Chương 16: The Caravan

Caravan Master Bo found him at dawn, squatting beside the communal fire with a bowl of porridge that had long since gone cold.

"You're up early," Bo observed, settling onto a supply crate.

"I don't sleep much."

"Cultivator thing?" Wei Chen looked up.

"Something like that." Bo nodded slowly.

"I knew your father, you know. Not well—we weren't friends. But we did business. Good business. He understood value, never tried to cheat me and never let me cheat him." He reached into his coat for a pipe.

"You're like him in some ways. Different in others."

"How am I different?"

"Your father was content. He found a place, built a life, accepted his limitations. You—" Bo lit his pipe, "—you're restless. The kind of person who looks at a horizon and sees a challenge." Wei Chen set aside his cold porridge.

"Is that a problem?"

"For a caravan guard? No. Restless people make good fighters. But for you, personally?" Bo exhaled smoke.

"Restlessness consumes. I've seen young men who can't stop moving, can't stop striving, who climb until they realize the ladder leads nowhere they want to be."

"I'm not climbing for its own sake. I have a destination."

"Aethelgard." Bo spoke the name casually, but his eyes were sharp.

"Your father mentioned it once. A place he'd never been but always wondered about." Wei Chen controlled his expression—heart rate steady, micro-expressions suppressed.

"It's a long journey."

"The longest. And the most dangerous." Bo puffed on his pipe.

"The road to Dragon's Rest is hard enough. Bandits, beasts, bad weather. But Dragon's Rest is just the beginning. Beyond it lies the Eastern Reaches, then the territories controlled by the Ashen Dragon Sect, and beyond that..." He shrugged.

"Few people from this kingdom have ever seen the Tianxian Empire. Fewer still have returned."

"I'll find a way."

"I'm sure you will." Bo stood, knocking ash from his pipe.

"But finding a way and surviving are different things. My caravan can get you to Dragon's Rest. After that, you're on your own." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"I understand."

"Good. We leave in an hour. Be ready." The caravan formed with practiced efficiency. Wagons were hitched, cargo secured, guards assigned to positions. Wei Chen took his place at the rear, his pack containing everything he owned: the sword, the jade pendant, his mother's map, the coins, supplies, and his translation notebook. The storage ring held the rest: beast cores, herbs, materials, the jade slip, and the Tyrant's core. They left Silverstream through the eastern gate.

The road beyond was dirt, well-maintained for the first few miles, then gradually deteriorating. Wei Chen walked behind the last wagon, practicing subtle exercises to strengthen his meridians and refine his qi control. The Walking Meditation technique allowed him to cultivate continuously. Each step became a breath cycle. By midday, the road had climbed into low hills covered in scrub forest. They stopped at a waystation—a stone well and a lean-to.

Wei Chen refilled his waterskin and ate dried meat while observing his fellow guards. Stone checked his weapons with obsessive care. Jen practiced drawing his bow in rapid succession, firing at a dead tree until the trunk bristled with arrows. A woman named Mara sat apart, sharpening curved blades with rhythmic strokes. They were competent. Professional. But they were not cultivators. Wei Chen's refined senses detected no qi circulation in any of them.

They were martial artists, fighters developed through training rather than spiritual advancement. They would be sufficient for bandits and ordinary beasts. But if the corrupted presence he had sensed two nights ago returned, or if something worse emerged, they would not be enough. He would need to handle threats they could not see. The afternoon passed uneventfully. The road wound through hills that grew steeper, the scrub giving way to denser forest as they approached the Thornwood.

The trees were shorter, gnarled, their branches heavy with thorns. The undergrowth was thick, choked with vines that made off-road travel nearly impossible. They made camp in a clearing used so many times the ground was packed harder than the road. Wei Chen took the second watch, from sunset to midnight. The forest was alive with sounds, but beneath them he detected something else—a faint vibration in the ambient qi, a disturbance suggesting movement through the deeper reaches.

Not the corrupted presence from before. Something different. Larger. He tracked it for two hours. Whatever it was, it was patient. It did not approach, did not attack, merely observed. When Jen relieved him at midnight, Wei Chen reported without embellishment.

"Something's watching us. Has been for hours. Doesn't seem hostile, but it's not natural." Jen's expression tightened.

"How do you know?"

"I can feel its qi. It's strong. Stronger than anything we've encountered."

"Should we wake Bo?"

"No. It's not attacking. If we show fear, we might provoke it. Better to act normal and be ready." Jen studied him.

"You're strange, village boy. But you're not stupid. I'll stay alert." Wei Chen slept for four hours. When dawn broke, the presence was gone. They broke camp in silence, the guards more alert. The road continued eastward, winding deeper into the thorn-choked forest. Wei Chen walked at the rear, his hand resting on his sword's hilt, his qi cycling in preparation for whatever the Thornwood might send against them.