When Jin returned to the forest clearing, the atmosphere was very different from the previous chaos.

  The guards were tending to the wounded, applying ointments and bandages with practiced movements. Some trees were still marked by deep cuts, and the ground bore scars from the battle, but… no one lay lifeless.

  Jin observed the scene in silence, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

  This time no one died.

  It had been troublesome because of the bald man and his strange technique, but overall, the mission had been a success and, of course…

  He felt the light weight of the object in the pocket of his robe, and his smile widened slightly.

  It had definitely been worth chasing him.

  When the guards saw him arrive on horseback, several of them stood and greeted him respectfully.

  “Young Master Jin!”

  “Thank you for your help.”

  The looks that had once been mere courtesy now held genuine admiration, while Han Ping quickly approached, still somewhat disheveled from the fight.

  “Brother Jin, I’m so glad you came back! If you hadn’t returned, I wouldn’t have known what to tell my father.”

  His voice carried a clear sigh of relief. Jin dismounted calmly.

  “Don’t exaggerate. That bald man runs fast, but not that fast.”

  He brushed a bit of dust from his sleeve as if what had happened had been something trivial. But deep down, he knew the outcome could have been very different.

  And this time, fortune had been on his side.

  Once everyone was stable and the wounded properly treated, the guards finished securing the area. The other five bandits, bruised and still mostly unconscious, were tied with thick ropes and fastened to the back of the carriages.

  With everything ready, the caravan set off again. Han Ping walked beside Jin for a moment, glancing sideways at the silver spear. It still had fresh bloodstains near the tip.

  He did not ask anything. Seeing that blood, he simply assumed that peculiar bald bandit no longer existed in this world.

  Jin, for his part, offered no explanations.

  The rest of the journey passed with an almost suspicious calm. The forest was left behind, and the road opened between gentle hills and silent fields. No ambushes or disturbances.

  The trip was so peaceful that, at some point, Jin ended up leaning slightly over his horse.

  The steady sway of the gallop and the mild breeze did the rest.

  I’ll just close my eyes for a moment…

  Several hours later, as the sun began to tilt westward, one of the guards’ voices broke the tranquility.

  “The city! We can see the walls!”

  In the distance, imposing and solid, rose the high walls of their destination city. Its towers stood out, and movement at the main gates was already visible even from afar.

  Jin slowly opened his eyes, straightening in the saddle. They had arrived.

  The caravan moved toward a special line upon reaching the enormous city gates. Unlike common merchants and travelers, they presented official documents, which the guards reviewed quickly.

  After a brief inspection of the carriages and goods, they were allowed entry.

  The streets were full of movement: street vendors, common people, and the occasional lone cultivator, carriages passing under the constant bustle.

  Once inside, and after ensuring the delivery of the goods was placed in proper hands, Han Ping approached Jin with a sincere smile.

  “Brother Jin, since everything went well, how about having lunch with us? The Han Family always rewards those who help us.”

  Jin considered it for a moment. The idea of a hot and peaceful meal was tempting… but he gently shook his head.

  “Thank you, but I have things to do. The mission has already been completed, and I need to return to the sect.”

  His tone was polite but firm. Hearing that, Han Ping could not help showing a slight trace of disappointment, though he quickly replaced it with enthusiasm.

  “I understand. But whenever you wish, you are free to visit the Han Family. You will always be welcome.”

  As he spoke, he took an official document and stamped it with an elegant seal bearing the emblem of the Han Family, formally marking the mission as completed. Then he handed the paper to Jin with both hands.

  “With this, you will be able to register the mission without problems.”

  Jin received the document and nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  He tucked the paper inside his robe, feeling the weight of the day finally settle on his shoulders.

  The mission had ended.

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  After parting with cordial greetings, Jin separated from the group and began walking aimlessly through the city.

  The contrast with the small city where the Han Family resided was evident.

  The avenues were wider, the buildings taller, and there was a greater flow of cultivators.

  Jin walked calmly, hands behind his back, observing the various stalls lining the main streets. Artisans selling talismans, merchants offering low-quality spiritual herbs.

  However, what truly captured his attention was the aroma.

  A street food stall released an intense and spiced fragrance. Several skewers of meat sizzled slowly on a grill.

  “Red hill rabbit! Abundant in the area and delicious grilled!” proclaimed the vendor proudly.

  Upon hearing that, Jin could not help raising an eyebrow.

  “Rabbit…?”

  He ordered one out of curiosity. After paying, he took the first bite while continuing to walk. As he tasted the flavor, his eyes widened slightly.

  The meat was tender, juicy, with a light smoky touch and spices that enhanced its natural flavor. It had no spiritual energy, but it was honestly delicious.

  Not bad at all…

  He finished the skewer before realizing it and, without admitting it out loud, bought another.

  While eating, he ventured into side streets, exploring small shops, inner courtyards, and alleys full of daily life. People in their everyday routines, children playing in broad daylight, and elders playing board games under the shade.

  More than searching for something specific, he was simply satisfying his curiosity.

  After all… he would not always have the opportunity to go out and explore the outside world.

  And for now, he could allow himself to enjoy the moment.

  After wandering through much of the city, the sky slowly began to darken. Lanterns were lit one by one, bathing the streets in a warm and dim light.

  Jin decided it was time to find lodging, so he chose one of the largest inns near the main avenue. It was not excessively luxurious, but neither was it vulgar; decent enough to spend the night without trouble.

  As he crossed the entrance, several gazes turned toward him.

  Conversations lowered in tone. Some customers evaluated him curiously.

  But upon noticing the insignia hanging from his waist — the clear mark of his sect — most quickly averted their eyes, losing interest or, rather, avoiding unnecessary trouble.

  Only a group of young people at a side table continued observing him.

  They were clearly disciples of some sect: clean garments, swords resting at their sides, and a rather captivating presence. They whispered among themselves while casting discreet — or not so discreet — glances in his direction.

  It was impossible not to notice their looks, and Jin could not help thinking.

  …Troublesome.

  Without paying them further attention, he walked directly to the counter.

  “A room for tonight.”

  The innkeeper nodded politely, gave a quick glance at the insignia on his chest, and asked no unnecessary questions. After paying, he received a wooden key with a number engraved on it.

  Jin climbed the wooden stairs that creaked slightly under his steps.

  The second-floor corridor was lit by hanging lanterns. He walked until he found the door with the corresponding number.

  He inserted the key and entered, making sure to close the door behind him. Once inside the room, Jin let out a faint sigh.

  He removed the upper part of his robe, revealing a perfectly chiseled body. Every muscle was precisely defined, not in an exaggerated way, but as the natural result of countless hours of cultivation and combat. However, several scars crossed his torso and back, silent marks of effort and determination.

  He lit the oil lamp, whose flame cast soft shadows dancing along the walls. Then he sat in a lotus position on the bed.

  He closed his eyes, and his breathing became slow and steady.

  He began to circulate Qi through his meridians smoothly, guiding it in harmonious cycles. The flow was stable, refined. After several complete circulations, his mind calmed and any residual tension from the day disappeared.

  When he opened his eyes, they were clearer, deeper. Then he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his robe.

  He had postponed this all day and could no longer contain his curiosity. Slowly, he took out an object.

  A ring black as the abyss now rested in the palm of his hand. Its surface was smooth, but when tilted under the lamp’s light, strange patterns engraved on it could be seen. They did not seem decorative… but ancient.

  Jin observed it in silence.

  Without a doubt, something curious… I wonder what you have inside.

  He held the ring before his face for a few seconds. The lamp’s flame reflected faintly on its dark surface. He could not help hesitating.

  Then, with a serious expression, he spoke to it.

  “Ummm… excuse me, is anyone there…… Hello, if anyone can hear me, you can come out or speak.”

  What followed was an awkward silence. The room remained as still as before.

  Jin narrowed his eyes and lightly shook the ring, as if that might awaken some sleeping spirit.

  “Uhm… I suppose I expected too much.”

  He let out a resigned sigh.

  Perhaps not all rings come with an old master trapped inside…

  He tried to recall what he had read about storage artifacts. If he was not mistaken, the most common way to open them required spiritual consciousness… something only cultivators at the Foundation Establishment realm could use with ease.

  And he had not yet reached that realm. He could not help clicking his tongue in annoyance.

  “How troublesome.”

  Then he remembered the second available method. It was not elegant, but sometimes it worked on artifacts without a recognized owner. Jin closed his eyes again.

  Guiding the Qi from his dantian, he made it circulate through his meridians, down his shoulders, along his arms until concentrating it in the palm of his hand.

  Then, through his fingertips, he carefully introduced his Qi into the ring.

  For one second, nothing happened.

  The next—

  He felt a slight resistance, like a thin membrane blocking the passage. That sensation caused Jin’s eyes to open slightly.

  There is something.

  With that discovery, Jin became excited and, without thinking too much, increased the flow of Qi toward the ring.

  What had initially been a cautious exploration turned into a steady current. Instead of breaking some barrier or activating a visible mechanism, he felt the ring absorb his energy like a dry sponge thrown into water.

  Jin’s brow furrowed as he continued sending more Qi, expecting some kind of reaction, but nothing changed. The ring remained dark; the engraved patterns on its surface emitted no light or vibration whatsoever.

  How much more do you need?

  Jin hesitated to continue, but stubbornness overcame prudence and he kept feeding it, determined to see what would happen.

  Soon he felt the emptiness in his meridians, that slight weakness that announced his reserve was descending to a dangerous point. Just as he was about to cut the flow to avoid exhausting himself completely, the ring stopped absorbing his Qi.

  For an instant, it remained motionless in his hand, and then it emitted a glow that momentarily blinded him.

  When he opened his eyes, something had appeared on the bed in front of him with a faint dry sound.

  Jin opened his eyes completely.

  Resting on the sheets was an old manual, its edges almost burned and the corners blackened as if it had survived a fire. Several pages were charred, and the spine looked fragile, as if it might fall apart if handled roughly.

  Somewhat doubtful, Jin took the manual in his hands, expecting the pages to crumble at the slightest touch.

  However, as soon as his fingers made contact, he noticed the material was much more resistant than it appeared. Although the edges were charred and the spine seemed fragile, the pages did not crumble or break apart; on the contrary, they had a firm texture, almost like refined leather.

  On the cover, blackened by fire, only one word remained legible.

  “Blood.”

  There was nothing else. The rest of the characters were erased or burned beyond recognition.

  Jin narrowed his eyes. “I see… I suppose this is what that bald man was using.” He recalled how the bandit had expelled blood from his nose before fainting, clearly affected by some demanding technique.

  A technique related to blood… and stored in a storage ring. The coincidence was too obvious.

  “Very well, let’s see what this is about.”

  Carefully, he opened the burned manual.