Lin Chen left the village at dawn.
He didn't announce it.
Didn't pack much either—just dried herbs, a skin of water, and the old knife he used for gathering roots.
If I stay, I'll drag trouble to them. If I go… I'll drag trouble to myself.
He wasn't sure which was worse.
The path out of the village was familiar.
Too familiar.
He'd walked it a hundred times to gather herbs in the hills. But after a while, the fog thickened, and the trail beneath his feet grew uneven.
Lin Chen frowned.
This isn't right. The hills don't start for another half hour.
He stopped.
The world felt… tilted.
When he took another step, the sound of his footfall echoed twice.
Once where it should have.
Once somewhere else.
His chest warmed.
The mark pulsed faintly.
Lin Chen swallowed.
So this is your idea of "walk," huh? Drag me onto a road that doesn't exist?
The fog thinned.
And the familiar hills were gone.
The land beyond was wrong.
The grass was silver-gray, stiff like metal wire.
Stone pillars jutted from the ground at crooked angles, each carved with weathered symbols of broken crowns and three-eyed stars.
Lin Chen's breath caught.
I've seen these… in my dream.
The air here was heavy. When he inhaled, warmth flowed into his body on its own. His limbs tingled. His heartbeat slowed.
So this is what cultivators feel all the time?
Breathing feels… different.
A soft chime echoed in the distance.
Not loud.
Not close.
Just enough to be unsettling.
Lin Chen hesitated.
Then he heard footsteps.
He turned sharply.
Three men in dark traveling cloaks stepped from behind a stone pillar. Their eyes gleamed with cold light. Each wore a short blade at the waist.
Bandits.
No—cultivators.
Low-level, but unmistakable.
One of them smirked. "Looks like the road delivered us a gift."
Lin Chen's fingers tightened around his knife.
Great. First step into the wider world and I meet people who want to rob me. This world has a sense of humor, doesn't it?
The leader took a step forward. "Hand over anything valuable. This path isn't for mortals."
Lin Chen forced himself to stand straight. "I don't have anything valuable."
The man laughed. "Everyone has something valuable. Sometimes it's on their body."
The mark on Lin Chen's chest grew warm.
Too warm.
The silver-gray grass around his feet bent slightly toward him.
Lin Chen felt a pressure behind his eyes, as if something ancient was stirring, irritated.
No. Not now. I don't even know what you are.
The leader lunged.
Instinct moved Lin Chen's body.
He stepped back—and the ground beneath the bandit's foot sank, as if the earth had turned soft. The man stumbled.
The second bandit cursed and slashed.
Lin Chen raised his arm to block—
And the blade slid off, as if striking dull stone.
Lin Chen stared at his own forearm in shock.
Did I just… block a cultivator's blade?
The third bandit froze. "Boss… this kid's wrong."
The leader's face darkened. "He's carrying something he doesn't understand."
The air thickened.
The stone pillars hummed faintly.
From deep within the mist, something shifted.
The bandits felt it too.
Fear flickered in their eyes.
"This place…" one muttered. "It's waking up."
The leader clicked his tongue. "Forget him.
This road isn't stable. Move."
They backed away, disappearing into the fog as quickly as they had come.
Lin Chen stood alone, heart hammering.
His arms trembled.
So… I didn't win. The road scared them off. That's worse. That means this place is more dangerous than they are.
The silver-gray grass slowly straightened.
The pillars fell silent.
Lin Chen exhaled shakily.
"…Thanks," he muttered to the empty land, not sure who he was thanking.
Far away, a bell rang once.
Somewhere unseen, something had noticed him stepping onto a road that should not exist.
And the path ahead twisted, eager and patient.