Chương 14: Arrival at the Town

The town of Silverstream materialized from the morning mist—first the church spire, then the tile roofs, then the smoke of cookfires. Wei Chen had seen it before, but his child's memory had flattened it into something simpler. Now, with eyes refined by cultivation, he saw layers his younger self could never have perceived. The town's layout followed geomantic harmony. The central square aligned with the region's primary qi flow, and the river along the eastern edge carried a faint spiritual resonance.

The legacy supplied this analysis automatically, and he found himself cataloging details when he should have been watching for threats. Control, he reminded himself. Use the knowledge, don't let it use you. Caravan Master Bo called a halt at the town's edge, where a wooden platform served as informal market. The wagons formed a semicircle, horses unhitched, guards dispersing to secure the perimeter. Wei Chen's business was in the town proper.

He had resources to sell, information to gather, and connections to renew. He found the herbalist's shop without difficulty. The sign above the door showed a mortar and pestle, slightly faded. The smell, when he pushed open the door, was exactly as he remembered: dried plants and mineral salts. Mistress Yao looked up from her ledger. She was older than his memory suggested, her hair more gray, her movements slower. But her eyes were the same—sharp and assessing.

"Wei Chen." She did not seem surprised.

"Your father spoke of you often, in the years before..." She paused.

"... before he stopped coming. I wondered when you would appear."

"You knew I would come?"

"I knew someone would come. The Wei family always sends someone, eventually." She closed her ledger.

"What do you have?" He laid out his goods on the counter: beast cores, spirit herbs, scales from the Jungle Tyrant, the strange fur from the phasing beast. Mistress Yao examined each item with methodical patience.

"Your father's source?" she asked, holding up the Tyrant's core. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"My own." She looked at him differently then.

"The core is grade four, possibly five. I'll give you sixty silver. The herbs—" she sorted through them, "—thirty silver total. The scales are damaged, but there's enough intact material for two, possibly three breastplates. Twenty silver. This—" she held up the phasing beast's fur, "—I don't recognize. Where did you find it?"

"The deep jungle. It was fighting a Jungle Tyrant. They killed each other." Mistress Yao's expression did not change, but her fingers tightened on the fur.

"You witnessed a battle between apex predators and survived?"

"I waited until it was over."

"Smart." She set the fur aside.

"I'll research this. Come back in two days, and I'll have an offer. In the meantime—" she counted out silver coins, "—ninety total for the identifiable goods. Fair?"

"Fair." The transaction completed, Wei Chen did not leave.

"My father. Did he ever speak of where he came from? What he was before?" Mistress Yao was silent.

"Your father was a careful man," she said finally.

"He never spoke of his past directly. But he asked questions that farmers don't ask. He recognized herbs that no villager should know. And once—" her voice dropped, "—when he thought no one was watching, he moved with the grace of someone who had trained in combat since childhood."

"Did you ever ask him about it?"

"No. I understood that his secrets were his own, and that respecting them was the price of his friendship." She fixed him with a steady gaze.

"You carry the same secrets, boy. I can see them in how you stand, how you breathe, how you look at the world as if it's a puzzle you're solving. Whatever your father was, you are becoming." Wei Chen said nothing. The warning in his mother's letter echoed: Tell no one where you are going. Speak of this to no one.

"I need to find a caravan to Dragon's Rest," he said.

"One that leaves soon." Mistress Yao accepted the deflection.

"Caravan Master Bo, who you arrived with—he's the most reliable. But he doesn't take passengers without purpose. If you want his service, you'll need to offer more than coin."

"I've already spoken with him. I'm one of his guards." The herbalist's eyebrows rose.

"Are you now?" She laughed.

"Your father would be proud. And terrified. The road to Dragon's Rest is not kind to the unprepared."

"I'm prepared."

"No one is prepared for what waits on that road. But some survive anyway." She reached beneath the counter and produced a small pouch.

"Dried ginger. For the journey. Your father always bought some before traveling." Wei Chen took the pouch.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Survive. Come back with stories worth telling." She turned back to her ledger, dismissing him. Wei Chen left the shop, the silver heavy in his pack, the ginger pouch tucked into his belt. The town square bustled around him—merchants calling, housewives bargaining, children chasing each other through the crowd. He walked through it all like a ghost, present but separate, divided from them by knowledge they could not imagine. The caravan would depart in two days.

Until then, he would gather supplies, gather information, and prepare. And somewhere in that journey, he would begin to understand what his parents had been hiding, and what it meant for the person he was becoming.