To steer clear of needless quarrels and trouble, Lingcai tugged Scarlet Leaf and slipped out of the inn like mist peeling off a ridge. Even outside, Xueyu’s howls droned from the coffin, a wind trapped in wood.

We’re bailing—yep, bailing.

Given the mess, going back now felt like walking into a storm. So Lingcai and Scarlet Leaf wandered the streets, two drifting leaves riding a city breeze.

Qiyan City’s streets, compared to Sata City, were both mountain-born, yet their heights split sharper, like jagged steps carved by rivers. Tall buildings clung to hill feet, bodies pressed to the slope like stone lizards sunning. From a first-floor window, the view was first-floor earth; climb to the sixth, stare out, and it still framed first-floor ground—like the mountain pinning the horizon.

Mountains here rose steep as knives; a single tower might kiss roads at different altitudes like a loom crossing threads. First-timers felt the place was a touch magical, a dream stitched with cliff-lines.

That staggered rise and fall braided the city into a maze. Every few steps, you stood at a cliff’s lip, the street a narrow ledge above a green spill of pines.

“This time we stick to the main road,” Lingcai said, finger raised like a flag, tone steady as a drawn bow. “No more alleys. This city’s tougher than the capital. Last time, LilyBell led us. If we get lost now, we’ll be ghosts on a stair.”

Scarlet Leaf hugged the Crimson Cherry Blossom Blade, yawn long as winter smoke. “Yeah, yeah, main road. But even on the main road, we don’t have a map, do we?”

Hands on hips, Lingcai sounded confident, like sunlight on water. “We’re just strolling. Who needs a map? The main road’s basically one ribbon, maybe two turns. We’ll remember the path together. No way we get lost on that.”

Ten minutes later—

“Uh… didn’t we just walk this way?”

“Told you. We looped. Lingcai, your sense of direction needs work. I’ll lead.”

Twenty minutes later—

“…Where is this…?”

“Weren’t you leading?! You’re asking me?!”

Right. Lost, like a boat in fog.

Thud.

Lingcai leaned her forehead into a pillar, a quiet headbutt against fate. She squatted, hands over face, like a crane folding its wings.

“Scarlet Leaf, I shouldn’t have trusted you…”

“Breathe! We just need to ask for directions,” Scarlet Leaf said, patting Lingcai’s drooping mood like smoothing ruffled feathers. She tilted her head, frowning, thoughts stirring like clouds gathering.

Lingcai looked up, puzzled. “Scarlet Leaf? What’s wrong? What’re you thinking?”

At last, Scarlet Leaf couldn’t hold it in.

“Lingcai. The inn we’re staying at… what’s it called?”

“…”

“…”

They locked eyes in silence, two stones looking for a stream.

Scarlet Leaf read the quiet like ink. “…Lingcai, don’t tell me you also—”

Lingcai buried her face again, voice mournful as rain on eaves. “Sorry. I forgot too…”

Right—birds of a feather. That married-couple sync? Better left unused.

“Anyway, let’s just keep walking,” Scarlet Leaf said, resigned, turning a dead horse into a living one. “If we follow the main road, we’ll spot a familiar sign. We just need to think carefully.”

Lingcai suddenly lifted her head, standing as if a wind caught her ear, body angled to listen.

“Hel… help me…”

…Huh?

She held the pose for a breath, then blinked at Scarlet Leaf, baffled. “Scarlet Leaf…? Did you hear a voice just now?”

“Huh? Nope.” Scarlet Leaf blinked, confused, like a cat hearing nothing the moon hears.

But Lingcai was almost certain she’d heard something. Faint, yes—but unmistakably a girl’s voice, like a flute from far hills.

She rubbed her temples, checking if fatigue had turned to phantom sound. Then, that pleading thread returned, weaving clearer in her mind.

“Mom… Mom… where are… you…”

This time, she knew she wasn’t mistaken. She turned toward the sound, eyes tracking a zigzag path that fell down the slope like a snake of stone. Lingcai tugged Scarlet Leaf, urgency pooling in her gaze like storm-dark water.

“I heard it! A girl calling for help! Let’s go down!”

Scarlet Leaf startled—she’d heard nothing, unease flickering like a moth around a lamp.

She blocked Lingcai. “Wait… if we rush down, we’ll get lost again. And I really didn’t hear it. Maybe you misheard?”

“I’m sure! She was calling for her mother. Could be human traffickers, right?”

Lingcai’s justice flared hot, a blade drawn for a shadow.

“If it is traffickers, we can’t waste time. Another breath and she’s gone. We should check.”

Scarlet Leaf couldn’t win that tug of heart. She sighed and followed, feet quick as water, down the mountain path.

The path ended soon, like a rope with a frayed knot.

At the end sat an old shop, face weathered by years like driftwood. From outside you couldn’t tell what it sold—no sign, no scent. The door hung half-shut, a lid between wake and sleep.

Lingcai and Scarlet Leaf traded looks, two birds on a branch. If Lingcai had heard right, the voice nested here. The slopes on both sides were steep pine, needles like green rain—no place to stand.

…Was this where traffickers bought and sold children?

…Or a den for kidnappers?

Scarlet Leaf set her hand on the Crimson Cherry Blossom Blade at her waist, shoulders still as a pond before wind. She nodded toward the door: ready.

Lingcai nodded back, mouth a thin line. She stepped to the worn wood and knocked.

Thunk, thunk.

Honestly, whatever came through that door wouldn’t surprise her.

Could be a bruiser with a meat-slab face. Could be a crooked old man with eyes like cold nails. Lingcai ticked off her stock images of traffickers like stones on a string.

What happened next still toppled her expectations.

“Welcome! What can I get you?”

The weathered door yanked open. With a bright jingle, a bell chimed, and a dark-skinned youth stood there, grin flashing white as chalk, the word “health” practically painted across his smile.

“Well now, two young ladies—rare and lucky! What do you need? Come in and browse! If you want custom work, please book three days out—orders are stacked, sorry!”

His enthusiasm burned like summer sun, heat rolling off him—no, off the forge behind him.

Lingcai glanced past his shoulder. Inside, a furnace roared, and an anvil crouched among hammers like iron beasts in a den.

Oh. A blacksmith’s shop.

She didn’t care about that right now. Her mind held the girl’s cry like a thread she couldn’t drop.

Maybe the voice came from inside?

She tried a feeler. “Excuse me, did you hear anything strange just now… like a girl calling for help?”

The youth wasn’t listening; his gaze had hooked on the Crimson Cherry Blossom Blade in Scarlet Leaf’s arms. His eyes shone, treasure found in a riverbed.

“I see! That blade in your hands must be remarkable, miss. Need repairs? Don’t worry! With my craft, from sharpening to polish and oil, you’ll pick it up in two hours! Please come inside and see the other work—leave the rest to me!”

Lingcai and Scarlet Leaf stared at his overflowing warmth, two fish watching a waterfall.

This guy… however you looked at him, he didn’t seem like a trafficker at all.