Morning broke with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the forest canopy, casting dappled light over the caravan camp. The merchants stirred slowly, shaking off the grogginess of a tense night and preparing for the day's journey. The air was crisp and cool, the remnants of dew still clinging to the leaves. Wuye awoke early, his body still sore from sleeping on the hard ground, but his mind sharp and alert after the events of the previous night.
The bandit attack felt like a distant memory now, but the lingering tension in the camp was undeniable. The travelers moved a little faster, packed a little quieter, and cast wary glances into the surrounding forest, as if expecting another ambush. Yet, with the martial artist who had saved them standing watch at the edge of the camp, there was an undercurrent of calm, a quiet confidence that they would be safe as long as he was around.
As the caravan prepared to move, Wuye found himself near the back of the group, where idle chatter began to flow among the merchants. They spoke in low voices, but the hum of conversation gradually filled the air, blending with the sounds of the forest and the clopping of horses' hooves as they set off down the winding road.
"Last night was something else, wasn't it?" said a younger man with a wiry frame and a sharp nose, walking beside one of the wagons. His name was Wen Shicai, a spice merchant who had joined the caravan not far from where Wuye had first met them. He was known for his quick wit and even quicker tongue. "I've been on these roads for years and never seen bandits that bold."
Beside him, the plump woman from the night before, Madam Qin, nodded in agreement. Her face, usually warm and cheerful, was more serious today. "Bold or desperate, one of the two," she said, her tone thoughtful. She was a cloth merchant, traveling to the city to sell her wares—bolts of fine silk and linen stacked neatly in the back of her cart. "Bandits have been getting more daring lately. You'd think the city would send more patrols out this far, but it seems like the roads are only getting more dangerous."
From further up in the caravan, the bearded man who had first allowed Wuye to join, Zhou An, called back to them. "It's the warlords to the north," he said, his voice deep and gruff. Zhou An was a trader in tools and weapons, a man of few words but known for his sharp mind. "They're fighting over territory again. The soldiers are too busy with their own problems to protect the roads."
Wuye listened intently as they spoke, not yet comfortable enough to join the conversation but eager to learn more about these people and the world outside his village. The names and titles they threw around were unfamiliar to him—warlords, territories, northern conflicts. He hadn't realized just how small his world had been until now. Even in the short time he had been with the caravan, the scope of everything felt overwhelming.
As the road continued, the chatter grew lighter, more relaxed, though the bandit attack was never far from anyone's mind. Wen Shicai grinned as he sidled up to Madam Qin, his playful nature reasserting itself. "Say, Madam Qin, you think that guard of ours is single? A man with hands like that, he must have broken a few hearts before he broke those bandits."
Madam Qin laughed, shaking her head. "You've got no shame, Wen. That man's no ordinary guard—did you see how he moved? I wouldn't be surprised if he came from one of those martial academies in the southern provinces. No way a man like that is traveling with us for the simple life."
Zhou An chuckled from his position at the front of the group. "He's a quiet one, that's for sure. I spoke to him once or twice, asked his name. All he said was 'Li Zhang,' and that was it. Didn't say where he's from or why he's traveling with us. Guess it's none of our business as long as he keeps the bandits off our backs."
Li Zhang—the name of the man who had so effortlessly fought off the bandits the night before. Wuye turned the name over in his mind. Li Zhang had barely spoken a word since the fight, keeping his distance from the others, his presence as much a mystery as his skill. Wuye felt a strange pull toward the martial artist, a sense that perhaps there was more to this man than even the merchants knew.
As they walked, the conversation shifted, drifting from the danger of the roads to lighter topics. Wen Shicai, always eager to lighten the mood, started regaling the group with exaggerated tales of his trade. "You wouldn't believe the prices some people will pay for a bit of spice," he said, waving his arms animatedly. "I once sold a single ounce of saffron for enough silver to buy a horse! And the man didn't even blink."
Madam Qin rolled her eyes. "If half of what you say is true, Wen, you'd be riding in a golden cart by now."
Zhou An snorted. "He'd spend it all on wine and women before the day was out."
Laughter rippled through the group, the tension easing as the familiar camaraderie of the road returned. Even Wuye found himself smiling, though he stayed quiet, content to listen to the rhythm of their words. These people—these merchants—were so different from the simple villagers he had grown up with. They lived on the road, moving from one place to another, always adapting, always shifting with the winds of fortune. It was a life he had never imagined for himself, and yet, here he was, walking with them toward the city.
The city. The thought of it stirred something deep inside him—both excitement and fear. He had never left his village before, and now, not only had he lost his home, but he was stepping into a world he knew almost nothing about. The city was a distant beacon, filled with unknown dangers and opportunities. Wuye had no plan, no idea of what he would do when they arrived. But he couldn't stop now. The road was leading him somewhere, and he had to follow it.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the caravan wound its way through the forest, the path beginning to widen as they neared the outskirts of the city's influence. The towering trees thinned out, replaced by fields and small settlements that dotted the landscape.
"Not far now," Zhou An called back, pointing ahead. "We should reach the city gates by noon, if all goes well."
The others nodded, their pace quickening with the promise of safety and civilization just over the horizon.
Wuye glanced up, his heart pounding a little faster at the thought of entering the city. He had so many questions, so many uncertainties. What would he do when he arrived? How would he survive in a place so foreign and vast? And more importantly, how long until the pursuer—if they hadn't already—realized he carried the Akashic Records and came for him?
The caravan pressed on, the morning sun shining brightly overhead, as the road carried them closer to the city gates.
As the day wore on, the caravan continued its steady march, winding through fields and small villages that seemed to grow more frequent as they neared their destination. The idle chatter among the merchants had quieted down, replaced by a palpable sense of anticipation. The road had been kind to them that day—no further signs of bandits, no unexpected dangers lurking in the woods—but the tension from the previous night had left its mark. Everyone was eager to reach the city.
The sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. The warm hues of dusk painted the landscape in shades of gold and amber, giving the scene a serene beauty that was at odds with the weariness settling over the travelers. Wuye, who had spent much of the day walking in silence, found himself marveling at how vast the world outside his village truly was. The forests, the fields, the people—all of it was new to him. Every step carried him farther away from the life he had once known.
But it wasn't until the caravan crested a small hill and the city came into view that Wuye truly grasped the enormity of what lay ahead.
The city—Huoyin—was unlike anything Wuye had ever seen.
Stretching out before them like a sprawling giant, the city gates rose high into the sky, tall enough that they seemed to scrape the heavens. Towering stone walls, thick and imposing, encircled the city, their surfaces worn with the passage of time but still standing strong and impenetrable. The gates themselves were massive, carved with intricate designs of dragons and phoenixes that glowed faintly in the evening light. Guards stood at their posts, armed and watchful, their armor glinting in the last rays of the sun.
Beyond the walls, Wuye could see rooftops and spires rising in every direction, some of them tall and elegant, others squat and humble. The city stretched far into the distance, a maze of streets and buildings that seemed to go on forever. It was a living, breathing thing, pulsing with the movement of countless people and the flickering lights of lanterns beginning to come alive as dusk settled over the land.
Wuye's breath caught in his throat. He had heard stories of cities, of course, from the occasional traveler who passed through his village. But nothing could have prepared him for the sheer scale of Huoyin. His village, with its simple homes and small marketplace, seemed like a distant memory, a mere dot on the map compared to this colossal city.
"This… this is Huoyin?" Wuye whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. The overwhelming size of it made him feel impossibly small.
Wen Shicai, who had been walking just ahead of him, heard the awe in his voice and chuckled. "First time seeing a city this big, eh?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I remember the first time I came here, too. Thought my head would fall off from staring at the walls. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
Wuye nodded numbly, though he wasn't sure he ever would. The gates loomed larger with every step, and the noise of the city—a distant hum of life and activity—grew louder as they approached. He could hear the shouts of vendors, the clatter of carts, the muffled roar of countless conversations. Even from this distance, the energy of the city was palpable, a stark contrast to the quiet isolation he had known all his life.
Madam Qin, who had been walking beside her cart, glanced over at Wuye and smiled kindly. "Huoyin's something, isn't it?" she said. "Don't let the size overwhelm you. It's big, yes, but the people here? They're just like us. You'll find your way."
Zhou An grunted in agreement from the front of the group. "Once you pass through those gates, it's a different world. Keep your wits about you, boy. The city can be as dangerous as it is exciting."
Wuye nodded again, still staring at the city as they drew closer. The gates loomed ahead now, towering above them like ancient guardians of a world beyond his understanding. The line of travelers waiting to enter the city was long, but it moved steadily. Merchants, farmers, and travelers of all sorts stood in line, their goods loaded onto carts or packed onto their backs. The guards at the gates watched them carefully, inspecting papers, asking questions, but there was a routine to it all, as if this flow of people and goods was as natural as the tides.
By the time the caravan reached the gates, dusk had fully settled, and the sky was painted in deep purples and blues, dotted with the first stars of night. Lanterns hanging from the city walls and posts along the road began to flicker to life, casting warm, golden light over the scene. The city was coming alive in a new way now, as the day gave way to the bustling energy of night.
Wuye, still grappling with the sheer size of the city, followed the rest of the caravan as they were waved through the gates. His heart pounded in his chest as they passed beneath the massive stone archway. The world outside the walls seemed to fall away, replaced by the overwhelming sensory overload of Huoyin.
The streets were crowded, filled with people moving in every direction. Vendors called out from stalls, their voices rising above the din of the crowd as they peddled food, trinkets, and wares from distant lands. Carts rumbled by, pulled by oxen or horses, their wheels clattering over the stone-paved roads. The smell of food—roasting meat, spiced dumplings, and steaming buns—wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the city itself.
Wuye's head spun as he tried to take it all in. This was a world so vastly different from his village that he felt lost even as he walked beside the familiar faces of the caravan.
"Stay close," Zhou An called back to the group as they navigated through the crowded streets. "We'll find an inn for the night. Tomorrow, we part ways."
Wen Shicai nudged Wuye with his elbow, grinning like a man who had seen it all before. "Welcome to Huoyin, my friend," he said with a wink. "Let's hope it's kind to you."
As they moved deeper into the city, the noise, the lights, the sheer size of it all seemed to close in around Wuye. And yet, somewhere deep inside, beneath the awe and fear, there was a flicker of excitement. This city was vast, dangerous, and filled with unknowns. But it was also filled with possibilities. Here, anything could happen. But it also held unknown dangers—and somewhere out there, the shadow of the pursuer still loomed.