Elder Wei did not see Tran Kien to the door. He merely stood upon the ebony staircase, his back perfectly straight, watching until the youth's silhouette was completely swallowed by the heavy doors. He offered no further words of advice. He knew that for a fledgling eagle, superfluous words held far less value than a vast, open sky where it could spread its own wings.
THUD.
The doors of the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Tomes closed behind Tran Kien. That deep, muffled sound was like the strike of a heavy hammer, completely severing the shelter and tranquility he had enjoyed for the past four months. He stood alone in the deserted, narrow alleyway. The morning sunlight shone upon his black wooden mask, unable to illuminate the expression hidden beneath.
He stood motionless for a long time. He was sensing it. Sensing the change.
No longer protected by the invisible, monumental walls of knowledge of the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Tomes, he could clearly sense the complex, swirling auras of Thanh Chau City enveloping him. There was the hustle and bustle of ordinary mortals, the arrogance of cultivators, the gloomy depth of factions hiding in the shadows, and... a few faint traces of killing intent, like venomous vipers lurking somewhere nearby, silently watching.
Tran Kien took a deep breath. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body circulated faintly, concealing his aura, making him appear as utterly ordinary as a pebble on the side of the road. He knew that from this moment forward, every single step he took had to be calculated with the utmost precision.
He did not immediately walk out of the alley. Instead, he went in the opposite direction, slipping into an even narrower lane before turning down yet another path. He meandered through the labyrinthine alleys of the southern district for nearly half an hour, occasionally stopping dead in his tracks within a hidden corner, holding his breath to listen. He was doing what any masterful hunter would do before embarking on a long journey: confirming whether any tails were following him.
Only after ensuring that no one was tracking him did Tran Kien completely alter his demeanor. He cast off his aura of profound mystery. Removing the mask and stowing it in his bag, he draped a tattered, hooded cloak—bought from a beggar—over his shoulders. He hunched his back slightly, his gait becoming hurried and somewhat timid. In the blink of an eye, he transformed from a Qi Guiding stage cultivator into an ordinary, impoverished youth struggling to survive in the big city.
This was the first lesson that the sea of books and his life-and-death encounters had taught him: the greatest camouflage is not concealment, but blending seamlessly into the crowd.
He did not visit any magical artifact shops or lavish taverns. He went straight to the western market, the most chaotic and crowded district. Using a fraction of the mortal currency Van Tam Thong had given him, he purchased some dry rations, a large waterskin, a needle and thread, flint, and a sharp little dagger. These were all absolute survival necessities for a long journey through the untamed wilderness.
Finally, he stopped before a stall selling old maps. He didn't ask for a map to Lam Kinh. He merely bought a detailed map of the entire Thanh Chau province, then requested an additional map charting the merchant routes to the neighboring western provinces. He played the part of a merchant caravan apprentice running errands, asking a few naive questions about the weather and the bandit situation. Every single movement was incredibly natural, devoid of the slightest flaw.
By the time his preparations were complete, the sun had reached its zenith. Tran Kien did not choose to depart through the western gate, the most direct route to Lam Kinh. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would be the most heavily guarded location. He circled back to the southern gate, mingling with a caravan of agricultural wagons preparing to leave the city.
As he passed through the city gates, his heart skipped a beat. He could sense several powerful Divine Senses silently sweeping over the flow of people. Some belonged to the city guards, some to the Azure Cloud Sect, and there was even one cold, sinister Divine Sense that felt completely familiar. The Black Dragon Stronghold.
Tran Kien lowered his head deeply. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body was suppressed to the absolute minimum, sinking into almost total stillness. He became like an inanimate stone—devoid of spiritual energy, devoid of aura, devoid of anything worthy of attention. Fortunately, those Divine Senses merely swept past him in a rush before moving on. They were likely searching for a Qi Guiding stage cultivator or a mysterious old man, not a scrawny countryside urchin.
Creak... Rumble...
The oxcart wheels slowly rolled past the city gates. The moment he stepped out from the shadow of the imposing walls, greeted by the radiant sunlight and the free winds of the outskirts, Tran Kien felt as though he had been reborn.
But he did not relax his guard in the slightest.
Once he had traveled a fair distance from the city, he broke off from the agricultural caravan and turned onto a narrow dirt path. He didn't head straight for Lam Kinh. He headed south. He planned to take an immense detour, traversing desolate wastelands and avoiding all major roads before finally altering his course westward.
He knew the hunt was far from over. The invisible nets cast by the major powers were still spread everywhere. He had to be more patient than the most famished wolf.
As the afternoon shadows lengthened, Tran Kien climbed a barren hill and took one last look back at Thanh Chau City. The colossal fortress stood tall amidst the plains, resembling a slumbering, primordial beast. But he knew that within the belly of that beast, countless eyes were wide open, relentlessly searching for him.
He tightly clutched the beast-skin map and the Sun Essence Guardian fragment hidden within his robes. It was a heavy burden, a crushing responsibility, but it was also his only path.
Elder Wei, rest assured. He silently promised. This seedling will not be so easily felled by the storm.
With that, he turned around without a shred of hesitation. His small but resolute figure melted into the descending twilight.
One man, one saber, one map, and a perilous journey of ten thousand li... had thus begun.