The traveler’s presence had stirred something in the village.

It wasn’t often that someone from the outside world stayed longer than a single night, and though the villagers welcomed visitors, they rarely gave them much thought beyond trade. But this traveler was different. He wasn’t just selling spices or silk—he spoke of things beyond the village.

Shen Mu listened.

Standing near a shaded stall, he watched the traveler as he spoke with a group of men near the well. The man leaned on his cart, his straw hat tilted slightly upward now, revealing sharp but weary eyes.

“In the cities, it’s said the rivers run with light at night, lanterns stretching endlessly along the canals.” The traveler gestured with his hands. “The streets are wide, filled with merchants from all over, from the east where the winters never end, to the south where people ride beasts that tower over men.”

The villagers murmured among themselves. Some had heard bits and pieces of such stories before, but few had ever seen such things.

“Beasts that tower over men?” Old Chen scoffed. “I’ve never seen such a thing in my life.”

“You haven’t traveled far enough, friend,” the traveler replied with a chuckle. “In the Jade Plains, they ride beasts with long necks, creatures that can see over walls.”

A younger farmer leaned forward. “And what of the mountains? Is it true that people live there, beyond the cliffs?”

The traveler took a sip from a flask before nodding. “Yes. And not just people. Some say there are clans hidden deep in the mountains, places where the old ways have not changed in hundreds of years. I passed near one such place on my journey. They did not let outsiders enter, but the people in the neighboring village spoke of them in whispers. Of men who could leap over rooftops, of warriors who could move faster than the eye could see.”

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The crowd’s murmuring grew louder, but Shen Mu remained silent.

The traveler was not lying.

That was what unsettled him the most.

The man spoke casually, but his eyes held no trace of embellishment. If anything, his words were cautious, as though he knew more than he was willing to share.

Shen Mu watched as Uncle Huan, the village head, approached. The old man stroked his beard, his eyes thoughtful. “Stories of distant lands are always welcome, but tell me, traveler, what news do you bring of the roads?”

The traveler exhaled slowly. “Strange things have been happening.”

The tone of the conversation shifted.

The laughter faded. The villagers who had been eagerly leaning in now straightened their backs, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

“How so?” Uncle Huan asked.

The traveler ran a hand along the wooden edge of his cart. “Some roads have become… dangerous. Not because of bandits, but because of things people don’t understand. In one village, the crops withered overnight, and no one could explain why. In another, an entire river changed color for days, as if something had seeped into it from the mountains. And in the southern plains, people claim to have seen figures walking through the fields at night—figures that leave no footprints.”

A heavy silence followed.

The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke right away. Stories of the outside world were one thing, but unexplainable events were something else entirely.

Shen Mu’s fingers curled slightly.

This world was vast.

Far greater than what lay beyond the hills surrounding this small village.

And it was changing.

That evening, Shen Mu sat alone by the stream.

The village had settled into its usual rhythm again, but the traveler’s words still lingered in his thoughts.

His gaze drifted to the water. The surface rippled gently, disturbed only by the wind.

Slowly, he reached out, his fingertips hovering just above the water’s surface.

For a brief moment, he felt it.

Something deep, beyond what the eyes could see.

It was not the water.

Not the wind.

But something in between.

A force that had always been there, waiting to be noticed.

Then, as quickly as it came, the sensation was gone.

Shen Mu withdrew his hand. His expression remained unchanged, but his mind raced.

He was not wrong.

Something had shifted.

Something was waiting for him to understand it.