Although the walls of Duskwillow City came into view the moment they emerged from the shadowed depths of the Duskroot Wilds, the distance was quite long. By the time the city gates rose before them, evening had begun to paint the sky in bruised purples and muted golds. The walls themselves were thick and imposing, each stone a bulwark against the lurking threat of wild spirit beasts that prowled beyond the forest’s edge.

  The winter air carried a subtle chill, curling through their layered garments and pricking exposed skin. Lian shivered, drawing her coat tighter, while Xiao Lei’s eyes scanned the city gate with calm calculation.

  The guards, taking in their grime-streaked clothes and dust-caked faces, sneered with immediate disdain, likely mistaking them for mere beggars. One stepped forward, voice curt and sharp. “One spirit coin per person, or scram.”

  Xiao Lei didn’t flinch. From the small pouch at his waist, he produced two spirit coins, placing them deliberately in the guard’s palm. Only then did the gates swing open, the sound of hinges echoing through the stone corridors.

  Yet even as they crossed the threshold, the guard’s contempt lingered, heavy and palpable, pressing on them like a subtle warning.

  Inside, the city surged with life. The cobblestone roads were crowded, lined with wooden and duskwillow structures that caught the evening light in muted amber.

  Merchants called out over the clamour, carts rattled along uneven streets, and the scent of cooked food mingled with the tang of smoke and trampled earth. The wild hush of the forest was gone, replaced by a thrumming, ceaseless vitality that seemed almost alien to the two newcomers.

  Duskwillow City, true to its name, bore the mark of the duskwillow trees that grew plentifully in the nearby Duskroot Wilds. Their wood formed the bulk of the city’s architecture—shops, homes, and fences alike radiating a dusky brown glow in the fading light.

  Xiao Lei’s sharp eyes swept the crowds, moving with purpose through the tide of people, Lian’s small hand brushing against his for balance. Their goal was clear: an inn before night swallowed the streets entirely.

  Few options presented themselves, and the first inn they entered immediately drew the gaze of its patrons. The two children—clothes stained and tattered, the boy with a half-filled sack slung over his shoulder—stood out like misplaced shadows.

  The innkeeper’s frown deepened, about to command someone to remove the intruders, when one of his servants stepped forward, spitting insults as he grabbed Xiao Lei by the collar.

  Time constricted. Xiao Lei’s gaze met his, and horror spread, weightless and absolute, as if he had fallen into nine hells at once. His fingers stiffened; sweat broke across his brow despite the chilly evening.

  Before he could retract his grasp, Xiao Lei seized his hand and twisted with precise force. A crack split the air—the servant’s wrist shattered, his cry echoing across the beams. Yet Xiao Lei’s grip did not falter.

  His gaze swept the inn, slow and deliberate, finally landing on the innkeeper. The man’s face, drained of colour with stunned disbelief, sweat dripping into his collar, was rooted in place. With controlled, fluid strength, Xiao Lei propelled the injured servant forward. A heavy thud resounded as the man collided with the wall behind the innkeeper, a mixture of blood, wood, and stunned silence marking the impact.

  The room fell completely still. Every eye was drawn to the two children, yet none dared move, as if the very air around them carried the weight of unspoken threat.

  Lian, clutching her sleeves, shrank slightly behind Xiao Lei, but even her heart pounded—not just fear, but a trembling awe at the power he commanded.

  In that still moment, Duskwillow City’s bustling hum became distant, muted, replaced by the sharp clarity of power, calculation, and control.

  The innkeeper didn’t dare glance back at the servant sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain behind him. His mind raced, heart hammering. Xiao Lei approached, each step measured, precise, suffused with lethal authority.

  He managed a strained bow, teeth clenched against the tremor in his voice. “Esteemed guest… I—” His words stumbled, swallowed by the weight of the moment. Gratitude to his ancestors surged through him; he knew he had narrowly dodged calamity.

  He forced a strained smile, keeping his voice steady. “I apologize for earlier. It is entirely my fault—my failure in teaching my servants properly. I will punish him, rest assured.”

  Xiao Lei ignored the flattery, the bowing, the bootlicking. “A room,” he said, voice quiet yet carrying an unspoken edge that demanded compliance.

  The innkeeper hurriedly nodded, bowing again. “Of course! I have a fine room with a beautiful view, and for esteemed guests such as yourselves, I will offer a fifty percent discount—just one spirit coin per night.” Relief washed over him, though his fingers remained white around the edge of the counter.

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  Another servant, face pale and eyes wide with dread, stepped forward to escort Xiao Lei and Lian through the bustling inn. Only once the pair had disappeared down the hall did the atmosphere relax; murmurs rose among the patrons, speculation and apprehension mingling as they whispered about the strange, commanding boy who seemed far older than his years.

  Inside the room, Xiao Lei immediately issued his next instruction. “Order food.” Lian nodded silently, still tense, and scurried to obey as he moved to wash himself. The water ran over him, sweeping away the grime and dirt of the forest, and when he reemerged, he appeared as a polished youth, almost unnervingly handsome.

  Lian’s stomach fluttered with admiration—but her relief was short-lived. His eyes—cold and unreadable—reignited the fear beneath her brief comfort. She quickly darted to wash herself, her movements precise but hurried, returning to the room after a few moments.

  The food arrived, fragrant and warm, a stark contrast to the raw, earthy scent of the forest. Xiao Lei began eating immediately, his movements deliberate and unhurried, claiming the dishes with a quiet authority.

  Lian joined quickly, wary he’d claim it all first before she had the chance to fill her stomach. The two ate in a tense rhythm, the silence of the room punctuated by the clink of utensils and the occasional murmur of satisfaction.

  Soon, the plates were cleaned completely. Lian let out a small, almost shy burp, and a faint, reminiscent warmth touched her chest. She felt a flicker of the old comfort she had known when her grandfather had been alive.

  A small tear pricked the corner of her eye, unbidden, as she rose to prepare for the night on the floor; the single bed in the room was clearly intended for Xiao Lei.

  Xiao Lei watched her silently, noting the subtle slump of her shoulders and the quiet resignation in her posture. Only once she had seated herself on the floor did he speak. “Sleep on the bed.” Without waiting for her response, he rose and left the room, his presence gone but the weight of his words lingering in the air.

  Lian paused, glancing at the doorway, ensuring he had truly left. Then she slowly approached the bed, climbing onto it with a mixture of hesitation and quiet defiance.

  “Hmph,” she muttered under her breath, cheeks flushed. “Trying to be nice now, so he can earn rewards from my father, I bet.” The words were bitter but softened by a trace of admiration and gratitude she refused to admit even to herself.

  The room fell into stillness, broken only by the faint rustle of sheets and the settling of night. Outside, the city hummed quietly, but within that small room, a fragile truce of trust and power had taken root between the two children—a delicate balance of dread, respect, and the unspoken bonds of survival.

  ?? — ? — ??

  Lanterns flickered in the evening breeze, casting long shadows that shifted with the crowd, echoing the careful patterns of his own thoughts.

  Xiao Lei moved through the crowded streets of Duskwillow City with a calm so absolute it was almost unnatural. His small frame weaved between merchants and townsfolk as if he were part of the drifting air, a shadow in plain sight.

  Those who weren’t paying attention might have missed him entirely, even if he emerged directly in front of them. This subtle invisibility wasn’t deliberate—it was instinctive, honed over more than four months of living in the Duskroot Wilds, where silence and subtlety meant survival.

  He was nearly eleven now. Yet his presence carried the quiet precision of someone far older, tempered by the raw edge of the wilderness.

  A pang of unease flickered across his heart. His mind wandered briefly to Liora. How had she fared in these past four months? The thought lingered only for a heartbeat. Then it was drowned by the familiar, cold fire buried deep inside him.

  He exhaled sharply, letting the anger steady his mind, and turned his attention to the bustling streets ahead, scanning for a shop where he could offload unnecessary materials and jade slips.

  His thoughts inevitably drifted to the puppy, whose earlier intrusion had made Xiao Lei’s mind feel dangerously transparent. At first, the creature had mocked him mercilessly, reading his every thought, exposing weaknesses. The risk had been immense—so Xiao Lei had begun to develop mental shields, methods to keep the pup from probing too deeply.

  He remembered the languages of his past life. Countless tongues, learned and perfected over years. Finally, he hit upon one that proved nearly impervious. A rough regional dialect from his father’s homeland, crude and harsh, was incomprehensible to the puppy.

  When he silently formed thoughts in that language, almost ninety percent of what he considered safe was cloaked. The pup had growled in frustration, then gone silent, unwilling to speak again until he could coerce the boy to teach it the new tongue.

  A few moments later, Xiao Lei discovered a modest store tucked between larger, more imposing shops. He entered swiftly, his movements unhurried yet precise. Inside, he traded jade slips and other materials with a practiced hand.

  By the time he emerged, the half-filled sack was nearly empty, replaced instead spirit coins—nearly five hundred in total. A modest fortune for someone his age.

  He had kept only one slip, a simple cultivation technique suited for Mortal Vein practitioners, intending it for Lian. She would need the skill to defend herself; otherwise, she would remain a liability, a burden he could not afford.

  He purchased a beginner’s guide to alchemy and a small assortment of herbs for her practice. The coins in his pouch dwindled to four hundred and fifty, but it was an insignificant price for laying the foundation of her self-reliance.

  “Seems like you already have a plan to keep the girl,” the puppy’s voice finally echoed in his mind, cutting through his thoughts with its usual teasing undertone.

  “I have my ways,” Xiao Lei replied, firm and unyielding. The pup pressed him further, asking again to teach the language, but he ignored the entreaty.

  His mind was occupied with another puzzle: how to secure Lian’s loyalty. Fear could only bind someone temporarily; gratitude, forged when one offers aid in moments of true desperation, could root allegiance far more deeply.

  That was why he had waited, letting her nearly collapse on the floor before speaking, allowing her hope to flicker just enough to bind her to him.

  He had contemplated multiple ways to keep her by his side. Each method differed in approach, yet the outcome remained the same: success. A plan had taken shape, layered with precision, patience, and calculation.

  He would shape the path she walked, guiding her reliance not with coercion, but with necessity and trust, ensuring she could never truly walk away.

  The city bustled around him, the moon already glimmering in the sky, yet Xiao Lei’s mind remained distant, focused on the delicate architecture of human loyalty and survival.

  Even amidst the clamour of Duskwillow City, he moved silently, his hands brushing the coins in his pouch, weighing each one as carefully as the next steps in the intricate game he had begun.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.