Kan twisted behind Sezha for a better view of the walls of Cheng-Kai. He couldn’t help but chuckle with fondness. “We’ve made it. . .” His words trailed off. With the festival in full bloom, the city looked more impressive than ever. More specifically, its walls.

The impressive feat of stonework swept out to the north and south. All along its length, rectangular towers with curved roofs rose, black-and-gold banners dancing to the wind down the side of each one. From within the walls, the tiled roofs of even taller towers peeked out.

But there was something different about the city. Small and large tents alike were pitched outside of the great walls of Cheng-Kai. Unkempt men with blades on their belts wandered to and from tents, carousing without a care in the world. Some bore the insignias of notable mercenary companies, while others seemed to be on the independent side. They were here for the festival, no doubt. But what value was there in the undisciplined and unruly? There wasn’t likely a single proper divine artist among the trash.

Sezha was glad they were outside the walls. At least his father still had that much sense left in him. Still, gathering mercenaries and soldiers en masse was unlike the way the Kyu Family conducted business. He couldn’t think of a single decent reason why the patriarch of the Kyu Family needed to field a personal army.

Kan’s eyes were glued on the scantily-clad women who called out to Sezha from the side of the road.

“Why are they dressed like that?” she asked, blushing slightly. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Just ignore them,” he said, the corners of his lips tugging upward. “They’re working right now.”

Kan cocked her head quizzically. “What do they do?”

“It’s complicated,” Sezha said all-knowingly. “But let’s just chalk it up to them making men feel better about themselves.”

As the lone horse and its two riders ambled down a paved road toward the city gate, a guardsman clad in the Kyu colors of black and gold stopped them. “Halt!” he commanded, raising a ringmail-gloved hand. “By order of the Kyu Family, all mercenaries not associated with the Grand Union are not allowed within the city limits.”

“I’m not a mercenary,” Sezha replied, though he must certainly look the part. “Do you not recognize your young master?”

The guard squinted at Sezha, then hastily stepped to the side. “Apologies, young master.”

“Send men to Roosterhead Village to retrieve the rest of the purebloods,” Sezha said to the guardsman before directing his steed through the tower-flanked gate. The guardsman bowed.

Market stalls lined the broad road into the city on both sides. From daggers and swords to fresh fruits, there was nothing a shopper couldn’t find on the market road. But the economic lifeblood of Cheng-Kai didn’t stop just there. Nearly every district of the city had its own variety of stalls and booths.

“What do you think?” Sezha had to shout to ensure his voice was heard over the racket. “Out of all the cities in the Lowlands, it sees the most silver pass through its walls. Naturally, this means Cheng-Kai is the most secure city as well.”

He looked back at Kan. She held her hands over her ears. It was only natural for Kan to be at unease, he thought. The crowd on the street alone was probably the most people she had seen in one place before. It wasn’t all too dissimilar to his first reaction to a large city.

Sezha noticed a patrol of guardsmen watching over the ground, scowls plastered over their faces and their hands on the hilts of their cudgels. Although since the Kyus came into power, Cheng-Kai had seen a dramatic increase in recruitment for the guard, they were always good-natured with the people. Perhaps the fact that an army of gold-thirsty mercenaries was on the other side of the walls dampened their moods. He didn’t blame them. Sezha would be as well if he was in their position.

Kan’s gaze drifted to the foreigners who stood out from the crowd. They wore robes of odd design and color. Their skins were of exotic shades. Some looked to be merchants, others just simple travelers.

The road soon forked out at the city square. An impressive-looking stage had been constructed, with a platform for the more distinguished personage overlooking it.

Sezha guided the pureblood around it. Despite some grumbles, the crowd parted for him. Anyone riding a highland pureblood was bound to be wealthy and powerful.

. . .

The inn he was currently staying at was small and discreet. Such characteristics made it a pleasant place to call home. However, it appears no matter where he stayed, his family would always know his exact location.

“Forgive me, young master,” the innkeeper said, wiping at the tears forming in her eyes. She was a plump woman with a round face who had a habit of overreacting. “I was sure to keep it a secret. You can ask my staff. No one heard a peep from me, I’m sure.” Her meaty fingers clutched a letter stamped with the Kyu Family insignia. “A servant asked me to pass this onto you, young master.”

Sezha relieved the innkeeper of the letter. There wasn’t a single crease or fold on it.

“Show my servant to her room,” Sezha said to the innkeeper. Behind him, he could feel Kan glowering at his back. She wasn’t fond of the title.

“Right this way, young lady,” the innkeeper said, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. She led Kan up the stairs to the second floor, leaving Sezha alone in the taproom. “Let’s get you situated, then we can put some meat on your bones,” was the last thing he heard the innkeeper say before their voices faded away.

Sezha carefully opened the letter.

Dearest brother. I regret to inform you that Father has caught on to your childish pranks. The winds are changing, brother. It’s time to mature. Return the purebloods to the estate at once. Having your presence grace our home tonight would please me. Signed, Kyu Moji, your beloved sister.

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There was no mistaking Moji’s handwriting. But it wasn’t like her to pen a letter for something so trivial. She could’ve easily gotten a servant to relay the message. His eyes lingered on her last sentence. She wanted to see him, obviously. But why? There was little sibling affection between them if any at all.

“A love letter?” Master Nara inquired. “With a pretty face like that, you must be quite the heartbreaker.”

Sezha started. “It’s nothing like that,” he snapped. “It’s from my sister.” In truth, he had little experience with the opposite sex. But the Prime didn’t need to know about that. The last thing he needed was more ammunition for her teasing.

He slipped the letter into a pocket in the inner fold of his coat. The thinking could wait until after he caught up to half a year’s worth of hot meals.

. . .

The innkeeper had recommended a restaurant a few blocks away from the inn, and similarly, small and discreet. But the food was promised to be filling and hearty, exactly what Sezha was craving. When he arrived there, the place was already half full. Though compared to the other restaurants on busier streets, the number of customers looked paltry.

"What can I get for you, young lord?" the proprietor of the restaurant asked, a wiry, middle-aged woman asked. She had a sharp mind, as she instantly judged Sezha to be a man of wealth, despite his lack of jewelry or fine robes. "Might I recommend the daily special? The black bean sea bass is held in high regard by our customers. We have a wide variety of drinks to offer as well. Would you like a list?”

“The daily special is fine,” Sezha said cordially. “I’ll have chilled wine to go with it and some fruit tea for the girl.”

Kan shot him a glare from across their table. “I’m not a kid.”

“Not happy with fruit tea?”

“I can order for myself,” Kan said, shaking her head. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

Before Sezha could formulate a response, a loud crash erupted from the front of the restaurant.

A man was doubled over at the door, hands on his knees and panting for breath. “Silvertongue’s been caught! They’re holding a procession on the market road!”

At once, the restaurant exploded into a flurry of activity. Customers dashed from their seats for the door, the proprietor cursing at them, waving her ladle. But her words fell on deaf ears. In a matter of seconds, the restaurant was virtually empty save Sezha and a few others.

Sezha frowned, his brows furrowed in thought. Silvertongue was a familiar name around Cheng-Kai. Compared to the usual brigand, he worked in more subtle ways. It was said his honeyed words could con a village out of their harvest right before wintertime. Utilizing his talents, he had gotten into the business of cults and formed a compound deep in the wilderness, far from the prying eyes of civilization. What was unforgivable was the number of young men and women he took with him. So far, none of the guardsmen sent by the Kyu to investigate returned to the city.

Kan grimaced. “Can we at least eat?”

“Later,” Sezha promised. “Trust me, I’m just as hungry as you are, but this might be interesting.”

“You watch yourself now,” the proprietor called after them as they left the restaurant together. “The streets haven’t been safe of late, young lord!”

Sezha slipped into the massive flow of people, but Kan struggled to keep up as she was jostled on all sides. He cursed under his breath and grabbed her arm before dragging her to the mouth of a nearby alley. There, they were blissfully free of the crowd.

“Can you climb?” he asked, his eyes glued on the tall, stone building adjacent to the alley. Time had worn the walls down to the point there were plenty of ridges in the stone.

Sezha grinned. He had scaled plenty of cliffs in the pocket realm, and they were even higher. His hands sought out knobs in the wall like second nature, his boots finding footholds with ease. Beneath him, Kan had no difficulty clambering up after him. It appeared she was no stranger to the art of climbing.

Without a bead of sweat on his chin, he pulled himself up to the tiled roof. He offered a hand to Kan, who had nearly come close to catching up. She accepted his hand and flashed him a toothy grin. So she could smile after all.

They settled in place, their feet dangling over the side of the roof. The crowd was too focused on the procession to notice the movement above their heads. Some fathers even had their children upon their shoulders.

The first of the procession came into view as they rounded a bend in the street, prompting ear-piercing cheers to erupt from the onlookers. The colorfully dressed musicians came first, the flowing melodies of flutes and thundering percussion blending together in tasteful harmony. Adults and children laughed and cheered alike in delight. It wasn’t often such parades occurred in Cheng-Kai.

Then came the ranks of soldiers. Their banner flew high above their gleaming helmets. A silver mountain displayed across a field of black, the insignia of the Ironblood Sect. A fearsome sight for criminals and brigands. Sezha could feel the faint pulse of qi from every one of the soldiers.

At the head of the soldiers was an unnaturally tall woman. She must’ve stood at least a head taller than Sezha, and the bulk of her muscles was apparent even under the layers of her fur robes. Judging from the torrential storm of qi brewing within her, she was the leader of the soldiers. It wasn’t uncommon for female divine artists to lead men as long as they had the strength necessary. And she most certainly did.

As the last of the soldiers rounded the bend, a wagon came ambling in view, drawn by four absolute giants of horses. At the center of the wagon was a large cage, and within it, Silvertongue. He was of average height, and his dark hair was streaked with silver. But even chained, his bold-featured face commanded respect from the awe-stricken crowd. This man wasn’t an ordinary sweet-tongued thief.

But awe quickly turned to fear and disgust as the onlookers realized he was just a criminal. Although they spat all manner of vulgarities and profanities at him, Silvertongue only threw his head back and laughed as if the crowd was telling him a funny joke and not calling for his immediate execution.

An elderly woman broke out from the crowd. Understandably, the soldier closest to her was hesitant to shove her back.

“Return my daughter to me, you bastard!” she screamed at Silvertongue, who only smirked. Even from his cage, he hardly looked defeated.

Silvertongue ran his fingers through and sighed. “You’ll never understand, old crone,” he mused as if talking to himself. “Your daughter, bless her soul, opened herself up to the truth, while you turn away from it.” He stood up to address the crowd. “Heed my words, you worthless ingrates! The end approaches, and the wolves will be separated from the cattle! Sleep easy now, but know that every transgression against me will be returned twice over!”

With his final sentence, hell broke loose. The crowd bulged forward, but the ironblood soldiers didn’t move an inch from their positions. With their spears raised in the air but not directed toward the civilians, they pushed them back from the wagon.

In the meantime, Silvertongue watched on with a wry smile. He reveled in the chaos his words caused.

“I don’t like him,” Kan murmured, clutching the cuff of Sezha’s coat with one hand and her sky-blue scarf with the other. “He reminds me of Taikim. . . but malicious.”

“Does this Taikim know where to find you?” Sezha asked. It occurred to him he still knew very little about Kan. “If he returns, won’t he be worried to find you missing?”

Kan shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming back.” She fell silent. It was clear that was all she had to say about the subject.

Without any more need for words, the two of them watched the procession fade from view.