Morning rose over a city still numb with sleep.
Lin'an softly coughed its mist. The alleys stirred under the steps of vendors, lazy barking, hooves slipping on damp cobblestones. In the distance, stone bells marked the market hour. As always, Chen woke them at dawn.
"Today, you go out. Separately."
Hei Tian blinked.
"Alone?"
"The city is a sea. You must dive in, alone, to learn how to feel its currents. Yun Lue, Mu Liang, each of you has a mission. Hei Tian... you must bring me three black cabbage roots from the plains. You'll find them at the market or with herbalists. No more. No less."
A simple task. Too simple.
Chen handed him a small pouch. Then added, without a smile:
"And try not to die."
Hei Tian walked slowly through the alleys. His steps were unhurried, but everything in him observed. The weight of closed windows, half-hidden glances, doors shut too quickly. The city spoke a language few seemed to hear.
He crossed the grand marketplace.
Dozens of colorful stalls lined the way, noisy, harsh. The vendors' cries drowned out the scents of fish, oil, leather, iron. Unknown faces passed without looking. An entire world breathing, creaking, lying.
He stopped in front of a herb stand.
"Black cabbage?" he asked.
The vendor, a thin woman with blotched hands, stared at him for a long moment before replying:
"You're not from here."
He didn't answer. She eventually shrugged and handed him three roots. Black, thick, hard as dry wood.
"Thirty coins."
He paid.
As he turned away, a scene caught his eye.
In a side alley, under the shadow of a stone arch, a richly dressed man—violet silk, fine embroidery—had stopped before a beggar. The man bowed deeply. Respectfully. As if before an elder.
The beggar did not move.
A guard coughed. The man straightened, turned on his heel, walked away.
Hei Tian stood still. Something felt off. This wasn't charity. It was a ritual. A code. And he was the only one watching.
"You saw what you weren't supposed to see."
A small voice made him turn.
A child, maybe eight or nine, stood looking at him. His face was covered with a cracked wooden mask, showing only one eye—black, shining. The other was hidden.
"Who are you?" Hei Tian asked.
"No one."
"Are you following me?"
"No. I precede."
A silence.
The child held something out to him. A small, oval token, darkened wood. Engraved with a symbol he didn't recognize: an eye pierced by a thread.
"Why?"
"Because you were seen. And you see. So, take it."
Before he could speak, the child turned and vanished into the crowd.
The afternoon was heavy.
Back at the inn, Hei Tian found Yun Lue sitting on the edge of a bed, hugging her knees. Mu Liang was speaking loudly in the next room, laughing with the old innkeeper. He always seemed light.
Yun Lue did not laugh.
When she looked up at Hei Tian, he saw restrained anger in her gaze—but more than that... fear.
"You got your roots?" she asked curtly.
He nodded. She looked away.
"Mu Liang thinks the sect will welcome us all. He believes we'll grow strong quickly. He talks about glory, weapons, violet robes. And you say nothing."
"Because I don't believe it yet," Hei Tian answered calmly.
She grimaced.
"I don't believe it at all."
Silence.
She added more softly:
"And I'm scared he... will surpass me. And that you... will go too far ahead."
He didn't reply. He looked at his palm. The token glowed faintly, dark and dull.
Evening came. Chen returned.
He placed a cup of hot water in front of each of them, sat slowly, then fixed his gaze on Hei Tian.
"Speak."
Hei Tian recounted the scene. The beggar. The man. The token. The masked child.
Chen sighed.
"You were seen."
"By whom?"
"By those who live behind the walls of the city. Not the houses. The other walls. The walls of habit, of alliances, of silent games. You're in the web now."
"And the token?"
"Keep it. It may be your life—or your death."
Mu Liang sat up straight:
"I heard talk of an illegal tournament in the eastern sewers. Young ones fight there to catch the eye of... someone."
Chen closed his eyes.
"You will all have to dive deeper. The Sect of the Violet Lightning does not seek polite children. It seeks those who survive in the shadows. Those who dare look where no one else does."
He stood, moved to the window. The lights of Lin'an danced like fireflies in the mist.
"You saw the city? Now, the city sees you."
The night deepened.
In bed, Hei Tian stared at the ceiling. Chen's words echoed.
And in his palm, the wooden token felt heavier than it was.
In this city, truth wore no face. But sometimes, even a cracked mask was enough to change a destiny.
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