The bustling energy of Fang Market enveloped Shen Yue and Clone 1 as they navigated its crowded streets. Known as the outer city's heart, the market thrived with cultivators seeking escort missions to distant regions.
Guided by Peng Lei's memories, Shen Yue led them straight to the escort agencies' district, his steps purposeful. His literacy and knowledge, honed by memory reading, bordered on mastery.
Without hesitation, he approached a manager lounging behind a modest reception desk.
"Any escort missions to a high-rank district?" he asked, voice steady.
The manager, half-listening to a report, glanced up with mild curiosity. "You're in luck. A mission leaves in two hours, bound for the high-class district. You'll protect Su Long, the Su family's third young master."
His indifferent gaze swept over Shen Yue and Clone 1. "Two bronze contribution codes each, regardless of cultivation. Judging by your faint Blood Qi, you're no high-ranking cultivators."
Shen Yue nodded, unfazed. Their concealed strength had worked—the manager saw only unremarkable travelers.
"Understood," he said. "We'll return on time."
The manager waved them off. "Explore the market if you want. Be late, and the carriage leaves without you."
Shen Yue turned, his mind already shifting to the next step. They wove deeper into the market's vibrant chaos, the air thick with the scents of grilled meat and herbal brews.
He rented a low-class pavilion room for two hours, paying ten copper coins. Inside, he activated the system's body-altering function.
Clone 1's form shimmered, its features reshaping to mirror Shen Yue's, but with subtle changes—a plainer face, unremarkable, like a modern everyman.
Shen Yue studied the result, satisfied. "Good enough," he murmured.
They bathed, shedding the dust of their journey. Shen Yue donned his ancient dark black robe, its cryptic patterns glinting faintly.
Clone 1 chose a red robe from their spatial storage, adorned with delicate bamboo patterns—stylish, yet unassuming.
Shen Yue left his long hair loose, cascading past his shoulders, while Clone 1 tied his neatly, securing a sword at his waist.
Clone 1 adjusted his robe, a faint smile flickering. "Thank you, Master, for this."
Shen Yue nodded. "It suits you."
Stepping back into the market, they blended into the crowd—shoppers haggling, families laughing, lovers whispering.
The lively din stirred something in Shen Yue. As they passed a stall, he saw a man gifting a pendant to his lover, her face alight with joy.
Memories surged—his sister Shen Ning's bright smile before their father's death, his mother's gentle comfort in the aftermath.
A soft ache bloomed in his chest. I'll see them soon, he promised himself.
At a jewelry stall, a necklace caught his eye. Activating his detection function, he confirmed its value—a low-grade artifact enhancing mental calm and radiating a refreshing aura.
Perfect for Ning'er. He bought it for one silver coin, tucking it into his spatial storage.
They continued exploring, Shen Yue's detection skill scanning stalls for hidden treasures.
At an antique stall, a hairpin carved from Longxue wood gleamed subtly, its spiritual resilience unmistakable.
"Ten silver," the shopkeeper said, unyielding.
Shen Yue feigned rummaging through his robes, withdrawing the coins from his spatial storage.
"Here," he said, handing them over. The shopkeeper nodded, satisfied.
Glancing at Clone 1, Shen Yue held up the hairpin. "What do you think?"
Clone 1 smiled. "It's beautiful, Master."
Shen Yue chuckled. "Want to try it on? It'd look cute."
Clone 1's cheeks flushed faintly. "Thank you, but I don't wear accessories."
Shen Yue laughed softly, his thoughts turning sly. This shopkeeper will curse himself when he learns what he sold for ten silver.
They purchased two conical hats to further obscure their identities and returned to the escort mission point.
A luxurious carriage stood under the moonlight, its glossy horses stamping impatiently.
The manager spotted them, his earlier indifference replaced by cautious respect.
"Young masters," he said, bowing slightly. "May I ask your purpose?"
Shen Yue raised an eyebrow. "We've been here for two hours. Forgotten us already, Manager?"
The manager froze, recognition dawning. Their refined appearances and subtle Blood Qi leakage—hinting at concealed strength—stunned him.
"Apologies," he stammered, bowing deeper. "The carriage departs in five minutes."
Shen Yue nodded. "Carry on."
The manager retreated, relief evident.
Inside the carriage, a young man with gentle features, Su Long, glanced up from his book. His eyes lingered on Shen Yue and Clone 1, suspicion flickering.
Raising a hand, he summoned a shadow that knelt beside him.
"Monitor them in the high-class district," Su Long whispered. "Report anything unusual."
"Yes, Master," the shadow replied, vanishing.
Su Long's gaze narrowed. Who are these two, really?
The carriage rolled out, passing Fang Market's gates and entering a forest path.
Peng Lei's memories warned Shen Yue of the Black Bear Gang, bandits who controlled this route. They rarely harmed travelers but demanded tolls.
Shen Yue had chosen the escort mission for its protection and legitimacy, hoping to avoid conflict.
I'm not ready to face them head-on, he thought.
The night deepened, the moon casting silver across the trees.
Suddenly, dark figures erupted from the shadows, surrounding the carriage. Their presence was cold, lethal.
The head escort stepped forward, voice steady. "Show yourselves. We can negotiate."
A gruff voice answered from the darkness. "Young Master Su travels tonight. Why not rest at our stronghold?"
The words carried a thinly veiled threat—they wanted Su Long.
Shen Yue's eyes narrowed. So that's their game.
The escort guard tensed, recognizing the voice. "That's their leader," he muttered.
Before anyone could react, the bandit leader roared, "Attack! Capture Young Master Su!"
Chaos erupted. Screams pierced the night as blades clashed, blood spraying.
Half the escort guards fell in moments, overwhelmed by the bandits' ferocity.
Clone 1 stepped before Shen Yue, unsheathing his sword with a steely rasp. "Master, leave this to me."
Shen Yue blinked, a wry thought crossing his mind. Fate loves its ambushes, doesn't it?