A merchant carriage bearing the embroidered emblem of the Han family advanced along a road that cut through a wide, open prairie. The sky was clear, and the wind gently swayed the tall grass on either side of the path, but the atmosphere among the men escorting the cargo was far from relaxed. Several guards armed with spears and steel swords rode around the carriage, alert to any movement on the horizon. Though they tried to maintain firm postures, the nervousness was evident in the stiffness of their shoulders and the constant glances they exchanged.
On top of the carriage, reclining with one hand behind his head, a young man rested with apparent ease. Jin had begun the journey inside the vehicle, seated among the crates of merchandise as Han Rong had suggested, but after several hours confined in that cramped space, boredom had gotten the better of him. He decided to climb out and settle on the roof of the carriage, where he could at least feel the wind and observe the full panorama.
From that elevated position, the world seemed far more interesting.
He slightly turned his head to the right and saw a young man riding a dark horse. The blue robe he wore clearly distinguished him from the rest of the guards, whose outfits were simpler and more functional. It was Han Rong’s son, who had firmly insisted on accompanying the caravan.
Jin smiled with quiet amusement.
He knew perfectly well what was going on in that young man’s mind. The blow he had received in front of everyone had wounded his pride, and now he sought an opportunity to recover some dignity by venting his frustration on the supposed bandits. It was a predictable reaction… almost endearing.
As if sensing the gaze, the young man slightly turned his face toward the carriage. When he met Jin’s golden eyes watching him from above, his expression tightened. He quickly looked away, uncomfortable.
For an instant, the image that crossed Jin’s mind was simple and amusing.
A mouse… aware it was being watched by a cat.
The caravan continued along the open road while the wind kept swaying the grass as if nothing were about to happen.
Thus, the journey passed during the first hours without incident. The sound of wheels against the dirt road and the steady trot of horses set an almost monotonous rhythm, so much so that some guards began to relax slightly—though never fully lowering their guard.
Until they reached the small forest.
It was a necessary stretch before reaching the next city, where the goods were to be delivered. At first glance, it did not seem particularly dangerous, but as soon as the caravan crossed beneath the first trees, the environment changed immediately. Dense canopies blocked the view to the sides, and sunlight filtered down in uneven beams, creating deceptive shadows between the trunks.
The guards visibly tensed.
Hands tightened around spears and hilts. Their gazes began moving quickly, scrutinizing every corner.
On top of the carriage, Jin stopped reclining and sat upright, crossing his legs and folding his arms over his chest. His golden eyes calmly scanned the surroundings with analytical composure.
“Mmm… perfect for an ambush,” he thought with irony. “And also very predictable.”
He did not seem alarmed. If anything, there was a faint expectation in his expression.
While his gaze swept the forest, at some distance among the trees, a group of men observed the caravan from the cover of vegetation. There were six in total, all dressed in old, faded robes—some torn, others stained from years of use. Their weapons were not particularly refined, but they were well maintained.
At their front stood a bald, muscular man with thick arms and visible scars across his chest. He spat to the side before speaking in a low voice, though his tone carried the crude arrogance typical of someone who believed himself master of the road.
“Heh… would you look at that, the little sheep loaded with gold are coming,” he muttered with a crooked smile. “They’re almost at the spot. When I block their path, we start the plan. I want to see if those merchant dogs squeal like last time.”
He looked at the other five with a condescending expression, as if surrounded by subordinates too dull to grasp his brilliance.
“Everyone ready? I don’t want anyone screwing up. Today we’re going to feast.”
The men nodded silently, tensing their muscles and preparing their weapons.
On the road, the caravan continued advancing toward the heart of the forest.
The bald, muscular man watched greedily from between the trees as the Han family’s trade caravan slowly approached along the path. His lips curled into a twisted grin as he imagined all he could buy with the loot: expensive wine, better weapons… and women willing to draw near when gold clinked in his hands.
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This time, I’ll truly feast… he thought greedily.
The caravan moved cautiously through the forest, the guards tense, hands firm on their weapons. Everything seemed the same as previous times.
Until it didn’t.
The bald man narrowed his eyes upon noticing something different. Sitting atop the carriage with arms crossed was a young man clearly not dressed like a mere guard. And beside the caravan, riding a horse, another youth in a blue robe advanced with upright bearing. Their clothes were far too refined for common mercenaries.
He frowned.
They undoubtedly looked like disciples of some sect.
His mind recalled the cultivator he had defeated the last time he intercepted a Han family shipment. That man had also boasted of strength… and ended up rolling on the ground.
The bald man snorted.
“Heh… now they bring brats to scare me?”
Though a shadow of annoyance crossed his face, he soon smiled again with confidence. His eyes gleamed with near-arrogant assurance.
After all… I have THAT.
He did not believe a few youths barely beginning their path in cultivation could truly trouble him.
He raised his hand, preparing to give the signal.
Jin had been waiting for something to happen for quite some time. The caravan had already penetrated deep into the forest, and yet everything remained in an almost irritating silence. The creak of wheels and the rustle of wind through leaves were the only sounds present. Finally, he yawned without bothering to hide it and lazily stretched atop the carriage roof.
Are they really not going to do anything?
As he debated whether to lie back down or remain seated, a harsh shout shattered the forest’s silence.
Suddenly, a figure dropped heavily in front of the carriage, kicking up dust from the road. It was a bald, muscular man who had descended from the trees with surprising agility. Almost at the same time, five other men emerged from different directions, blocking the path and surrounding the caravan with drawn weapons.
The horses neighed nervously. The guards tightened their formation.
The bald man stepped forward, puffing out his chest with a domineering air, and spoke in a rough, exaggeratedly confident voice:
“Listen well, ants of the Han family. This road belongs to your father. Leave the cargo and kneel, and maybe this great lord will let you keep your lives. If you resist… don’t blame my sword for not recognizing relatives.”
Then his gaze slid condescendingly toward Jin atop the carriage and toward the blue-robed youth riding nearby.
“And now you bring brats to escort goods? Looks like the Han family ran out of real men.”
Hearing that speech, Jin could not help but roll his eyes.
What the hell… did he seriously say something that generic?
The scene was almost a caricature of what he had expected.
He calmly observed the supposed leader’s appearance: exaggerated musculature, exposed scars, Qi Condensation aura circulating with unnecessary ostentation.
Jin slightly tilted his head.
So… do I use Patriarch Han’s tactic and show the token?
His fingers moved subtly toward his waist, where the badge rested.
Or do I just beat them up and get this over with quickly?
His golden eyes gleamed with a spark of interest as he weighed which option would be less boring.
For several seconds, Jin calmly considered his options, while in the background the bald bandit’s voice continued echoing with increasingly irritated threats and mockery at being ignored. The man gestured wildly, raised his sword, and spoke with growing annoyance, clearly offended that the youth atop the carriage did not react.
So noisy…
Finally, as if having reached a grand decision, Jin lifted his hand and stuck a finger into his ear, wiggling it slightly as though trying to remove something bothering him. Then he looked at the bald man with a carefree expression.
“Yeah, yeah… I heard you. Are you always this loud, or are you making a special effort today?”
The tone was not angry or defiant.
It was worse—it was casual.
The bald man froze. Not because of the exact words, but because of how they were delivered. For an instant, the entire forest seemed to fall silent. The other five bandits glanced at each other uncertainly. Even the Han family guards were stunned, and the blue-robed youth slightly widened his eyes at the sheer disrespect.
As for Jin, he calmly stood atop the carriage. Without haste, he reached to his waist, untied the token hanging there, and held it up, allowing the filtered forest light to clearly illuminate the symbol engraved upon it.
“Before you keep barking… maybe you should look at this.”
The muscular man frowned and let out a mocking laugh at first.
“A little plaque? You think that scares—?”
But the laughter cut off abruptly.
His eyes focused on the emblem. He recognized the design. He recognized the name.
Some color drained from his face.
What the hell… a disciple from that titanic sect? What is he doing here… and on this caravan?
For a brief instant, the weight of the name represented by that token pressed down on him like an invisible slab.
Doesn’t matter… even if he’s from that sect, he’s still just a brat.
With that thought, the bandit leader forced his arrogant smile back onto his face, puffing out his chest as if nothing had happened.
The bald man took a deep breath, regaining some of his confidence, and broadened his stance as though his earlier hesitation had never existed. He looked at Jin with disdain and spoke in a voice thick with arrogance.
“So what if you’re a disciple of some famous sect? This isn’t your territory, brat. I rule here. After I break a few of your bones, I’ll disappear somewhere far away, and neither you nor your sect will find me. Or do you think a mere outer disciple can scare this great lord?”
Jin smiled faintly. It was a genuine smile of enjoyment, as if things were finally unfolding the way he had expected.
“Good… I figured you’d say something like that. And I appreciate it. After all, that means I can choose the option of beating you up.”
Upon hearing the youth’s mocking words, the bandit leader grew even more irritated. But before Jin could even move to step down from the carriage, Han Rong’s son dismounted from his horse with agility. He drew his sword in a clean motion and stepped forward, placing himself between the caravan and the bandits.
“A mere, pathetic bandit dares to rob my Han family’s goods. There is no need for you to fight, Fellow Daoist Jin. I will handle this.”
The young man’s tone was firm, though clearly laced with pride. He sought to prove something—both to the bandits and to Jin himself.
Jin frowned for barely a second, but soon regained his carefree expression. He shrugged and replied casually.
“As you wish. But be careful… you might end up getting beaten instead. Don’t take me too seriously, but I think that could happen.”
The playful smile and amused gaze accompanying those words made the young Han tighten his grip on his sword hilt, while the bandit leader let out a harsh laugh, convinced he was about to crush the pride of an overconfident youth.
The air in the forest grew completely tense, and this time there was no more room for empty words.

