From the Qin Dynasty onwards, he eked out a living among the heavens.

As night fell in late spring, the darkness was as black as ink, covering the entire territory of Xinzheng.

Outside the city, the Wei River murmurs gently, and the willow-lined embankment is quiet. The evening breeze rustles through the layers of willow branches, slightly easing the oppressive atmosphere around the royal city. In the distance, within the city of Xinzheng, thousands of lights stretch as far as the eye can see, their warm glow outlining the rows of buildings and high walls, revealing a scene of bustling prosperity.

But beneath the city lights, there is no peace or tranquility.

As the capital of Korea, Xinzheng is a place where court intrigues, undercurrents of power struggles, and various factions converge. While it appears bustling and prosperous, it is actually a place where the light and shadows intertwine and dangers lurk. People move about invisibly, and every action must be taken with caution. The slightest rash move can easily draw one into an unknown storm.

Xu Huang stood on the willow embankment, not taking advantage of the night to enter the city.

Nighttime is the best time to hide filth and grime, and it's also the easiest time to expose the presence of strangers. Newcomers, unfamiliar with the city's layout and the strength of its inhabitants, will only find themselves in a passive and vulnerable position if they rashly enter.

He was tall and imposing, with broad shoulders and a thick back, standing like a pillar. His features were sharply defined, possessing a restrained yet handsome appearance, though his expression was naturally calm and composed, neither sharp nor arrogant, making him inconspicuous in the shadows. His simple blue cloth robe was clean and elegant, completely concealing his extremely solid physique; from the outside, he appeared to be just an ordinary, robust stranger from out of town.

For an entire night, Xu Huang remained silently guarding the outskirts of the city, without moving an inch.

The night was long and lonely, with only the sounds of the wind, water, and the faint sounds of distant city walls to my ears.

He quietly observed the city at night, his gaze slowly sweeping over the layout of the city walls, the defenses of the city gates, the changing flow of people at night, silently noting the distribution of buildings in the city, the direction of the streets and alleys, and the subtle atmosphere wandering in the shadows.

The night in Xinzheng is far less peaceful than during the day.

Inside and outside the city walls, elusive presences occasionally flashed by, sometimes light and mysterious, sometimes deep and cold—all belonging to seasoned martial artists with years of training and formidable strength. Some patrolled at night, some secretly observed, and some lurked and wandered about, each with their own duties and their own hidden agendas.

The air currents within the city were erratic, and the tension between light and shadow remained constant, revealing the vigilance and treacherous nature of a royal city in a chaotic world.

Xu Huang concealed all movement, his breathing long and steady, his energy and blood concentrated within his bones, revealing not a trace of his sharpness. He was like an old tree rooted in the embankment, quiet, silent, and uncontested, letting the night soak in and the undercurrents flow, merely observing with a cold eye.

Sitting quietly all night is not about waiting idly, but about getting to the bottom of things.

Figure out the rhythm of this city, the whispers of its winds, and the dangers lurking beneath its prosperity.

The long night has finally ended.

The deep darkness on the horizon slowly faded, and a pale, fish-belly-like dawn spread across the eastern sky. The morning light dispelled the night, and a cool morning breeze, carrying the dew, swept across the land. Roosters crowed one after another, and the fields awoke. Xinzheng, which had been silent all night, slowly began to revive.

The heavy city gates slowly opened, and the soldiers on duty changed shifts, their expressions solemn. Merchants, farmers, and traveling warriors from outside the city gradually gathered and entered the city in an orderly manner through the gate passage.

The noisy fireworks rose again.

Xu Huang then took a step and slowly entered the city with the morning crowd.

The soft morning light fell upon his sharply defined features, dispelling the darkness of the night and making him appear even more clean-cut and composed. He walked steadily and leisurely through the crowd, making his way along the wide main street.

In the early morning, fireworks are at their most vibrant in Xinzheng.

Street vendors set up shop early, their breakfast steaming in the air. The sounds of hawking, laughter, and cartwheels mingled together, creating a lively and bustling atmosphere. People hurried by, each going about their business, a picture of peaceful and prosperous city life.

But Xu Huang knew in his heart that this was just a superficial peace.

The undercurrents that lurked at night did not disappear; they simply concealed themselves as dawn broke, retreating into the shadows to lie in wait for the next opportunity.

He was still in no hurry to settle down, and strolled leisurely along the crisscrossing streets and alleys.

When you first arrive in a new place, before settling down and making a living, you must first familiarize yourself with the area and observe the local customs.

He walked along the main street, turned into the side alleys, passed through the market, and went through residential lanes. His gaze calmly swept over the shops, pavilions, courtyards, and intersections along the way, silently memorizing the street network and regional divisions of the entire southern part of the city.

Along the way, people with martial arts aura could be seen everywhere on the streets.

Guards of mansions, wandering martial artists, and henchmen of powerful figures—all sorts of people, each with their own distinct style. Most of them exude an air of superiority, their movements ostentatious, some with restless steps, others with sharp eyes, unable to conceal their formidable martial arts skills.

Xu Huang saw but did not observe, felt but did not respond.

He moved with composure and calmness, his aura was unremarkable, and when he blended into the crowd, no one could tell that he possessed a profound foundation in martial arts.

He strolled along at a leisurely pace, and before he knew it, he had arrived at the most elegant area in the south of the city.

Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, the clean and orderly blue brick road is flanked by pavilions built along the water, with carved windows and painted beams, elegant and exquisite, quite different from the residences and shops elsewhere. This place was frequented by the powerful and wealthy, where refined tastes and elegance coexisted, making it the most prosperous yet most secluded bustling area in Xinzheng.

In the middle of the street, a two-story wooden building overlooking the water stands out.

With its elegant entrance and rustic wooden building, the Zilan Pavilion in Xinzheng is a place where no one is entertaining guests in the morning. The area in front of the building is clean and tidy, with only servants quietly tending to the interior and exterior.

In the early morning, the Purple Orchid Pavilion sheds the enchanting hustle and bustle of the night, becoming quiet, elegant, and dignified, exuding a refined and aloof charm.

Xu Huang had no intention of lingering or seeking out the secrets of the brothel; he simply passed by the door as usual, walking slowly past.

Just then, a carved wooden window on the second floor was slightly ajar.

Morning light streamed through the window and into the room, illuminating a quiet, dark corner.

A tall, solitary figure stood by the window. The young man had snow-white hair, a cold and handsome face, and sharp, sword-like eyes. He was surrounded by an innate aloofness and icy demeanor.

Wei Zhuang stood by the window at dawn, casually overlooking the morning street scene.

His gaze swept across the room and landed on Xu Huang, who was walking slowly downstairs.

With just one glance, his gaze suddenly froze.

The burly figure downstairs walked with an unnervingly steady gait, landing silently without swaying or shaking. He appeared relaxed and natural, yet his steadiness was almost eerie.

No matter how deliberately a martial artist tries to restrain himself, the opening and closing of his muscles and bones and the flow of his qi and blood will always leave subtle traces, whether light or heavy, floating or sinking.

This person was completely empty, with no outward energy, no sharp edge, and no trace of the restlessness commonly seen in martial artists.

Plain, clean, and calm.

The more ordinary something is, the more abnormal it becomes.

Wei Zhuang's gaze instantly hardened, his sharp eyes piercing through the morning light of the streets and alleys, locking onto the newcomer with the unique caution, vigilance, and scrutiny of a swordsman.

At the same instant, Xu Huang seemed to sense something and slightly raised his eyes.

In the clear morning light, two gazes collided across the distance.

One up, one down, one window, one street.

Eyes facing each other.

Xu Huang's eyes were calm and serene, without any ripples, wariness, hostility, or probing; it was merely a casual and tranquil glance. After a long period of reflection, his state of mind had become as steady as still water, unshaken by external scrutiny or probing.

Wei Zhuang's eyes were dark and cold, with a hidden sharpness. His youthful spirit and swordsmanship were intertwined as he carefully examined this unfamiliar yet composed face.

A silent gaze met, a moment of stillness.

The sounds of people and vehicles in the streets and alleys seemed to be instantly silenced, leaving only two pairs of eyes locked in a silent confrontation.

They both sensed something unusual in each other's eyes.

A moment later, Xu Huang's expression remained unchanged. He slowly withdrew his gaze, his steps steady and unhurried as he walked past the entrance of Zilan Pavilion, gradually disappearing into the distance.

Be calm, do not avoid, do not be arrogant, and do not be impatient.

Upstairs by the window, Wei Zhuang remained standing in the same spot, watching that composed figure recede into the distance, motionless for a long time.

Xinzheng has recently been bustling with activity, attracting visitors from all directions.

This morning, yet another enigmatic stranger stepped into this turbulent royal city.