Five days had passed since Gù Tiānháo left Maplewood Town behind, and he had settled into an efficient traveling routine. Each morning, he rose before dawn, breaking his fast with a small portion of his provisions while packing his modest camp. By the time the first rays of sunlight crested the horizon, he was already on the road, moving with the steady, ground-covering pace of an experienced traveler. The days blended together in a rhythm of walking, brief rests, cultivation practice, and vigilant observation of his surroundings.
The landscape had gradually changed as he moved eastward, the familiar forests and rolling hills of Maplewood's province giving way to more open terrain interspersed with rocky outcroppings and occasional groves of ancient trees. The road itself had widened in some sections, evidence of increased trade between the larger settlements ahead. Yet Tiānháo had noticed something concerning—the number of fellow travelers had diminished over the past two days, with fewer merchants and almost no individual travelers like himself.
As he walked, Tiānháo's mind returned to conversations he had overheard in the Maplewood market before his departure. "Be careful if you're heading east," an older merchant had warned a younger one as they loaded goods onto a cart. "The bandits have grown bold these past months. Three caravans raided in the last moon cycle alone, and they're not just taking goods anymore.
" The younger merchant had scoffed, claiming his guards were sufficient, but the older man had shaken his head gravely. "These aren't ordinary bandits—some have cultivation. Travel in larger groups if you can, or wait for the next patrol from the city to escort you.
"At the time, Tiānháo had filed the information away as potentially useful but not particularly concerning for someone of his capabilities. Ordinary bandits would pose no threat to a cultivator at the 4th Level of Body Refinement, and even those with some cultivation would likely be at lower levels. Bandits with significant cultivation ability typically sought more lucrative targets than lone travelers, preferring merchant caravans or noble entourages with valuable goods.
Still, the warning echoed in his mind as he noted the relative emptiness of the road. Caution had kept him alive in this world thus far, and he would not abandon it now. He expanded his spiritual sense, pushing his perception outward to detect any hidden observers or approaching threats. The technique was still rudimentary—he lacked the Spiritual Sense that higher-level cultivators developed—but his enhanced awareness could detect disturbances in the natural Qi flow that might indicate concealed individuals.
Around midday, Tiānháo paused at a small roadside shrine dedicated to a local earth deity. 03 Such shrines were common along major roads, places where travelers could rest and make small offerings for safe passage. This one showed signs of recent use—fresh fruit offerings and incense ash—but no other travelers were present. He took the opportunity to refill his water skin from the shrine's small spring, known for its clean, sweet water.
As he rested in the shade of an old cypress tree beside the shrine, Tiānháo noticed something unusual—markings carved into the tree trunk, partially obscured by moss. Brushing aside the growth, he revealed a crude symbol: three horizontal lines crossed by a vertical slash. Below it were more recent markings—notches that appeared to be tallying something. He had seen similar markings near Maplewood, used by bandit groups to communicate with each other. This particular symbol, if he recalled correctly, indicated a territory claim.
The discovery confirmed his suspicions—he was passing through an area frequented by organized bandits, not merely opportunistic robbers. Such groups often had lookouts posted along major roads, watching for suitable targets and relaying information back to their main force. They might even have arrangements with corrupt officials or local powers, allowing them to operate with relative impunity in exchange for a share of their spoils.
Tiānháo considered his options carefully. He could leave the main road and travel cross-country, which would reduce the chance of encountering bandits but would slow his progress significantly and potentially lead him into territories with dangerous spirit beasts. He could continue as planned, maintaining vigilance and preparing for possible confrontation. Or he could seek to join other travelers for mutual protection, though that would mean adapting to their pace and potentially exposing himself to different risks.
After weighing the alternatives, he decided to continue on the main road but with enhanced caution. His cultivation level and combat experience gave him confidence in handling most threats, and the time saved by staying on the established path was valuable. However, he would adjust his routine—traveling during less predictable hours, including periods of dusk and early night when his superior night vision would give him an advantage, and selecting campsites with greater attention to concealment and defensibility.
As he resumed his journey, Tiānháo activated the Nine Mist Steps technique at a low level, not for speed but for silence. The technique allowed him to move with supernatural quietness, his footfalls barely disturbing the dust of the road. He kept to the shadows at the road's edge where possible, his senses extended to their limits, alert for any sign of observation or ambush. The weight of his hunting knife against his thigh was reassuring, as was the knowledge that his martial techniques had been tested against both beasts and humans.
The afternoon passed without incident, though Tiānháo spotted several more territorial markers and what appeared to be a recently abandoned observation post—a crude platform built into the branches of a tall tree overlooking a bend in the road. Whether the lookout had departed on rotation or to report a potential target, there was no way to know. Either way, it confirmed that this section of road was actively monitored by someone with ill intent.
As evening approached, Tiānháo deviated from his usual pattern. Instead of making camp at dusk, he continued walking as darkness fell, using his enhanced senses to navigate safely. He traveled for another two hours before finally leaving the road, backtracking slightly, and establishing a well-concealed camp in a dense thicket nearly half a li from the main path. The extra precautions meant a less comfortable rest—no fire, cold rations, and a more alert sleep—but the security was worth the discomfort.
Before settling in for the night, Tiānháo took inventory of his combat resources. His primary weapons were his martial techniques—the four movements of the Divergent Fist, the three movements of the Gale Palm, and the three movements of the Nine Mist Steps. Of these, he had mastered the first two movements of each technique, with partial proficiency in the third movements of the Divergent Fist and Nine Mist Steps. The fourth movement of the Divergent Fist—Mountain Shaking Fist—remained his most powerful but least controlled technique, to be used only in dire circumstances.
In addition to his techniques, he had his hunting knife—not a spiritual weapon, but well-crafted and suitable for close combat. He also carried several talismans purchased in Maplewood—simple constructs that could create brief flashes of light or smoke for distraction. His final resource was the Meridian Opening Pill he kept accessible in an inner pocket, which could provide an emergency boost to his Qi if needed, though at the cost of potential meridian damage if used improperly.
As he lay on his bedroll, eyes closed but senses alert, Tiānháo reflected on the irony of his situation. In his previous life as Alex Chen, he had been an ordinary person in a world where the greatest dangers were human malice and natural disasters. Now he inhabited a world where power was measured in cultivation levels and martial prowess, where spirit beasts and immortal sects existed alongside mundane threats like bandits and corrupt officials. Yet the fundamental challenge remained the same—survival required strength, intelligence, and adaptability.
The night passed in cycles of light sleep and alert wakefulness, Tiānháo's cultivator physiology allowing him to rest efficiently despite the heightened vigilance. No threats materialized, though distant howls and occasional tremors in the earth reminded him that dangers in this world came in many forms. By dawn, he was already moving, rejoining the main road at a different point than where he had left it, continuing his journey with the same measured pace but ever-increasing caution. The examination city lay still more than a week away, and the road ahead promised both opportunity and peril in equal measure.