As the hours slipped by, the market slowly began to empty.
Night settled fully over Ying Mountain, and the lanterns hanging from the stalls flickered like restless fireflies. Merchants packed their remaining goods in quiet haste. The crowd thinned. The noise fell away.
Han Liang moved through the shadows with practiced ease, watching quietly as the last traders exchanged brief words and cautious glances. Every step was measured, every breath controlled. Years of training had made him almost invisible.
Yet even as he observed, part of his mind refused to let go of what had happened moments before.
Those eyes.
They lingered longer than they should have.
Wide. Trembling. Unsettling.
He had seen many things on this mountain. He had not expected that.
---
Away from the thinning crowd, Yuan Yu slipped into a small courtyard tucked behind the market. He sat down beneath a narrow eave, the jade comb resting in his palm.
The comb was no simple ornament.
It responded to him. And he could feel it — a faint warmth spreading beneath his fingertips, slow and deliberate, as though the jade were waking up.
He turned it once. Twice.
*What are you carrying?*
No answer came. Only warmth.
From a nearby rooftop, Han Liang's gaze lingered on the young man below. He told himself it was habit — observation, assessment, the instincts of a man trained to notice everything.
He told himself that.
Should he follow?
Or should he remember why he was here?
With effort, he turned away.
The mission came first.
---
Later, at the edge of the market, he met with the Second Commander. They exchanged information in low voices, heads close, eyes moving.
Then — movement.
A flicker at the far corner of the street.
Several masked figures had appeared, moving with the quiet purpose of people who did not want to be seen. Han Liang stilled completely. Beside him, the Second Commander did the same.
Their words carried only faintly through the night, but Han Liang caught enough.
Someone was purchasing weapons.
Someone was making preparations in secret.
"The payment will be made by the Jewel Sect," one of them said.
Han Liang's expression did not change. But something shifted behind his eyes.
*The Jewel Sect.*
He filed the name away carefully. Said nothing. Continued listening.
The conversation ended before he could gather more. The masked figures dispersed, disappearing into the darkness as cleanly as they had appeared.
Han Liang remained where he was for a moment longer, committing every detail to memory — their height, their movement, the direction they had come from.
"We follow tomorrow," he said quietly.
The Second Commander nodded once.
---
Meanwhile, in the small courtyard, Yuan Yu sat unaware of the presence that had lingered nearby.
The jade comb felt warmer now.
Almost as though it had awakened.
He closed his fingers around it slowly and rose to his feet. The night had deepened around him, and the market behind him had gone almost silent.
Yuan Yu returned to his sect residence without hurrying. The tall walls stood among the peach trees, quiet and imposing beneath the moonlight. He passed through the gate, nodded to the guard, and walked on.
The warmth in his palm did not fade.
Not yet.