The Next Day.

"Let's see, a suitcase packed with my clothes… check. A pouch containing all my money… check. An extra pair of footwear… check. ID and other related documents… check. An urn containing Mother's ashes… double check."

Standing in his bedroom, Wuzhi surveyed his travel preparations one final time. After confirming that everything was in proper order, he nodded his head.

"Right. Everything is in proper order. I suppose I can leave now."

Leaning forward, he fastened his money pouch to his waist, flung the rain-protection coat over his shoulder, closed his suitcase, and grabbed it alongside the urn containing the ashes. With everything in place, he turned around and left his bedroom.

Taking a few measured steps, Wuzhi arrived at the entranceway of his small, humble cottage where a pair of shoes and a large bamboo hat awaited him. Carefully wearing his footwear, he then equipped the bamboo hat, mounting it in a specific way so that the upper-part of his face –everything above his mouth– and his tied-up hair would be covered underneath its shadow.

Wuzhi directly left the cottage, closing the thatched wooden door behind him. He then walked up to the main gate, closed it shut after exiting, and locked it firmly with an iron padlock. After pulling on the padlock to ensure that it held firmly in place, he turned around and left.

Not once did Wuzhi stop to hesitate or look back.

---

Wuzhi's decision to leave Oakwood Town did not come suddenly. In fact, he had been waiting for this moment to come for a very long time.

While his words to Mayor Situ yesterday sounded full of uncertainty and vagueness, Wuzhi actually had a solid plan on what he was going to do and where he was going to go.

First, he had to make his way to Iron Cross City, situated some three hundred or so kilometres from here. There, he would go to the airstrip and mount an airship to leave this continent.

Wuzhi's destination after leaving the Isilda Continent (the name of the continent that he was currently in) was the South Aislu Continent. However, before he could go there, he had to make a stop at the North Aislu Continent in order to run a small errand.

That said, Wuzhi's travel plans were quite solid. Go to Iron Cross City > Mount an Airship heading towards the North Aislu Continent > Finish his errand > Mount a ship heading towards the South Aislu Continent > Arrive at his destination.

What he would do after reaching his destination was something to discuss in the faraway future.

Having said all that, Wuzhi did not begin his travels immediately. Before he could do that, there was one small stop that he had to make.

Arriving at the gates of a decently-sized manor, Wuzhi wore a smile before walking up to the guardhouse. The guard, a buff and expressionless man, scanned Wuzhi's figure from head-to-toe before making way and opening the gate.

Nodding at the guard, Wuzhi made his way through the familiar courtyard. All around him, he could see rare, exquisite flowers in full bloom. The colourful scenery, which was reminiscent of a canvas painting, was neatly arranged and expertly maintained. Rock gardens and fish ponds were littered around in perfect symphony, tying in the exquisite scene.

Had he not known better, Wuzhi would have completely believed that he had entered an immortal's garden.

Appreciating the sights and enjoying the sounds, he arrived at the manor's entrance. The towering main doors built from the finest wood that this continent had to offer were tightly shut.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Seeing this scene, Wuzhi could not help but break out into a grin. He then quickly wiped the smile from his face and proceeded to respectfully bow.

"With the funeral duties of my mother settled, I shall be leaving on my journey. I humbly ask for Teacher's blessing."

His request complete, Wuzhi remained bowing. The main doors of the manor remained shut and no sounds, except for the chirping of the nearby birds, were heard.

After a long, undefined period, throughout which Wuzhi maintained his impeccable manners, the doors of the manor creaked slightly open. A narrow crack was revealed and the reply that Wuzhi was waiting for finally arrived.

"I hope you die in a ditch and have your remains eaten by dogs!" A shrill, sonorous voice echoed.

Hearing that all-too-familiar reply, Wuzhi involuntarily let out a chuckle. He then straightened up, cast a glance at the narrow crack, and smiling replied, "Teacher's blessings are much appreciated. This Wuzhi will get going then."

Turning around, he left. There would be no more stops or detours until he reached the North Aislu Continent.

-

From within the manor, a tall and chilling figure indifferently watched as Wuzhi walked away. The figure continued to track Wuzhi's figure until he left the range of its eyesight.

Carefully closing the door, the figure then sunk into the shadows underneath its feet, disappearing from the foyer and appearing within one of the rooms inside the manor in an instant. There, it kneeled before a middle-aged man sitting behind a desk and spoke.

"Reporting to Master. Wuzhi has left the manor's premises."

Hearing his subordinate's report, the middle-aged man did not react as he continued to write away at his desk. After the passage of a few minutes, during which only the sound of a pen scratching against paper was heard, the middle-aged man spoke.

"Did you manage to leave a mark on that brat?" This middle-aged man's voice was the same voice that had cursed Wuzhi earlier. Unlike then, however, his current tone was shockingly solemn.

"This subordinate was unable to lock onto Wuzhi's figure much less leave a mark. This subordinate believes that it would be impossible to do so."

"Tch!" The middle-aged man clicked his tongue. He then stared down at his table and looked at the incomplete drawing of a man's face sprawled on its surface.

His fingers holding the pen continued to twitch, wanting to complete the portrait. However, he repeatedly hesitated. Try as he might, he simply could not remember the exact details of the face that were required to complete the portrait. No, the more he tried to force himself to recall, the vaguer and foggier grew the details inside his mind.

With a look of displeasure on his face, the middle-aged man threw the pen down on the table and gave up on finishing the portrait. Staring at the incomplete drawing, he resentfully muttered, "That damn brat's attainment in the [Information Path] has reached the [Hiding in Plain Sight] level. How frustrating!"

Grabbing the incomplete portrait, the middle-aged man crumpled it into a ball before throwing it in anger. Still unable to rid the frustration inside his heart, he asked his subordinate to retrieve the crumpled ball and proceeded to shred the paper into countless little pieces. Only after doing so, did he somewhat feel better.

Leaning back into his seat, he blankly stared at the extravagantly decorated ceiling of his office.

"If even I can't lock onto that brat without seriously trying, then those old farts playing 'King' behind the scenes shouldn't be able to do it easily either. It should buy that brat enough time to prolong his death," he quietly muttered. A warped smile then appeared on his lips as he continued, "As hateful as that brat is, I must admit. I did an excellent job in choosing an appropriate person to pass on my heritage."

"Requesting Master. Should this subordinate instruct the Lurkers to protect Wuzhi?" the kneeling figure asked.

"Bah!" scoffed the middle-aged man. "I was sincere when I cursed him to die a dog's death. For such a twisted brat to die an early death would be a blessing for this world."

Turning to look at his subordinate with a watchful eye, the middle-aged man instructed, "I have secluded myself from mortal affairs and I have no intention of going back on my decision. Be it rain or storm, I refuse to partake in any of it."

"Besides, what that brat plans to accomplish is the height of folly! Why would I bother wasting resources on a venture that is set-up to fail and a fool who is destined to die a cruel death?"

Casting a weighty glance at his subordinate, the middle-aged man barked, "Never speak of this ever again. That brat is neither my son nor my disciple. His fate has no connections to my own."

The kneeling subordinate trembled. "This subordinate understands. I shall never speak of this ever again."

"Good," the middle-aged man nodded his head. "Now, tell me this. Did Lady Nalan accept my dinner invitation for tonight?"

The middle-aged man blinked his eyes in rampant expectation.

Hearing this question, the kneeling subordinate started internally sweating. His eyes wandered desperately around the room before he began hesitantly speaking. "This– About this, Master. This subordinate…"

Ever the faithful servant, he began wording his response in a way that would hurt his master the least.