Rong Tian paid for the dried roots. Instead of leaving immediately, he adjusted his cloth bag and asked, “Do people still spend the night at the Fire God Temple?” “The temple is already in ruins,” the old coachman replied. “Merchants used to burn incense there before entering the forest. Now only beggars, workers stranded after dark, and people with no door to knock on sleep there.” “Will Lao Wang be there tonight?” one of the disciples asked. The stall owner replied, “If he isn’t drunk in a ditch, he’ll be there. But if he really has been shouting Hanim’s name too loudly, even the Fire God might not want to share a roof with him.” Rong Tian nodded, put away the dried roots, and left the medicine stall. He passed the coachmen’s gathering place and heard two men arguing over whether Lao Wang was merely a braggart or a thief of secrets, the

Rong Tian descended the stone steps of the Fire God Temple without looking back. Behind him, Lao Wang was still arguing against his companions’ mockery, his voice slipping out of the old hall along with the smell of damp wood struggling to burn.“If my mouth is lying, let the Fire God slap me himself!” Lao Wang shouted from inside. The white-bearded old beggar tapped his stick against the floor once. “This old god has already lost half his face, Lao Wang. Don’t add to his workload with your boasting.”The young beggar let out a brief laugh, followed by a rough scolding from the burly man with the injured arm. Their voices mixed with the hiss of damp wood before being scattered by the wind blowing through the temple’s cracked roof tiles.Rong Tian continued down the steps. He did not use any lightness skill that might leave an unusual impression, only the ordinary pace of a traveler hoping to return before night swallowed the road.Halfway down the stairs, he stopped beneath an old tre

The traveling medicine seller tapped his medicine case. “All of you are being too bold. If the Black Bat King’s mark really was found on the altar, your words could be interpreted as defending the black path.” The pale cloth merchant immediately backed away from the table. “What mark?” “A black wing,” the medicine seller replied. “There was ash on the altar and a trace shaped like a bat’s wing. This isn’t the work of ordinary people.” An old vegetable seller standing outside the entrance hugged her basket against her body. “Last night they were still asking for leftover bread in the market. This morning you’re already talking about marks on the altar before their families even know they should be mourning.” The neatly dressed man turned toward her irritably. “Old woman, stay out of this if you know nothing about

The side door of the Rong family residence opened with a creak that was almost swallowed by the sound of the night wind. Rong Tian entered through the rear corridor carrying the smell of damp earth, smoke from the old temple, and traces of cold ash that still clung to the folds of his sleeve.A small oil lamp burned in the back room. Its light rested against the wooden walls and made the shadows of the chairs, medicine shelves, and cloth curtains shift as though none of them wanted to remain still.Aunt Lan emerged from behind the kitchen curtain with a bowl of medicine in her hands. Fatigue showed on her face, but her eyes immediately sharpened when she noticed the dust on the hem of Rong Tian’s robe.“Young Master has finally returned,” she said softly. “People outside are still talking about the Fire God Temple.”Rong Tian closed the side door without making a loud sound. “Starting tonight, don’t stand too close to the windows.”The bowl in Aunt Lan’s hands trembled slightly. Steam