The river-slum did not sleep.
It breathed.
Wooden walkways creaked beneath passing footsteps, each sound swallowed quickly by damp air and the constant lap of dark water against rotten pillars. The smell of algae, rust, and old blood clung to the night. Somewhere nearby, a baby cried...once...before the sound cut off too abruptly, as if even grief knew when to be silent here.
Jin Yue moved through the narrow paths without haste.
He wore plain clothing, faded and worn, the kind that belonged to no one worth remembering. His hood was pulled low, shadowing his face, and his steps were measured...neither hurried nor slow enough to draw attention. He blended himself into the slum the way water blended into water.
Survival demanded it.
He passed a gambling den glowing with uneven lantern light. Laughter spilled out, sharp and brittle, followed by the clatter of coins and the low murmur of cultivators arguing over petty gains. Jin Yue adjusted his path instinctively, skirting the edge of the crowd.
That was when his skin prickled.
Not killing intent.
Not danger.
A gaze.
The sensation was light...almost nothing...but Jin Yue noticed it immediately. Years of living unseen had taught him the difference between being looked at and being noticed.
This was the latter.
He did not stop walking. He did not look around. He only slowed his breathing and let his spiritual presence sink even lower, thinning until it was barely more than a shadow of itself.
Still, the feeling remained.
It followed him past the gambling den. It lingered as he crossed a narrow bridge made of warped boards and fraying rope. It pressed closer as he stepped into a darker stretch of the slum where lanterns were scarce and shadows pooled thickly between buildings.
Jin Yue's fingers tightened beneath his sleeves.
Someone was watching him.
The patrol post came into view ahead...a raised platform of reinforced stone and wood, marked with the city guard's insignia. Two cultivators stood at the entrance, their posture relaxed but alert, eyes scanning the steady flow of people moving through the district.
Jin Yue slowed.
Passing through guard territory always carried risk. Even low-ranking cultivators could sense irregularities, and Jin Yue carried too many things beneath his skin that should not exist.
One step.
Another.
The guards glanced at him briefly, then looked away.
He exhaled...just a fraction too soon.
The pressure sharpened.
This time, it came from above.
Jin Yue's instincts screamed. He stopped just short of being obvious and lifted a hand, pretending to adjust the strap of his worn satchel. His gaze flicked upward, careful and indirect.
On the elevated walkway overlooking the slum, a man stood apart from the patrol.
His uniform marked him as someone with authority, but it was the stillness of his posture that drew Jin Yue's attention. He stood straight-backed, composed, as if the chaos below was nothing more than a scene to be observed. Lantern light brushed his dark hair, tied neatly at his back, and traced the sharp line of his jaw before slipping away.
Their eyes met.
Only for a moment.
But that moment struck like a stone dropped into still water.
The man did not look away.
He did not dismiss Jin Yue as background. He did not scan him with suspicion or greed.
He focused.
Jin Yue's breath caught...not in fear, but in something far more unsettling. His pulse stumbled, then surged, an unfamiliar sensation tightening in his chest.
He lowered his gaze immediately and resumed walking, forcing his steps into a steady rhythm.
Don't look back.
He didn't need to be told.
Yet the weight of that gaze clung to him as he passed beneath the patrol walkway. It followed him down narrower paths, past shuttered shops and sagging homes. It stayed even after the guards were far behind.
That was what unsettled him most.
Cultivators noticed people like him every day. Some with contempt. Some with boredom. Some with cruelty.
None of them watched like that.
Jin Yue reached the edge of the slum where the river widened, black water sliding silently beneath the moonlight. He stopped there, resting one hand against a damp post, pretending to catch his breath.
Only then did he allow himself to exhale fully.
His heart was racing.
Ridiculous, he told himself. One glance meant nothing. He had survived worse than a stranger's attention.
And yet...
His fingers curled unconsciously.
The memory of that gaze returned, unbidden. Not sharp. Not hostile. Restrained. Controlled. As though the man had thought something...and chosen not to act on it.
That restraint disturbed Jin Yue far more than aggression ever could.
He pushed away from the post and continued on, forcing his thoughts back to practical matters. He needed shelter. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere forgotten.
The abandoned temple near the riverbank would suffice.
As he walked, a strange awareness lingered beneath his skin...not fear, but absence. The pressure was gone now. The sense of being watched had vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.
Jin Yue should have felt relief.
Instead, a hollow sensation settled in his chest, subtle but persistent, like something unfinished.
He frowned.
That reaction irritated him.
Attachment was dangerous. Curiosity was worse. People like him survived by remaining unnoticed, unremembered.
And yet, as he reached the crumbling steps of the abandoned temple, Jin Yue paused.
Just once.
His gaze drifted back toward the direction of the patrol walkway...toward a place he could no longer see.
The night answered with silence.
Jin Yue stepped inside and let the darkness close around him, unaware that one unnecessary glance had already changed the path of his life.
Someone had seen him.
And that someone would not forget.