The scent of blood still clung to Shi Yao's hands as he moved through the forest. The wolf he had slain was far behind. His steps were steady. His gaze scanned the path ahead, calm and focused.
From deeper in the woods came the sound of creaking wheels and slow hoofbeats.
Rounding a bend, Shi Yao spotted a horse-drawn carriage parked across the narrow trail. Several men lounged around it. Their weapons rested in plain view, but the look in their eyes was sharp, searching. Bandits.
One of them stepped forward, short and wiry, with a crooked smile.
"You're a brave one, walking alone in a place like this," he said in a gravelly tone. "Come with us. We'll keep you safe. Just a small protection fee. You understand, right?"
Shi Yao stopped and looked at him. His expression was neutral at first, then shifted to mild confusion, as if he wasn't sure he had heard correctly.
"What are you even talking about?" he said.
The man blinked.
"You charge people to not get beat up?" Shi Yao continued, his tone dry. "Alright. Then I'll charge you. Same idea. Better outcome."
The bandits tensed.
A heavy-set bald man stepped forward from the side of the carriage. He cracked his knuckles, muscles rippling across his forearms.
"You've done it now," one of the others muttered.
"Go on, Lu Li. Handle him."
"Yeah, break something."
Lu Li said nothing. He rolled his neck and walked toward Shi Yao with heavy steps.
Shi Yao looked at him like he was a bored customer in a tea shop.
"How about you come try it then?" he said.
Lu Li lunged, his fist swinging toward Shi Yao's chest.
Shi Yao raised one hand. With a small flick of his finger—
Crack.
A boom echoed through the trees.
Lu Li's body shot backwards, smashing through trees like a stone skipping across a lake. Branches broke. Bark shattered. Then silence.
The other bandits froze.
Shi Yao stepped forward slowly.
"Drop everything you're carrying," he said. "Or you'll join him."
Panic spread fast. Weapons hit the ground first. Then bags, clothing, jewelry. One man hesitantly offered up a silver ring. Shi Yao caught it without looking.
He studied the ring in his fingers, turning it under the light. It felt too cold for jewelry. Too dense.
"You," he said, pointing to the man who handed it over. "What is this?"
The man fell to his knees. The others quickly followed.
"S-Storage ring!" he stammered. "You can store things inside it with spiritual sense. We took it from a merchant cultivator. We didn't know how to use it properly."
Shi Yao pressed a thread of spiritual sense into the ring. Rows of items appeared in his mind. Weapons. Supplies. Scraps of treasure. Coins. Over ten thousand gold pieces.
He let out a quiet breath.
"You've been busy."
He slipped the ring onto his finger.
"And the boots," he added. "Take them off."
The bandits hesitated for only a moment before scrambling to remove their shoes.
When Shi Yao walked away, he was wearing a clean gray robe, sturdy boots, and a storage ring on his hand. Behind him, a group of barefoot men crouched in the dirt, too afraid to move.
---
The village came into view just as the sun began to set. Familiar homes stood in silence.
Shi Yao approached the modest wooden house he shared with his sister and stepped inside.
He stopped.
Li Rong sat curled on the floor, her head buried in her knees. Her small frame trembled in silence.
She looked up, her eyes swollen and red. For a heartbeat, she stared in disbelief.
Then she ran.
"Brother…"
She crashed into him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, her face pressed to his chest.
"Don't go," she whispered. "Please… don't go again."
Shi Yao didn't answer. He stood still, then slowly embraced her, resting a hand gently on the back of her head.
She was shaking.
"Why are you crying?" he asked quietly.
Her breath hitched. She tried to speak, but the words came out broken.
"A week ago… Li Wuji came back. He was hurt. He said you were gone. Said you fell from the mountain, and there was blood. So much blood…"
Shi Yao closed his eyes. Her voice, raw with fear, cut deeper than he expected. She had grieved him. Mourned him like she had lost everything again.
And she wasn't even his real sister.
But her arms were real. Her tears, real.
He held her closer.
"I'm here now," he said. "So don't cry. I'm not going anywhere."
Her sobs slowed. Her grip loosened. Sleep crept in. He picked her up, carried her to her bed, and laid her down gently. The blanket rose and fell with her breath.
---
Later, Shi Yao lay on his mat. Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the wall, drawing faint white lines across the wooden floor.
He stared at the ceiling in silence.
"This world," he whispered.
He closed his eyes.
"it's starting to feel real."
Sleep came quietly.
For once, he let it.