Dawn had barely broken when Chen Mo stepped outside, the village still cloaked in a soft mist. His pack was secured, hunting gear in place, and his silver carefully counted and tucked away. Today, he would accompany Chief Young on the journey to the county city—a trip he had waited months for. Each step was deliberate, his mind calculating, his senses alert.

  The road stretched ahead, winding through the familiar forests before opening into the rolling hills. Along the way, Chief Young and a few veteran hunters discussed the week’s deliveries and the village’s affairs, exchanging news and lighthearted commentary. Chen Mo listened silently, absorbing both the chatter and the landscape passing by, estimating distances and noting safe paths and potential hazards.

  Hours passed. The sun climbed higher, and by midday, the group approached the high stone walls of the county city. Guards stood at the gates, inspecting those entering and leaving with careful scrutiny. Chen Mo’s eyes scanned the massive structure, the bustling activity spilling from within. Merchants shouted their wares, carriages clattered over cobblestones, and people jostled along the streets.

  Chen Mo’s gaze then fell on the engraved characters at the top of the gate. Lian County City. This time, he could read it clearly. A small thrill ran through him—literacy, hard-earned and practical, now opened yet another layer of the world before him. The panel hummed faintly in his mind, but he barely needed it; his senses and skills had grown sharper over the months, each point of progress tangible.

  The group moved through the crowded streets, the smells of roasted meat, fresh grain, and smoke mingling in the warm air. At the far end, a large wooden sign creaked above a broad doorway: Zhou Heng’s Trading House. Piles of salted meat, bundles of pelts, and stacks of grain lined the entrance, the shopkeeper busy but attentive.

  “Ah, Chief Young!” Zhou Heng greeted warmly, brushing his hands on his apron. “The old and young both well, I hope? And how was the week’s haul?”

  Chief Young chuckled, patting the bundles on his back. “Not bad at all. The hunters did well, and the villagers’ contributions were more than expected this time. You’ll find everything here in order as usual.”

  Zhou Heng’s gaze then fell on Chen Mo. Recognition sparked in his eyes. “Wait… Chen Mo? Is that…? From the village? You’re back!”

  Chen Mo inclined his head respectfully. “Yes, sir. I am here to accompany Chief Young again. I plan to stay in the county for a few days to assist with deliveries and settle some matters.”

  Zhou Heng’s eyebrows rose in surprise, clearly impressed. “A few days? I didn’t expect this. You’ve grown well since last time… Very well, I can find a modest place for you to stay—quiet, inexpensive, enough for a few days, but sufficient for your needs.”

  Chen Mo’s voice remained calm and respectful. “That will be perfect, thank you, sir. I require nothing more than a simple room to rest and prepare for my duties.”

  Zhou Heng nodded, smiling slightly. “Good. Come with me, then. We’ll set it up right away. And if you need anything while in town, let me know. Consider me at your disposal.”

  As Zhou Heng led Chen Mo through a narrow side alley toward the guest room, Chief Young patted him on the shoulder. “Take care, Chen Mo. Observe and learn, but keep your head low. The city is alive in ways our village is not—too much notice can invite trouble.”

  Chen Mo’s mind was already racing, calculating supplies, routes, and possibilities. “Understood, Chief Young,” he replied, voice steady. Inside, a small thrill ran through him: the county city again, his chance to move closer to the goals he had set for himself, all while remaining careful and unnoticed.

  Zhou Heng guided Chen Mo through a narrow side passage behind the main shop, leading toward the trade house’s backyard where apprentices and assistants usually stayed. “There’s an empty room deep in the back,” Zhou Heng said, gesturing toward a modest wooden door. “Quiet, safe, and out of the way. You can use it to sleep at night while you’re here.”

  Chen Mo inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

  Zhou Heng smiled faintly and excused himself. “I’ll leave you to settle in for now. Seek me by the end of the day—we’ll discuss your plans while you’re here. There are things you might find useful.”

  Chen Mo carried his few bundles of belongings through the backdoor and placed them neatly inside the small room. After a moment, he stepped out again, eager to observe the county city. The streets were alive with activity: bustling markets, merchants calling out their wares, beggars weaving through the crowds, elegant ladies examining cosmetics at stalls, and the rich scent of cooked meats and baked goods from the busy restaurants.

  Around midday, his stomach reminded him of the morning’s journey, and he slipped into one of the larger restaurants. The smell of sizzling braised pork belly wafted through the air, drawing him to a wooden table near the window. The dish arrived steaming, rich in flavor, tender and fragrant like nothing he had ever tasted in the village. Chen Mo felt a pang in his chest as he handed over fifty coins, a small fortune to him, yet the meal’s exquisite taste made the expense feel strangely justified.

  After finishing, he continued strolling, noting patterns, paths, and people of influence—all without drawing attention to himself. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Chen Mo returned to the trade house, ready to meet Zhou Heng and discuss his next steps.

  As evening settled over the city, Chen Mo returned to Zhou Heng’s trading house. The warm glow from lanterns spilling onto the cobblestones greeted him as he stepped inside. Zhou Heng motioned for him to sit, and after exchanging a few pleasantries about the day’s market bustle, they turned to the matter at hand.

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  “I can arrange a modest room for you,” Zhou Heng began, “not far from the shop, quiet, with a small fee you can manage. Or, if you prefer, there’s a larger quarter closer to the city center, but it would cost more.”

  Chen Mo nodded thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke with calm determination. “Thank you for the suggestions, sir. But… I did not come here merely for lodging. I need information—guidance, if possible—about the martial halls. How to approach them, how they operate… and how someone like me could gain entry.”

  Zhou Heng froze mid-motion, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at the young hunter. For a few moments, silence hung in the air. Then, slowly, Zhou Heng leaned back, studying Chen Mo with a newfound respect. “I see… I had suspected there was more to you than meets the eye,” he said carefully. After a long pause, he added, “Very well. Perhaps I can help. There are things I know… but you must be cautious. The world of martial arts is not as simple as it seems.”

  He hesitated again, weighing his next words, before finally deciding to speak. “I will tell you what I know, and we can explore your options… carefully.”

  Chen Mo nodded, listening carefully.

  “The first is Iron Fang Martial Hall,” Zhou Heng continued, “they specialize in heavy weapons and close combat—swords, spears, axes. Their fighters are strong and disciplined, and their blacksmiths are unmatched. You can find their training grounds and forges in the western district. Many say their strength is straightforward but devastating in battle.”

  “The second is Silver Crane Hall,” he went on, gesturing eastward, “agile fighters, excellent with bows and light weapons. They control much of the eastern market streets and hunting supply trade. I… am affiliated with them, though I’m just a shopkeeper. My cousin works there as a servant, which gives me some minor insight. They are precise and strategic—able to turn the tide with speed and cleverness.”

  Chen Mo’s eyes flicked briefly toward Zhou Heng, noting the subtle pride and caution in his words.

  “Then there’s Jade Lotus Sect,” Zhou Heng said, lowering his voice. “They focus on internal martial arts, pressure points, and defensive techniques. They also run pharmacies, herbal gardens, and sell potions and remedies. Their power is hard to gauge from the outside—they’re respected, mysterious, and versatile. You never know what one of them can do until it’s too late.”

  Zhou Heng paused, letting the weight of the information sink in. “All three halls trade in similar industries—blacksmithing, medicine, some commerce—but each has its specialty. Which is the strongest? I can’t say. From my view, all three can be deadly in the right hands.”

  Chen Mo absorbed the words, noting the nuances of territory, trade, and influence. He didn’t speak, only listened, his mind already mapping streets, alleys, and potential opportunities.

  Zhou Heng finally spoke of the fourth force, a rogue element. “The Crimson Claw Gang operates in the northern district. Smuggling, extortion, underground fighting—they keep to shadows but are ruthless. Avoid them when you can, or at least be aware of where they control.”

  He leaned back and looked at Chen Mo. “That’s the lay of the land. Observe carefully, stay low, and remember: appearances can be deceiving. Power is not always obvious, and the city is alive with politics even beyond these four forces.”

  Chen Mo nodded, committing every detail to memory. He already knew he would need caution, patience, and observation to navigate this place. Outwardly courteous and reserved, inwardly, he calculated, prepared to take every step silently, letting no one guess the true depth of his abilities—or intentions.

  Chen Mo tilted his head, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “Master Zhou, if I wanted to join a martial hall, would I need a recommendation? Or some kind of special introduction?”

  Zhou Heng chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “In fact, it’s not that difficult. As long as you can pay the monthly fee—15 taels for my hall—the recruitment office won’t refuse you. You’re still young, and with my recommendation regarding your background, you could even enlist for a one-month trial.”

  He leaned back slightly, his gaze steady on Chen Mo. “From what I know, if you can sense blood and qi within three months, you’ll be officially recruited. Beyond that… the exact criteria are not always clear. Even I don’t know everything.”

  Chen Mo’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Then I suppose I’ll have to depend on Master Heng’s assistance.”

  Zhou Heng waved a dismissive hand, the corners of his mouth lifting. “It’s a small matter. Don’t worry about it. Focus on your training and observation first. Everything else can follow in due time.”

  Chen Mo nodded, inwardly marking the rules and limits of the system. Externally polite and respectful, internally calculating, he already began weighing the opportunities, the fees, and the paths to maximize his advantage without drawing attention.

  Chen Mo stood, bowing slightly in respect. “Thank you for your guidance today, Master Zhou. I’ll see you tomorrow at the recruitment office of the Silver Crane Hall.”

  Zhou Heng nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Very well. Rest early tonight, Chen Mo. Tomorrow will be an important step for you.”

  “Good night,” Chen Mo replied, turning toward the back of the shop where his room awaited, his mind already running through the plans for the next day. The city was vast, the halls were many, and each step would need to be measured—but tonight, for the first time, he felt a small sense of anticipation for what lay ahead.