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Chapter 36 - The Waiting Game

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Zhujiao kept his head down as he moved through the crowds, heart still pounding. He’d been so distracted by his breakthrough that he hadn’t noticed the subtle Qi signatures of the two cultivators sneaking up on him.

Even once he had detected them, he had been further distracted by the newfound… depth, for lack of a better word, of his senses. The only thing he could compare it to was being able to pick out finer shades of colour than before.

The cultivator that had spoken had felt like deep-grey-stone, calm-rain-dusk, steady, while his friend’s Qi – and how he had known the two were friends he couldn’t explain – had flickered like amber-flame, sharp-glass-wind, restless.

It was an incredibly unsatisfying way of describing things. He was also starting to figure out why all the scrolls he had read sounded like bad poetry – it was actually shockingly hard to describe how Qi senses felt.

Even worse, something had shifted within his dantian when he had finally managed to compress his Qi into a liquid. What had changed, he couldn’t say, but there was undeniably something different about his dantian. Or his Qi. Or him.

Man, he really wished Lao Yi had stuck around for a little longer. He had so many questions.

Such as why the cultivators had tried to grab him. And how they had found him in the first place.

Though thinking further about it, he wasn’t entirely sure that they had tried to grab him. It was a logical enough conclusion, being as he doubted they were just casually roof-hopping for fun, combined with Lao Yi’s warning, but…

Well, he didn’t want to burn any bridges before he was forced to. Maybe next time, he could stick around long enough to at least ask a few questions and see how they reacted. After all, while he had managed to escape the Red Talons easily enough, he doubted it would be that simple to escape proper cultivators – and they hadn’t seemed to chase him.

It was starting to feel like the universe had it out for him personally – every time he started to find his footing, something else happened to disrupt it.

Zhujiao sighed, letting his awareness turn inward as he threaded his way through the crowd. His heart had finally slowed to a steady rhythm, but the tension in his body hadn’t fully left. He probed the space within himself, the familiar warmth of his dantian, though now… different.

He had been wondering if it were possible to regress in cultivation – if the only thing that qualified a cultivator as being in a higher Stage was the presence of liquid Qi, what happened to someone who used it all up?

Now, though, he understood.

Well, sort of, anyway. He might not know how dantian had changed, but it definitely had. Clearly, the amount of Qi wasn’t the root cause of advancement; it was more of a… symptom.

The single drop of liquid Qi in his dantian shimmered in the quiet, like molten silver resting at the core of his being. It pulsed faintly, diminished in size by his hurried escape, yet still vibrant. It felt heavier than he had expected, more solid than the restless wisps of Qi that still floated around it—faint tendrils of light that had not yet fully coalesced.

Like morning-mist, cold-water-dawn, smoke-fresh-growth, he thought, trying to wrap words around the sensation of his own Qi. Even the simple act of observing it had changed after his breakthrough. Before, it had been erratic, a chaotic mixture of energy buzzing aimlessly. Now, it had structure—a strange, undeniable solidity.

He could somehow taste the experiences that had shaped his cultivation. For the first time, he realised what Lao Yi had been talking about when he said that other cultivators would be able to tell he had practised the physical path.

Which was a problem.

Because not wanting to cause trouble with the other cultivators was not the same as there not being any trouble. And while he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he couldn’t bank on the next lot of cultivators to let him escape so easily.

Zhujiao rubbed his forehead, trying to piece together a plan. He had just managed to climb out of the slums, and the idea of going back felt like a bitter defeat. But it was the best option. The Red Talons were dangerous, sure, but they were predictable. He knew how to move around them, how to stay unseen. Cultivators were a different kind of predator, and right now, staying hidden was his best bet.

He cast another glance over his shoulder, scanning the crowd. The cultivators were gone, at least for now. But the nagging sense that he wasn’t out of the woods yet lingered in his gut. With a reluctant sigh, he turned his feet toward the alleys he had once called home. It was easier to slip between shadows in the slums, where everyone was hiding from something.

Back to the slums, then, he thought grimly. At least there, I know the rules.

***

Re-entering the slums was almost insultingly easy compared to how difficult it had been to escape.

It made sense, of course, but that didn’t stop it from annoying him. Part of it was because the Red Talons weren’t trying to stop him, but another part was how crowded the place was.

Zhujiao had assumed that the markets in the merchant district were crowded because everyone was worried, but he was now seeing that the slums were far worse. Even just the street he was currently walking down was teeming with people—families huddled together, their belongings piled in makeshift carts or bundled in cloth. The air was thick with the scent of too many bodies packed too closely together, mixed with the staleness of fear and desperation.

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He moved carefully through the narrow alleys, keeping his head down, eyes scanning the faces around him. Most were gaunt and tired, their eyes hollowed by sleepless nights and too many worries. They were newcomers, likely from the countryside, driven into the city by the plague. The same plague that was creeping closer every day, no matter how high the walls were or how many guards patrolled the gates.

I need to leave.

The thought echoed in his mind, bringing with it a mix of dread and resolve, but there was no denying it. The simple fact of the matter was that there was no future for him in the city, no matter how much he wanted to cling to the familiar.

Between disease, the gangs finally getting a hold of him, or attracting some altogether more dangerous attention from the cultivators, something was going to be the end of him here.

Not to mention… what reason did he have to stay?

He didn’t have any friends, he didn’t have a job, and his master had wandered off to lands unknown. There was nothing holding him down.

Zhujiao thought back to the view from the rooftop, the city stretching out in front of him, and the untamed wilds further than that.

There was a whole world out there that he could explore, a world right out of the pages of a book! He’d read scrolls talking about floating mountains, ancient Spirit Beasts roaming the land, and the trade cities of Yinghuo and Baigang, where the streets were said to be paved with gold and jade.

Suddenly, more than anything else, he wanted to explore.

Maybe it was lingering euphoria from breaking through, maybe it was just that a little more of the taint from the physical path had worn off, but for the first time in a long time, Zhujiao looked at his future and felt excited.

***

Unfortunately, optimism wouldn’t pay the bills, and if Zhujiao wanted to leave the city he needed money and information. Namely, information on where to go once he actually left – it would be the height of irony if he were to finally start his grand adventure, only to run directly towards a town devastated by plague.

His more immediate need was, as always, money. Notably, a significant amount of it – not only would he need to buy supplies, but chances were good he would have to organise transport out of the city itself.

Once on the road, he was at least reasonably confident in his hunting abilities – Wei might not have been the most verbose of teachers, but the guy knew his stuff. Zhujiao blinked. Between the taciturn hunter and the chaotic Lao Yi, he was starting to notice a pattern of non-standard teachers.

Probably nothing.

As for his money situation… he needed the sorts of funds that he wouldn’t be able to get working a job. Especially as he couldn’t get a job in the first place. No, the route to freedom lay in the... less-than-legal. And if he was going to steal from anyone, it may as well be the people who were already after him; the Red Talons.

In truth, Zhujiao knew that he was once again being reckless. Whether the influence of his aborted attempt at the physical path, or just good old-fashioned impatience, he didn’t know – but right now, it didn’t matter, either. As a jobless orphan, he simply didn’t have any options but bad ones.

At least this way, he wasn’t making any new enemies, and if things worked out, he would be able to neatly escape the fallout by fleeing the city.

Really, he was just providing further incentive for himself.

Zhujiao started looking around for the nearest easy access to the roofs. It hadn’t stopped the cultivators from finding him, but it had worked well enough to keep him away from the city guards. He saw no reason why it wouldn’t work again here.

But finding a spot that wasn’t already crowded or suspiciously open was turning out to be more of a challenge than he anticipated. Literally every alleyway he found was already claimed by people, most of whom looked at him with narrow-eyed suspicion.

The situation in the city was deteriorating faster than he had thought.

His eyes caught on a narrow stack of crates propped against a dilapidated building wall at the mouth of an alley. There were people in the alley, and it was visible from the street, but at this point, Zhujiao was beginning to realise that unless he went very far out of his way, it was the best he was going to get.

Besides, even if people saw him get on the roofs, that didn’t mean they would be able to see where he went after that.

He made his way over, keeping his movements deliberate but unhurried. If he acted like it was nothing unusual, chances were no one would question him.

Several people nearby glanced at him, eyes lingering just long enough to make him uncomfortable. But no one said anything as he hoisted himself onto the first crate, testing its stability before pushing off to the next.

“Just don’t break your neck,” an old woman muttered as she passed, her bundle of belongings clutched tightly to her chest. Zhujiao gave a half-hearted chuckle, more to diffuse his own tension than anything. His fingers gripped the edge of the roof as he made the final pull, muscles straining with a reminder of the long day he’d had. Finally, with a grunt, he swung himself up and crouched low, resting a moment before moving.

From up here, the slums sprawled out below, a chaotic tangle of narrow streets and makeshift homes pressed together in a way that made him feel vaguely claustrophobic.

He took a moment to orient himself, eyes tracing the more direct path to the warehouse where the Red Talons kept most of their stolen goods.

He padded quietly across the rooftops, keeping an eye on the streets below. It was impossible to avoid every Red Talon enforcer; the slums were their territory, and they moved through it as if they owned every inch. Zhujiao spotted a pair of them lounging against a wall, sharing what looked like a bottle. They weren’t looking his way, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a problem. He made a mental note of their location and adjusted his route to give them a wide berth.

Moving across the rooftops was almost as easy as in the nicer parts of town, though he did have to move more carefully for fear of rotting timber giving way under him. The streets were packed enough that it was inevitable that a few people would notice his passing, though no one shouted or pointed him out.

Zhujiao couldn’t help but notice a few intrigued faces and winced. It was possible that he had inadvertently started a new trend – he wouldn’t be at all surprised if more people began taking to the roofs to avoid the crowds.

Another group of three passed through a nearby alley, their crimson armbands unmistakable in the fading light. Their conversation carried upward, but Zhujiao couldn’t make out the words—just the sharp, impatient tones that suggested orders or threats.

It wasn’t until they were already past him that he noticed the slight glow of a rod – the same kind that they had used to track him. This one was significantly dimmer than the last and was flickering weakly.

Zhujiao froze, expecting the worst, but the enforcers seemed more interested in arguing with each other than paying attention to the rod. He was confused for a moment before realisation set in – with this many people flooding into the slums, it would be all but impossible to track a single person.

Especially when relying on an inaccurate method like the one they had. Not to mention that Lao Yi had said the pill’s signature would wear off in a few days. It hadn’t been quite that long, but maybe breaking through had made some kind of difference?

Zhujiao didn’t have enough information to be sure. Still, this seemed to be one of the rare cases where everything was working out in his favour, so he wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. He set off once again, taking extra care to avoid attention.

When he finally arrived at his destination, the sight left him frowning. The warehouse loomed in front of him, its structure larger and more imposing than most others in the area. The real problem, however, was the gap.

The nearest rooftop was several meters away, far too wide to leap across without drawing unwanted attention or risking injury.

Zhujiao crouched low, his eyes tracing the outline of the warehouse. From his vantage point, he could see most of the building, but the open space around it made any direct approach dangerous. He’d hoped for a way to get onto the roof, but with no nearby buildings close enough, he was going to have to settle for watching from a distance.

Not that he minded. Rushing things never worked out, especially not with the Red Talons. It would probably also be a good idea to figure out how he was going to leave town before he did anything that would attract more attention.

He let out a breath, settling down more comfortably on his roof and making sure he wasn’t easily visible from the street.

He’d wait. He’d watch. And when the time was right, he’d be ready.