'I need to eat, and I need a clear mind before I attempt to read this again,' Yoriichi thought.
Instead of heading to the clan's dining hall, he adjusted his path toward the southern district. He had a substantial amount of spare gold coins in his pouch now that his monthly stipend had been doubled, and he wanted to clear his head in the mundane world.
After a twenty-minute walk, he arrived at the Wu Tan City Night Market.
It was a vibrant, chaotic, and heavily illuminated economic zone. Thousands of glowing red and gold paper lanterns were strung between the wooden stalls, casting a warm, flickering light over the massive crowds of mercenaries, merchants, and commoners.
The Night Market was a unique political entity. It was too profitable for any one faction to control without starting a war, so it was jointly managed by the three major powers of the city: the Xiao, the Jia Lie, and the Ao Ba clans. They each controlled specific sectors, maintaining a fragile, heavily armed peace to ensure the gold kept flowing.
Yoriichi strolled casually down the bustling main thoroughfare. He seamlessly dodged heavily armored mercenaries and haggling merchants, his movements naturally fluid.
He approached the fresh produce sector. The sensory overload was immediate—the smell of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and raw, earthy vegetables filled the air.
He stopped at various stalls, exchanging gold coins for a surprisingly mundane assortment of ingredients. He purchased a bundle of crisp, spiritual green vegetables, a block of pristine, jade-white tofu, a small sack of high-quality rice, and a handful of freshly harvested cloud-ear mushrooms.
As he packed the ingredients into a cloth sack, a profound sense of nostalgia washed over him.
In his previous life, during the Sengoku period, he had spent decades wandering the vast, war-torn landscapes of Japan alone. As a solitary demon hunter, he rarely had the luxury of inns or servants. He had cooked for himself over small, crackling campfires in the deep woods.
The simple act of washing rice in a cold stream, roasting a freshly caught fish on a stick, and boiling mushrooms in a small iron pot were some of the only moments of true peace he had ever known.
The Xiao Clan was luxurious, and the food prepared by the servants was exquisite, but it lacked the grounding, therapeutic simplicity of making a meal with his own two hands.
'I can cook these myself tonight,' Yoriichi thought, a faint, rare smile touching the corners of his lips. 'A simple mushroom and tofu broth to calm the mind before I challenge the heavens.'
With his sack of groceries secured, he turned to navigate his way out of the crowded market.
As he passed a dimly lit alleyway near the edge of the Jia Lie Clan's designated sector, his heightened hearing picked up a erratic heartbeat. It was a rhythm laced with panic and paranoia.
Yoriichi turned his head.
A few paces away, standing near a stall selling roasted boar skewers, was Jia Lie Ao. The young master of the Jia Lie Clan, who was notorious for his arrogance and lecherous behavior, looked entirely out of place. He wasn't surrounded by his usual gang of lackeys. He was roaming aimlessly, his eyes darting back and forth, looking over his shoulder with a quiet paranoia.
Coincidentally, Jia Lie Ao turned and locked eyes with the tall, stoic figure in the dark robes holding a basket of vegetables.
Jia Lie Ao froze. He swallowed, nervously fixing his silk collar. He took a hesitant step forward, offering a stiff, highly respectful bow that would have shocked anyone in his own clan if they see this.
"Greetings... Master Ning," Jia Lie Ao stammered, his voice slightly tight.
Yoriichi frowned just a fraction of an inch. His crimson eyes scanned the youth. The boy's pulse was racing, his pupils were slightly dilated, and his breathing was shallow. This wasn't just the fear; this was likely carrying a burden.
"What happened?" Yoriichi asked gently, his voice low and incredibly calm, entirely devoid of malice. "Why are you so tense?"
Jia Lie Ao flinched at the perceptive question. He looked around the crowded street, eyeing a pair of passing mercenaries with extreme suspicion. He took a deep, trembling breath, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Master Ning," Jia Lie Ao whispered, stepping slightly closer so his words wouldn't carry over the noise of the market. "I... I need to tell you something. Can we go somewhere quiet?"
Yoriichi looked at him for a few silent seconds.
He analyzed the request. The Jia Lie Clan was actively trying to bankrupt the Xiao Clan. For the Clan Leader's son to seek him out in secret meant one of two things: it was an elaborate trap to assassinate a Xiao genius, or the boy had discovered a secret it overrode his own clan loyalty.
Given the genuine fear radiating from Jia Lie Ao's biology, Yoriichi bet on the latter.
"Hmm," Yoriichi nodded, shifting the basket of vegetables to his other arm. "Then let's go. Tell me everything that is on your mind."
Jia Lie Ao nodded vigorously, relief flashing across his pale face.
He gestured for Yoriichi to follow. They navigated away from the brightly lit, crowded center of the Night Market, moving toward the darker, less populated edges of the district. The noise of haggling merchants and drunken laughter slowly faded, replaced by the heavy, continuous roar of rushing water.
They arrived at the eastern boundary of the market, where a waterfall cascaded down, forming a deep, churning pool. The area was relatively empty, bathed only in the pale, cold light of the moon. The deafening sound of the waterfall provided the perfect acoustic cover, ensuring no spies could eavesdrop on their conversation.
There was a worn, moss-covered stone bench situated near the edge of the pool.
Both of them sat down. The mist from the waterfall cast a slight chill over the air. Jia Lie Ao hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands for a moment as if trying to gather his shattered courage.
Yoriichi remained perfectly upright. He placed his basket of vegetables gently on the stone beside him, his crimson eyes locking onto the trembling youth.
The night was quiet. The stage was set.
Yoriichi turned his head slightly toward Jia Lie Ao, his voice cutting through the roar of the falling water with absolute clarity.
"Okay. Start."