The guard scanned her token, nodded, then turned his eyes to Lao Xie.
"He's with me," she added before the guard could ask.
Still, protocol demanded it.
"Name?"
"Lao Xie."
There was the faintest flicker of surprise in the guard's eyes, but he said nothing, simply turned back and fed both names into the small formation embedded in the gate column.
A few seconds later, the glyph glowed faint green.
"Verified. You may enter," the guard said. "Please note that any purchases or transactions will be registered automatically. Any form of theft, fraud, or altercation within market walls will result in immediate ban and sect notification."
Ling Ruxin gave a nod. "Understood."
The gates slid open — slow, smooth, and nearly silent.
Warm light spilled out onto the path as the Cloudsky Market revealed itself.
Inside, rows of elegant stalls lined the stone-paved avenues, each run by sharp-eyed cultivators and merchants. Glimmering pills, artifact blades, strange ores, talismans, and even rare spiritual beast materials sat on display — all priced in spirit stones, and all far above the average outer disciple's reach.
Lao Xie stepped in without hesitation, his eyes passing over the wares, the people, and the layered protections built into the structure itself.
The path beyond the gate curved gently, lined with bamboo that swayed faintly in the afternoon breeze. A small trail of dust kicked up beneath their steps as they left the sect grounds and descended toward the city foothill. From there, it didn't take long before the rooftops and stalls of Cloudsky Market came into view — wide, orderly, and gleaming with activity.
At the entrance, two uniformed guards in light-blue robes sat beside a small stone table under a shaded pavilion. One of them glanced up lazily, but upon spotting Ling Ruxin, his posture straightened.
"Inner disciple Ling," he greeted politely. "And guest?"
"Lao Xie," she said. "Outer court but he's with me."
The guards exchanged a glance but didn't object. "Understood. Names logged. Enjoy your visit."
The moment they passed the checkpoint, the world changed.
The main walkway was paved with clean-cut stone, branching off into rows of vibrant stalls and pavilions. The air smelled faintly of incense, mixed with the sharper scents of spirit herbs and metallic tangs from refined ores. Disciples in higher-grade robes moved about with practiced ease, most in small groups or pairs, haggling or inspecting wares with sharp eyes.
"Welcome to Cloudsky Market," Ling Ruxin said as she slowed her pace. "Try not to look too stunned."
Lao Xie's expression didn't shift. He simply glanced around, taking in the variety of merchants — pills in sealed crystal jars, arrays of scrolls glowing faintly with formation lines, weapons humming lightly within spirit-silk wrappings.
"You seem familiar with this place," he said.
"Because I am," she replied. "When inner disciples need something the Resource Pavilion doesn't carry — something rarer, pricier, or more… specialized — we come here. I've been visiting since the first stage."
She stopped at a nearby stall where a pair of zither strings were laid out inside a reinforced case. "This one always keeps a stock of Sky-Silver threads. Expensive, but ideal for guqin restorations."
Lao Xie's gaze swept over the polished stringwork, then shifted to the stallkeeper, who nodded respectfully to Ruxin without pressing for a sale.
"You come here often?" he asked.
"Not too often. But enough that I know which stalls are honest and which ones overcharge." Her eyes flicked toward another row of merchants. "Come on. The pill lanes are up ahead — I'll show you a few places."
They continued walking through the crowd, moving from booth to booth.
As Ling Ruxin led the way with light, practiced steps, Lao Xie stayed half a pace behind — observing not the items, but the people.
At first, it was just a faint pressure on the edge of his senses. A misplaced pause. A stall owner who glanced his way too many times. A pair of footsteps that never seemed to fully disappear, even after turning corners.
It wasn't just once.
As they moved through a section of jade ornament vendors, he caught it again — a figure ducking into the crowd just as he turned his head. There was no spiritual pressure. No killing intent. But the movement was clean, rehearsed. Like a professional.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"I thought you said this market was secure," he said softly.
"It is," Ruxin replied, glancing back over her shoulder. "Why?"
"No reason," he murmured, letting the words fall flat.
But his gaze had already shifted — slower now, deliberate. He wasn't looking at the goods anymore, not really. Instead, his eyes moved along the polished metal surfaces, catching the reflections that flickered just a fraction too long. A merchant who bowed too quickly. A stall that looked like it should've been busy, yet remained oddly untouched.
Something felt off.
For a market said to be strictly guarded, there were too many blind spots. And if someone was tailing them through those gaps without interference… that meant one of two things.
Either the guards weren't paying attention.
Or someone didn't want them to.
He let the thought sit quietly in the back of his mind as they reached another set of potion vendors, the faint glimmer of tracking talismans brushing faintly against his spiritual sense.
Ling Ruxin, unaware, had paused at a shelf of flame-fused spirit gourds and turned back to him.
"You're awfully quiet."
"Just thinking," Lao Xie replied without missing a beat.
She gave him a light hum, raising one brow. "Hm?"
"About what's worth buying," he while slowly tilting his head,
She didn't say anything for a moment, just gave him a sideways glance — the kind that said she didn't quite buy it, but wasn't interested in picking a fight over it either.
Then, they moved into a quieter row of shops tucked along the market's outer loop — the kind where fewer people wandered, but the quality of wares only increased. Here, the storefronts were built sturdier, some with lacquered doors and carved lintels, others guarded by silent formation arrays that shimmered faintly under sunlight.
Ling Ruxin stopped in front of a small shop with golden wind chimes swaying gently in the breeze. It didn't look flashy, but it had an air of refinement, with tidy arrangements of spiritual accessories, instrument parts, and delicate repair tools displayed behind the glass pane.
"This one," she said, stepping toward the door with a hint of familiarity in her tone. "I usually stop by when I come."
The shopkeeper inside — an older man in scholar's robes — glanced up from behind a narrow counter and gave a respectful nod as the bell above the door chimed.
"Miss Ling. You've returned."
"Just browsing," she replied lightly. "Don't mind us."
Lao Xie followed her in but didn't stray far from the entrance. The shop was well-lit, peaceful, and smelled faintly of sandalwood. But after a few moments, he turned and said, "Stay here for a while."
Ling Ruxin, in the middle of inspecting a tray of fine-tuned bridge pegs, looked up. "Hm? Where are you going?"
He didn't hesitate. "I saw something outside that might interest me. Won't take long."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, thoughtful. "You want me to wait here?"
"It's safer," he replied with a vague smile. "This place suits you better than the dust outside."
"…You're being strange."
He didn't respond.
And before she could question further, he stepped back toward the door.
"Don't get into trouble," she called after him — half teasing, half genuine.
"Worried about me? Pfft~.. " he laughed before slipped out.
As soon as the door shut behind him, the warmth in his expression vanished.
His feet moved without urgency, but his mind shifted inward — back to the quiet chime that had reached him nearly ten minutes ago.