Mistbrook was not merely larger than Stonebrook—it was louder, dirtier, and exponentially more dangerous.
Sitting directly on the provincial trade artery, the town was a chaotic melting pot of itinerant rogue cultivators, mercenary bands, spirit-herb merchants, and agents from the rival Iron-Bear Clan. Where Stonebrook was a quiet family fortress, Mistbrook was an open market driven by raw, unchecked greed.
Before stepping past the outer wooden watchtowers of the town, Lin Xuan pulled his companion into the shadow of a roadside bamboo grove.
Arrogant as he was, Lin Xuan was not stupid. He knew his dual-root efficiency made him superior in theory, but he also understood basic threat metrics. Two young children wearing pristine, silk-embroidered robes of the Lin Clan, carrying heavy purses of copper and spirit-stones, walking into a lawless border town controlled by a rival family were statistically ninety percent likely to attract low-level bandits or hostile clan scouts.
"Put these on," Lin Xuan said, drawing two coarse, dark-gray wool cloaks from his travel pack.
Lin Chen took the heavy fabric, slipping it over her shoulders and pulling the wide hood down over her hair. "Is this really necessary, Xuan'er? The Lin Clan's name—"
"The Lin Clan’s name holds weight in Stonebrook," Lin Xuan interrupted, adjusting his own hood so it cast a deep shadow over his nine-year-old face. "Here, it is a target. If an Iron-Bear elder sees us, he won't care about my dual-root optimization; he will see an opportunity to eliminate two main-branch descendants without witnesses. Anonymity is a low-cost, high-yield defensive protocol." Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
Once their fine silk was hidden beneath coarse traveler's cloth and their aura signatures were dampened by tight breath control, they blended seamlessly into the tide of merchants flowing through Mistbrook’s western gate.
The main thoroughfare was a sensory assault.
Unlike the orderly stalls of Stonebrook, Mistbrook’s central avenue was lined with tall, multi-tiered timber houses, open-air auction parlors, and dense rows of spirit-herb shops. Street hawkers shouted over the din of horse-drawn carriages, displaying caged low-tier spirit beasts, rare mineral ores, and foreign martial manuals.
Lin Xuan walked with his chin slightly down, his dark eyes constantly scanning the crowd. His mind immediately went to work mapping the urban environment—evaluating escape routes, guard density, and the average cultivation stage of the passersby.
Fascinating, Lin Xuan analyzed silently as they passed a group of heavily armed mercenaries. The background Qi density here is slightly lower than near our iron mines, but the human circulation is three times higher. Most of these mercenaries are stuck at Level 1, Sub-Level 1 or Sub-Level 2 of Qi Gathering. Their meridian channels are filthy, choked with unrefined herb residues and crude force-strikes. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Despite hiding his identity, his internal contempt burned just as hot. He looked at the rough cultivators pushing through the streets not with fear, but with cold, detached judgment. They were brute-force tools, wasting their lifespans on unoptimized techniques.
"Xuan'er, look over there," Lin Chen whispered, pointing quietly from beneath her hood toward a grand, three-story building constructed from dark ironwood, flying a banner painted with a golden leaf. "That's the Seven-Treasures Pavilion. The shopkeeper in Stonebrook said they hold the largest herb inventory in the eastern district."
Lin Xuan eyed the tall building. Guards in polished iron armor stood at the entrance—cultivators at Level 1, Sub-Level 4, far stronger than the average street mercenary.
"That is where we get your Spirit-Cleansing Lotus," Lin Xuan said smoothly, tightening his cloak around his shoulders. "Keep your head down, keep your breath cycle quiet, and let me handle the transaction."
Stepping out of the dirty street, the two disguised siblings walked up the stone steps of the grand pavilion, ready to secure what they had come for—unaware that even a hidden dragon eventually leaves footprints in the dust.