in dust.
Low threat.High curiosity.
Further down the street, he felt it again — sharper this time. A restrained aura brushing his senses, then sliding away.
Middle realm.
Controlled.
Professional.
Ren exhaled slowly.
So the observers had multiplied.
He turned into a narrow side street, letting the noise of the main road fade. The echo responded instantly, mapping presence and absence with quiet precision.
Two presences followed.
One sloppy.One careful.
Ren stopped at a tea shop halfway down the street and stepped inside.
The interior was dim and smelled faintly of herbs. Only a few patrons sat scattered around small tables.
Ren chose a seat near the back and ordered without looking up.
Moments later, the door opened again.
The sloppy presence entered first — a young cultivator pretending far too hard to look bored. The careful one lingered outside.
Ren sipped his tea.
He waited.
Minutes passed.
The sloppy cultivator grew restless. He shifted, glanced around, pretended to stretch.
Finally, the careful one entered.
A woman this time. Dark hair bound simply, robes plain but well-kept. Her aura was folded tightly inward, controlled to the point of near invisibility.
She didn't look at Ren.
She took a seat near the door.
The echo pulsed faintly.
Recognition without memory.
Ren set his cup down.
"They'll start making mistakes if you keep this up," he said calmly.
Silence rippled through the shop.
The sloppy cultivator froze.
The woman near the door sighed quietly.
"You noticed quickly," she said, voice level.
Ren finally looked at her.
"You're not hiding from me," he replied."You're hiding from everyone else."
She studied him openly now.
"That makes you inconvenient."
Ren smiled faintly.
"I've been told."
She stood and approached his table, stopping just out of reach.
"We're not here to harm you," she said."And we're not here to recruit you."
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"Then why bother?"
"Because you disrupt trajectories," she answered simply."People like that… create instability."
Ren leaned back slightly.
"And instability scares sects."
"Yes."
The echo stirred — not offended.
Curious.
"Who do you represent?" Ren asked.
She shook her head.
"Several interests. None officially."
Ren nodded.
"You want to know what I'll do next."
She met his gaze.
"Yes."
Ren considered the question seriously.
Then he answered truthfully.
"I don't know yet."
The woman studied him for a long moment.
Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.
"That's worse than ambition."
She turned to leave.
"One piece of advice," she added over her shoulder."If you don't choose a direction soon… someone else will choose one for you."
Ren watched her go.
The sloppy cultivator scrambled after her, nearly tripping over a chair.
The tea shop returned to quiet.
Ren finished his tea.
The echo pulsed — thoughtful, alert.
So this was the next phase.
Not tests.Not invitations.
Pressure through proximity.
Ren stood and returned to the street.
The watchers melted back into the crowd.
But he knew now:
They wouldn't stop.
Not until he gave the world a reason to look somewhere else.
Or until he became impossible to ignore.
As night settled over the settlement, Ren returned to the inn.
He sat by the window again, watching lanterns flicker to life.
"Eyes pretending not to look," he murmured.
The echo pulsed once.
Agreement.
Somewhere in the settlement, messages were being written.
And Ren understood something crucial:
The world wasn't waiting for him to make a mistake.
It was waiting for him to choose.