There is an old saying among the people: thieves steal on windy nights, not rainy ones — for rain leaves tracks in the earth.

Yuan Zhen had encountered no rain. But the land here was not kind to him either. It was the season when the coastal air around Fulou County hung heavy with moisture, leaving the ground perpetually damp — an easy surface for footprints.

His luck lay in the fact that Chu, in its days of strength, had built roads meant to last. The official road surfaces were solid and firm.

As long as he walked the official roads and not the back paths, he would leave no easy trail. The question was whether he dared.

Ye Xiaoqian turned to Tao Xiaomi: “Take a group along the official road and give chase. I’ll take people to search the surrounding area.”

Tao Xiaomi accepted the order and urged his horse forward.

Ye Xiaoqian looked at Xie Wange and another junior officer, Gao Yinjiu: “You two go with him. Yuan Zhen is a highly skilled fighter — if he takes the road, Xiaomi can’t handle him alone.”

Both junior officers agreed, and with their own subordinates, fell in with Tao Xiaomi and followed the official road.

Ye Xiaoqian took a few people and searched the surrounding area. Just outside the city, the official road ran alongside a stretch of woodland. If Yuan Zhen was being cautious, he would have entered the trees.

But the woodland held moisture just as heavily, and close to the sea as this was, the ground was almost sandy. Even someone with extraordinary lightness technique could not pass across such terrain without leaving some trace.

And yet when Ye Xiaoqian and his men combed the woodland carefully, they found no fresh footprints on the ground.

“Sir, if this man’s lightness technique is truly exceptional, could he have been moving through the treetops the whole time?”

One of his agents asked.

Ye Xiaoqian shook his head. “Look at these trees. Newly planted, not long grown — the thickest trunk is barely the width of a shin. The branches are too thin. Jumping between them would leave heavier marks, not lighter. He is not a bird…”

The word bird struck something in him. He turned and ran back toward the city wall. “Back to the walls — look again.”

He brought his men sprinting back to the city wall, to the spot where Yuan Zhen’s footprints had been found. Ye Xiaoqian moved along the parapet, scanning the merlons.

He looked in one direction — nothing. He turned and looked the other way.

There it was: roughly a zhang and more from the original footprint location, fresh marks on a merlon.

Ye Xiaoqian walked quickly forward and found another faint mark another zhang or so beyond.

“This man’s lightness technique is truly exceptional — and his mind is sharper still.”

Yuan Zhen had not descended the outer face of the wall at the same point where he’d climbed up. Fulou County was no great city, and with no active fighting, night patrols on the walls were sparse, with long gaps between rounds — at least half an hour between passes.

With so few soldiers posted, Yuan Zhen had ample time to move — and to minimize the trace he left, he had leapt across the merlons and exited from a completely different point.

Ye Xiaoqian followed the trail to another section of wall, where an agent spotted scuff marks from a descent on the inner face. He had come back inside the city.

Ye Xiaoqian called back: “Tell the others to come back — take the western gate road.”

As he said it, he launched himself off the wall and slid down.

The spot was not far from Fulou County’s western gate. Ye Xiaoqian was certain: Yuan Zhen had re-entered the city, found somewhere to hide, waited for dawn — and then walked openly out the western gate.

And at this very moment, Yuan Zhen was indeed on the official road beyond the western gate.

Not only had he walked out in plain sight — before leaving the city, he had found the time to steal a mule.

Ye Xiaoqian reached the western gate and asked the soldiers on duty: “From first light until now — how many people have gone out?”

The lead soldier thought and answered: “Sir, this early — only four or five people in total.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Among them, was there a middle-aged man — should have a beard?”

The soldier thought, then nodded. “Yes — went out two or three quarters of an hour ago. Had a mule with him.”

Ye Xiaoqian looked back: “Horses!”

His subordinates immediately handed him the reins. Ye Xiaoqian swung into the saddle, struck the horse, and rode in pursuit.

From the city wall to the western gate, only Ye Xiaoqian had kept pace. When he rode out to give chase, he was alone.

He pursued along the official road for some time, then spotted someone ahead, riding forward. He urged his horse to a full gallop.

Yuan Zhen heard hoofbeats behind him. He glanced back, saw a man in a black robe — one of the Censorate — and his recent satisfaction vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold tension.

He lashed the mule forward too. But a mule was no match for a warhorse. The gap closed steadily.

Seeing the pursuer nearly upon him, Yuan Zhen reached back for his bundle, pulled it open — inside were a considerable number of stones.

At the city gate, he’d been checked, his bundle inspected. Any weapon would have been seized. But stones? He’d told the guards they were pretty pebbles for his children to play with. The soldiers hadn’t thought twice.

Now, with no weapon on him, stones were all he had.

The pursuer drew close. Yuan Zhen turned and hurled a stone.

It flew with terrifying speed — faster, it seemed, than an arrow.

Ye Xiaoqian caught the motion of his arm and immediately flattened himself against the horse’s neck, his torso pressed low to the saddle.

But Yuan Zhen hadn’t aimed at the man. He’d aimed at the horse.

The stone struck with tremendous force — directly to the warhorse’s forehead. The animal let out a shrieking cry and pitched forward.

Ye Xiaoqian reacted instantly, launching himself forward from the saddle.

But his every move seemed to have been anticipated.

Yuan Zhen waited for the horse to fall and Ye Xiaoqian to fly free — then in a single instant, two more stones left his hand.

Airborne and mid-flight, Ye Xiaoqian had no way to fully evade. In the fraction of a heartbeat, both arms came forward and crossed in front of him, his sleeves billowing outward like sails filling with wind.

Thud. Thud.

The stones struck the sleeves and were deflected — the fabric seeming almost to swell with compressed force, sending the stones ricocheting away.

Ye Xiaoqian landed. He glanced back — the warhorse lay on the ground, convulsing. It was finished.

His quarry, meanwhile, had used the moment to open the distance again, glancing back at him.

Ye Xiaoqian’s brow arched. “You think that’s enough for you to escape?”

He took a single slow breath — then both feet exploded with force. The solid surface of the official road crumbled under him, a spray of loose earth kicking up.

With that eruption of power, his body shot forward like a bolt from a siege crossbow.

When Yuan Zhen looked back, his eyes went wide.

He had always been proud of his lightness technique. Over short distances he could match a galloping horse. But what he saw in the man behind him was not lightness technique in any orthodox sense — it was raw, terrifying explosive force.

Which meant a single solid hit from this person, if he wasn’t careful, might kill him outright.

He turned and loosed two more stones. Ye Xiaoqian, moving at that speed, somehow read it in advance — body twisting sideways, coiling away from the trajectory.

The stones struck the official road’s surface hard enough to leave small pits.

Ye Xiaoqian landed and exploded forward again — changing directions, closing in.

Yuan Zhen swung around on the mule, hurling stone after stone with both hands.

Ye Xiaoqian took a slow breath and raised both arms before him — like a dancer shaking out wide water-sleeves, rising and falling in great sweeping waves. He stopped evading entirely and simply bore down, driving forward, his billowing sleeves rebounding stone after stone.

But some stones found their mark with uncanny precision — one struck his right hand. Bone cracked. The compressed force in his sleeves broke apart, and the unbroken stream of stones came faster, more viciously precise. Ye Xiaoqian’s evasions grew increasingly ragged.

“You think only you can shoot?!”

His right hand was injured. He reached left-handed to the crossbow at his hip and snapped off several quick bolts at Yuan Zhen.

Yuan Zhen saw the crossbow come up and flattened himself against the mule’s back.

He never expected Ye Xiaoqian to aim at the animal, not the rider.

Two bolts struck the mule in its haunches, one more in a hind leg. The creature screamed and bolted in all directions in its agony.

Ye Xiaoqian waited for his moment and emptied the remaining bolts — several struck the mule’s neck in quick succession, and it crashed to the ground.

Yuan Zhen leapt clear, rolling as he landed to shed the impact, then spun and hurled seven or eight stones at Ye Xiaoqian in rapid succession.

Ye Xiaoqian had to throw himself flat to dodge, his right hand impeding him badly.

By the time he was back on his feet, Yuan Zhen had covered a great deal of ground.

Ye Xiaoqian frowned. This man’s lightness technique was truly exceptional — in a pure foot-race, catching him would not be assured.

But there was no time to think further. He got up and ran.

Yuan Zhen glanced back and cursed under his breath — relentless — and pushed his speed.

Neither man had anticipated how far that chase would take them. And Yuan Zhen’s lightness technique was, in truth, a fraction superior: where Ye Xiaoqian relied on his body’s explosive power to surge forward, Yuan Zhen drew on cultivated internal energy and a perfected technique.

They ran like this for a full hour. Then, helplessly, Ye Xiaoqian watched Yuan Zhen disappear beyond the limit of his sight.

He pushed into a stretch of woodland, thoroughly spent, one hand braced against a tree as he drew great gulping breaths.

In that very moment, Yuan Zhen dropped from a tree above.

Both hands clamped onto Ye Xiaoqian’s shoulders — he had no time to react. Yuan Zhen forced him down into a crouch, then seized his robes with both hands and, with a single surge of power, hurled him overhead.

As Ye Xiaoqian flew through the air, Yuan Zhen reached out and drew the sword from his scabbard.

He drove it at Ye Xiaoqian’s back, toward the heart.

—