The desperate often clutch fortune to their chest, blinded by the simple smell of copper coins. To them, it reminds of hope, a scent distinct enough that it blinds their senses to the blood that follows closely behind.

  Feng Han scurried through Eternal Flame City's narrow backstreets, clenching a small coin pouch tightly as if it were the most precious jewel. For him, it wasn't about the wealth, but the meaning behind it, the meals he could have and the comfort he could offer to his sisters.

  It was a thief's burden to bear, even when the end was breathing down his neck; every opportunity had to be grasped. His long black hair whipped behind as he ducked and weaved through the bustling roads, filled with people and carts. He had to push his body to its limit to escape toward the outskirts at the furthest edge of the slums.

  Feng Han's heart raced, each thud, each bead of sweat rolling down his back, each distant echo of his pursuers' footsteps heavily slamming against the dirt roads a reminder of the fuckup he made.

  Whether brave or foolish, nobody could know. Behind him, men chased with killing intent, bristling with frigidness that caused the masses to cower to the sides. Feng Han always learned his lessons the hard way. Whether he was whipped, beaten, or chased for hours. Still, this time the lesson was a grave one.

  There were no excuses to be made, no second chances to amend, no forgiveness to beg for. Feng Han was foolish enough to pickpocket a disciple of the Frozen Flame Sect—even if he was unaware of the man's identity despite the emblazoned robe he wore, it was still an unacceptable thing to do.

  Feng Han glanced back, his eyes scanning the growing distance between him and the men. They were fast; they had to be. But they didn't know the streets as well as a street rat born and raised in them.

  Why are cultivators going mad over some coins? Fuck. Did their pride get wounded?

  Fuck. Why was the man's robe different? If you belong to a sect, represent it!

  Feng Han's frantic thoughts swirled with annoyance and confusion. He had spent his life in Eternal Flame City and knew all the powers spread throughout. Even the visitors from afar had a unique bearing; he knew how to avoid them.

  Can a cultivator have the bearing of such a clueless pauper in this world? Dammit!

  The man had been reckless, clueless, walking through the crowd with his wealth on display. It was something Feng Han could not resist.

  How depressing...

  Feng Han sighed, shaking his head free of the straying thoughts assaulting him. He shifted his weight to his right foot, swerving down a narrow alley. He leaped over the slop buckets littering the floor, forcing his steps to fall as silently as possible.

  Despite his efforts, Feng Han's foot caught against a street beggar's rotted beast hide blanket, and he tumbled forward loudly.

  Slop buckets flung across the packed dirt road, rattling the beggar awake, who screamed, "You sick bastard! Is your whore mama a rooster to raise such a loud chick?"

  His hazy eyes, polluted with addiction, hadn't even registered Feng Han. The man merely cursed out of habit. Unfortunately for Feng Han, his furious scream alarmed the pursuing cultivators.

  Feng Han glared icily at the bum, his eyes dripping venom. "You're lucky..." he muttered quietly before rushing out of the alley and fleeing deeper into the slums before the men could find him.

  He may not have remembered his mother, but the words still stabbed into the depths of his chest. If I ever meet you again, I'll show you.

  After Feng Han had left, as the bum was getting comfortable in his makeshift blanket once more, a dozen robed men stormed into the alleyway.

  Besides the man at the back, the rest wore the trademark black robe emblazoned with dual-colored flames of blue and red, signifying their status as disciples of the Frozen Flame Sect.

  The man at the back wore a simple violet robe. His hair was tied into a topknot, secured by a golden hairpin adorned with a carved flame at its flat end—while his companions were far more casual in comparison. They wore high ponytails and their robes were loose, giving them a freer and more rugged appearance.

  "Where's the rat?"

  "Dammit, he's so slippery!"

  "Did nobody see where he went? He couldn't have vanished!"

  They turned back, looking at the leading man apologetically. "Sorry, Boss Han Lie!"

  Han Lie smiled at them, his clear eyes and sharp, dignified face offering them comfort despite the heavy burden on their shoulders. "Keep searching—"

  The barrage of noise disturbed the beggar yet again, causing him to rise to his feet, slamming his foot against one of the slop buckets and sending a slurry of liquid across the forefront disciple's feet.

  "Why the hell are you bastards screaming again? Does no one respect their seniors anymore?"

  Han Lie scowled at the mangy man's uproar. "Shut him up."

  "Yes, Boss Han Lie!"

  The disciples surrounded the bum, their anger palpable in the air. One jolted forward and struck the man in the pit of his stomach with his foot. "Silence your dirty mouth, beggar."

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  "What the fuck did you say to me?" the beggar spat through missing teeth and bile. "Suck on your mama's teats and get the hell out of my home!"

  "You're courting death," the disciple barked before lifting the beggar by the collar and pressing him against the stone wall. He raised his free hand, forming a small two-inch blade of yinfire qi aimed at the beggar's throat. "You want to say that again?"

  The beggar's eyes bulged, clarity returning to his muddled mind as he stared at the disciple's cold grin and perfectly white teeth. He felt the cold prickle of qi against his flesh, and immediately he groveled, "Lord Cultivator, please forgive me!"

  Wei Shen sneered. "Have you seen a street rat running through here?"

  "Ah," the beggar gasped. "Yes, yes. I did see a boy rush that way..."

  He frantically pointed towards the end of the alley where the path curved toward the inner slums and the city's outer walls.

  "Let's go," Han Lie said, walking leisurely in the direction the bum pointed. "Clean up first."

  Wei Shen grinned, "Sure thing, Boss Han Lie!" He stabbed his finger through the beggar's mouth, eliciting pained gurgles from the man as he dropped to the ground.

  Feng Han had hoped for the beggar's demise, but he'd never know just how that desire came to be mere minutes after he left the alley.

  He continued running, weaving in and out of the outer districts. Streaming water rushed beneath him as he ran across a sturdy bridge, moving past the Dragon Scale River that ran throughout the city.

  I don't hear them... Did I lose them?

  He spent another quarter of an hour dirtying his tracks before turning into a labyrinthine maze of back alleys that led to his home.

  "It's gonna take more than that to catch me," Feng Han scoffed as he exhaled a sigh of relief. If there was one thing he was confident in, it was his methods of escape.

  ...

  Elsewhere, the cultivators trudged through the streets, their fury blatant as the masses made themselves as small as possible to avoid their eyes. Cultivators were rarely seen in Eternal Flame City's backwater districts—the slums, especially—and if they were, it heralded disaster for those who lived there.

  They had lost sight of Feng Han, and the few tracks that they found only took them in circles.

  Han Lie stopped, arms crossed, as he gazed out at the impoverished masses moving about aimlessly. "Even if you have to burn the entire district to ash, find him. You have a day, Wei Shen. Don't disappoint me."

  "Understood, Boss Han Lie!" Wei Shen replied. He slammed his fist against his chest, his large and dependable figure radiating with righteous pride as he nodded excitedly.

  Han Lie walked off alone, hands behind his back. His eyes were a cold, resentful flame that burned kindled by the image of Feng Han's thieving figure etched in his mind.

  "You have no idea what you've done, boy," Han Lie muttered, a sharp glint passing across his eyes as a vicious smile appeared on his face.

  Around him, the shadows flickered, and he vanished.

  ...

  Feng Han didn't know—or care, for the consequences of his actions. For him, the sole thing that mattered was the coins and the comfort they could provide.

  His parents were long dead. Tossed to wild beasts for failing to pay off their debts. Time had turned even the memory of them into obscured shadows in the back of his mind.

  All he had were his sisters, Feng Yue and Feng Xue. No matter what he had to do, he would never let them suffer and starve, not again.

  Feng Han turned into an abandoned, lifeless street strewn with muck and grime, toward a small house hidden away in the back, behind mounds of refuse. He pried open a latch hidden at the bottom-most part of the door and entered the abode.

  Inside, it was shockingly clean, the complete opposite of the exterior. But such was the way of the slums. Hide your wealth close to your heart, for the more you shone on the outside, the sooner death would come for you.

  "Brother!" Feng Yue's soft, bell-like voice called out. She stepped out from the side room with a bright smile on her face. She was youthful and pure. Despite living in the slums, she grew well.

  She was only seventeen, a year younger than Feng Han, but he'd worked hard to give them a stable lifestyle, where they could be happy together.

  "Brother, you're back," Feng Xue said, her voice soft from behind Feng Yue's back. She stepped forward, reserved and calm. She was the youngest of the three siblings, being a year younger than Feng Yue.

  Feng Han smiled warmly, seeing the two of them. His precious siblings. He walked over and ruffled their hair playfully, leaving them looking as if a bird had nested on their heads. "Brother's home, Yue'er, Xue'er!"

  The two girls hugged him, not minding the state of their hair.

  "It was crazy out there today, but I got lucky," Feng Han said proudly. "We're gonna be eating good for a while."

  "Are you hurt anywhere?" Feng Yue asked worriedly, placing her hands on Feng Han's arm and looking up at him with watery eyes as she scanned his body.

  "Nope. Look at me? I'm great! Never better," Feng Han said. "There's nothing for you two to worry about. Never again. Instead, how about some food? I'm starved!"

  Both girls nodded their heads softly, accepting their brother's words.

  "I made some qi-enriched stew," Feng Yue said.

  Feng Xue grabbed Feng Han's hand and pulled him toward the table. "I helped! Today, the market was full of people, and I managed to get meat for a good price."

  Feng Han laughed, "Great work, both of you!"

  "You might finally be able to break through into body forging, brother," Feng Yue said softly.

  "Body forging, huh?" Feng Han shook his head. "We'll see. It's already so late for me to stand out, even if I broke through."

  Cultivation was a dream for most, the door that led to the Heavens. If he could take that first step—to break through into body forging and shed the mortality of his life—he too could become a cultivator like the men who pursued him.

  "You're amazing, brother," Feng Xue snapped, teary-eyed as she looked at him.

  "Yes, you're just lacking an opportunity, brother," Feng Yue agreed.

  "It's fine," Feng Han said, smiling as he dangled the stolen coin pouch in front of the two girls, letting the coins jingle freely in the comfort of their home. "For now, at least our meals are taken care of."

  The girls chuckled seeing their brother's excitement, and the three enjoyed their meal with great relish and contentment. Feng Han savored every bite of the flavourful stew, as the qi and spices burst in his mouth. It was a simple dish, but for him, it was a rare delicacy.

  Once he finished his meal, Feng Han stretched back, yawning as the exhaustion from the day's pursuit took its toll on his body. He rose to his feet and sighed. "It's a good time for some rest."

  But man's wishes were often for naught, as before he could take a step, the silence in the slums shattered.

  The warmth of the stew was still hot on Feng Han's tongue, but the danger looming outside chilled his heart.