The forest gradually thinned as they walked, ancient trees giving way to younger growth and then open farmland that stretched toward the horizon. Evening light painted everything gold and amber, casting long shadows across the dirt path. Chen Yu's ribs throbbed with each step, a dull ache that threatened to sharpen into real pain if he moved wrong. He kept his breathing measured and his face blank, an old habit from a previous life where showing weakness had consequences.
The air smelled different here. Less of the wild forest scent, more of tilled earth and growing things. A farmer worked a distant field, tiny figure bent over rows of some crop Chen Yu couldn't identify from this distance.
Xie Jun glanced at him sidelong. "Why were you out there?"
"Hunting," Chen Yu said.
"With your cultivation level?" Xie Jun sounded genuinely baffled rather than mocking. "You're what, fourth layer? That tiger would've torn you apart."
"The normal one almost did." Chen Yu gestured at his bloodied armor and the claw marks scoring the leather, deep gouges that had come dangerously close to his flesh. No point pretending otherwise when the evidence was written all over him. "But I needed to test myself. Reading about combat and actually fighting are completely different things."
Xie Jun nodded slowly, like this made perfect sense to him. Like risking death to gain experience was just a normal part of cultivation. Which, Chen Yu supposed, it probably was in this world. A moment passed, just the sound of their footsteps on packed earth and distant bird calls, before Xie Jun spoke again. "Why not find someone to spar with though? Has to be safer than hunting alone."
"Not many people lining up to spar with orphans," Chen Yu said with a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No sect backing me. No family name to drop. Just me and whatever I can scrape together."
Xie Jun stopped walking abruptly. He turned to face Chen Yu fully, surprise written plainly across his honest features. "An orphan? But you're..." He gestured vaguely, taking in Chen Yu's bearing, his cultivation level, the quality of his sword and armor despite their current state. "Fourth layer already. At your age. How?"
Chen Yu studied him for a moment. The young master asked direct questions without dancing around what he wanted to know. No political games or carefully phrased inquiries designed to extract information without seeming too curious. No layers of bullshit wrapped around simple interest. Just honest curiosity from someone who seemed to genuinely want to understand.
Refreshing, actually. Chen Yu had dealt with enough people who couldn't say what they meant to last a lifetime.
"I make talismans," Chen Yu said simply. "Tier 1. The money funds everything else."
Xie Jun's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. "Talisman maker? You?" He caught himself immediately and rubbed the back of his head, embarrassment coloring his expression. "I mean—you're young for that. Most Tier 1 makers I've met have been doing it for decades. The patience it requires..." He trailed off, clearly unsure how to finish without potentially insulting Chen Yu again.
Chen Yu allowed himself a small smile. "Turns out I have more patience than I thought."
That was true enough. His previous life had taught him to endure tedious work and frustrating delays, the kind of soul-grinding patience that came from years of pointless tasks that led nowhere. Drawing talismans for hours was almost meditative by comparison, something with a clear goal and tangible results.
Though he'd conveniently forgotten about the moment he'd nearly thrown his brush across the room after his third failed attempt. That rage had been real.
They continued walking. The town walls appeared ahead, solid stone rising against the darkening sky like a promise of safety and civilization. A few other travelers shared the road now, mostly farmers heading home after working their fields, carrying tools over their shoulders and looking tired but content. One nodded at them as he passed. Xie Jun nodded back.
Chen Yu's mind turned over what he'd learned so far. Xie Jun was straightforward and honest, surprisingly humble for someone who could casually kill spirit beasts. And he seemed genuinely interested in Chen Yu's circumstances rather than dismissive of a rogue cultivator with no backing. That combination of power and humility was rare. Potentially very valuable.
The question was how to leverage this connection without being obvious about it.
As they approached the town gates, Xie Jun shifted his pouch of beast materials to his other hand. The contents clinked softly together, cores and claws and whatever else he'd salvaged from the spirit beast. "I should get back soon. My father will want to hear about the spirit beast."
Chen Yu made his decision in that moment. "Before you go—let me buy you a drink."
Xie Jun blinked in confusion. "What?"
"There's a tavern just inside the gates." Chen Yu nodded toward a building visible past the entrance, wooden sign swaying gently in the evening breeze. "You saved my life. Least I can do is thank you properly over a meal."
"You don't have to—"
"I know," Chen Yu said, meeting his eyes directly. "I want to."
Xie Jun hesitated, clearly unused to such direct offers from people he'd just met. His expression suggested he was trying to figure out if there was some hidden agenda or expectation behind the invitation. Then his stomach growled loud enough that a passing merchant carrying a basket of vegetables glanced over with obvious amusement. Xie Jun's face flushed slightly and he rubbed his head again, that same sheepish gesture that was apparently a nervous habit. "I... suppose I am pretty hungry."
"Then it's settled." Chen Yu started toward the tavern, pushing through the protests from his injured ribs. The pain was manageable. He'd endured worse, honestly. He shivered remembering the cooperate meetings he had to deal with.