Lin Yu's vehicle bumped and jarred along the dusty, uneven roads which snakedaway from Wuxiang State, and the shimmering and spectacular capital city of the Xu Dynasty faded more and more into the distance behind him. Wuxiang, everyone knew, was the very heartbeat of the empire, the booming centre of power and culture, in whose midst the towering imperial palace loomed proudly as one monumental testimony to the Emperor's absolute power and dominance over his tremendous kingdom.
Under the watchful and attentive eye of the emperor, acts of blatant crime were actually fairly infrequent, largely kept in check by the heavy weight and authority of imperial might hanging over the kingdom. Nonetheless, even within the city's crowded capital buildings, there were dark alleys where illicit business was transacted—illegally smuggled goods, quietly traded in downpayments of bribe money, all thriving just beyond the discerning gaze of the emperor's eyes.
As Lin Yu moved away from the scene, he did so in such a way as to show he did not indulge in even a moment to think about the defenseless and defenseless belly of Wuxiang. His thoughts were greatly focused on one overriding goal: to locate Su Xuan, a cultivation prodigy whose potential natural gifts distinguished him from the pack.
After many hours had gone by, the carriage at last glided into the domain of the Cangyan state, whose appearance was striking and marked in its contrast to the refined splendour characteristic of the capital. Cangyan's landscape was harsh and rough, its hills jutting in fractured shapes, and the villages were sparsely found, appearing to be just afterthoughts scattered by the side of the boundless width of the landscape.
The air was filled with the pine's cool and stimulating aroma blended with the loamy smell emanating from the forest floor, and the roads themselves were bumpy and harsh, challenging the creaking and aged wheels of the carriage as they jarred along the road. Lin Yu relaxed back in the battered cushions that had bolstered him, his forehead severely creased as he fought to reconcile himself to the daunting nature of the mission before him.
In all honesty, he was in the situation where he did not have a concrete lead or absolute clue to the whereabouts of Su Xuan now. The young man was now like some kind of ghost, evading capture and permanently on the run, because the powerful and influential Bai household pursued him tirelessly, and he did not have the option of staying in one place for long lest he risk being endangered.
But Lin Yu was keenly aware of the truth of the matter that Su Xuan needed to be fed and needed to take time to rest, even for just a limited amount of time. He knew that inns and bars would be his best available choices, temporary shelters for one in a seriously unstable position like that of the fugitive, one who simply couldn't afford to remain in one spot for very long at all.
He also knew others have most likely deduced this too so there might be some patrols.
So Lin Yu created quite simply one clear plan: to diligently inspect one and all inn he would come by on his journey, starting from the first inn that caught his eyes.
And he did not permit himself even the remote consideration of the slim possibility that Su Xuan had already successfully escaped Cangyan undetected. If it were the situation that the young cultivator had been successful in evading the clutches of the Bai family without being noticed, then it would either mean they were utterly lacking in competence and efficiency in the implementation of the duties they were tasked to do, or it would mean that Su Xuan had chanced upon the once-every-existence opportunity, the kind of turning point where the protagonists of her favorite novels usually experience them—such turning points where they would end up altering the courses of their lives and where they would come to know who they were in the reader's perception.
No matter the situation, Lin Yu was stubbornly not ready to accept the end to his persistent search. Su Xuan was potentially his once in a lifetime opportunity for him. Alleviating the storm of thoughts running wild in his thoughts, he focused all his thoughts on the task before him as he saw the carriage come to a halt.
The first stop was the Orchid Pavilion, described in one's terms as some quaint little inn, prettily located on the outskirts of some burgeoning and flourishing market city. Its battered and weathered sign creaked gently in the warm air, proclaiming the years it had been in existence, its paint clearly chipped and peeling off, adding to its rough-around-the-edges feel.
Moreover, the wood framework of the establishment had telling scars of being forsaken over the years--cracked beams and flaking paint inclusive, and stories of the ages to tell.
Even though it might not have been considered to be some extremely prestigious and high-standing establishment, it did, in fact, manage to successfully achieve its intended purpose quite effectively; it was the type of establishment where one would seek to take refuge as a fugitive simply because it was non-descript and was largely spared from close scrutiny.
At the time of Lin Yu's arrival, when he did get down from the carriage, he did a very deliberate and intentional action, calling for his servants to stay back while keeping close watch over the vehicle. These were the ones known as the "guards," and they were in reality mere formalities, not being at all efficient, as they were only equipped with rusty spears and had only been given the barest of trainings. The stipulation for all scholars to keep these guards was some rule that came from the dark and horrid realities associated with the profession they were connected to.
They were usually the frequent targets of animosity, being put to death for the crime of displeasing some important noble in the province they were responsible for in the Macau local sphere of the Portuguese Empire or for revealing secrets some individual desperately wanted to remain hidden.
But Lin Yu was extremely aware of the limitations his bodyguards were subjected to in terms of handling any major threat emanating from anywhere. He knew, more than anyone, that a cultivator, I mean, whether they were at the lowest point in their abilities, had the powerful potential to kill off his bodyguards in one flash by just waving his hand. And it was only the high-grade scholars who were endowed with the finances and means to hire and maintain the services of cultivators as bodyguards, something beyond the financial means of Lin Yu himself.
The only grower with whom he was acquainted in life was none other than Zhang Zhixun, and we must note even the specific relationship he did have was more fundamentally based in career associations than in some kind of individual relationship. Lin Yu paused to straighten the material of his plain garments, ones he had specifically selected with the goal of avoiding the type of notice that the scholar's uniform would necessarily receive in this kind of setting.
In a venue like the famous Orchid Pavilion, the presence of a scholar would necessarily inspire deference from the patrons, who would mean, in turn, more attentive servics, and curious glances. Lin Yu, though, was in the kind of situation where he must blend in with the environment. His business was grave; he was pursuing one who had fled, and hence the requirement of reserve in order to achieve his objective.
Within the inn, the room was poorly lit, and the air was thick with the blend of different odors consisting of the strong smell of cheap wine, the rich aroma of roasted meat, and the faint but recognizable scent of perspiration that clung to the room. Scantily filled was the crowd of patrons scattered around the room, merchants silently sipping at their drinks and chatting softly, workers crouched over steaming bowls of rice in deep contemplation, and one lone woman staring out of a dirty window, lost in her thoughts.
The waiter approached the table, his face absolutely expressionless and inauspicious, and took Lin Yu's order without even glancing at him twice. Had Lin Yu been wearing his scholar's robes, the waitstaff would have certainly rushed to attend to him with utmost enthusiasm and deferential gaze. Scholars, being by far wealthier than the bulk of the patrons, possessed an august position commanding quiet but formidable influence in places like this one.
But on this specific day, the shielding mantle of anonymity was exceptionally beneficial to him. He sat down at one of the tables of moderate size located in the corner of the room, with his back against the wall to give himself the utmost security. He commanded the Binding System in quiet authoritarian tones to show the talent scores of all those in the room.
Numbers flickered into view above the patrons' heads, glowing faintly in his mind's eye. A grizzled man: 45. An old man: 39. The woman by the window: 42. Another patron, a wiry man with a nervous tic: 47. Lin Yu's shoulders slumped slightly, though he hadn't expected much.
These people were very normal, and their abilities simply were not of the high quality demanded by the system, where 80 was the minimum requirement to be found satisfactory. Sitting there and mulling over the circumstances of these people, he shifted his thoughts to the bowl of hot noodles the waiter had thoughtfully set down before him and found some refuge in the flavor of the broth the air carried, giving him some fleeting sense of security in the midst of the situation.
He consumed his meal slowly, meticulously weighing and pondering his future actions and decisions. Su Xuan was somewhere out there in the world, living somewhere beyond his immediate access, and it was absolutely necessary for Lin Yu to find him at once.
The inn's door groaned on its hinges, the sound interrupting the quiet and bringing Lin Yu out of the sound of his thoughts. Someone ducked inside the doorway, his face obscured in shadow by the brim of a high-crowned bamboo hat tipped down over his face. His cloak was serviceable, albeit very ordinary-looking, with patches in more than one spot where the material had worn thin, and his boots were encrusted with dirt, indicating how many dusty road days in a row he must have spent with no respite.
They were marked by some genius-level amount of caution, the wary carefulness emanating from him, and his shoulders were not just tight but utterly locked, as if this man was in permanent prepare-for-trouble-at-an-imaginable-moment stance, just around the next corner in the road. Lin Yu's eyes grew narrow, and he became painfully aware of the ever-accelerating beat of his heart, goaded by the tangible tension that dominated the room.
There was something seriously odd about this stranger. He might just as easily be anyone, possibly just another guest in search of a warm meal to fill his belly, but Lin Yu's instincts were just about compelling him to think otherwise.
He placed his chopsticks gently on the table, being slow with the motions to make absolutely sure he did not even remotely attract some kind of unwanted attention to himself, and then initiated the Binding System again, focusing all of his energy on the newly-approaching stranger. Focusing intently, a figure slowly materialized in the air over the man's head, indicating the number: 88.
Lin Yu's breath caught in his throat, his heartbeat hammering in his chest with urgency. The number was eighty-eight.