Bao Kun had no intention of coming along. Both Bao Kun and Jin agreed that the best way for Jin to consolidate his learnings now would be to gain some experience .After some discussion, the two decided the simplest way for Jin to gain experience was to join an escort group — to stay alert, fend off a few bandits, and earn some coin. Bao Kun, however, planned to remain behind for Boss Wang’s sixty-fifth birthday. Jin thought to himself 'Does the old bastard think I wont run away'

Recalling his forest training session Jin figured that Bao Kun didn't particularly care if Jin was to run away. Not because he didn't care about losing his "cult inductee" , rather, because he was confident he could catch him no matter where he went. Having finished his travel and contemplation Jin had finally arrived at the nearest escort group, The still river freight group. Having worked here before to gather some travel funds Jin was able to join a convoy within just a few hours of his arrival.

Most of the members he had seen before at other missions, they were full time workers for the group, hence , were staple in most convoys. There was only one other free lance member in the convoy, his name was Shen Fei. Overall the composition seemed pretty solid, although the ratio between free lancers and full-timers was a bit unusual, it didn't seem to be rather note worthy at the time. Jin then greeted the various members before convoy started moving. The mission was going to be almost a week long so he figured it'd be best if he were in everyone's good graces.

Shen Fei and Jin were placed together at the back of the convoy. Shen Fei then spoke to Jin, "Brother Jin, were you perchance able to see Jianghu monthly's new top ten list of female warriors". Jin gave him a sideways look. “They make a new one every month, don’t they? What’s the point?”. “Entertainment,” Shen Fei replied with a grin. “This month the Jade Phoenix of Yunnan reached second place.”

Jin snorted. “That sword dancer with the pink fans? She looks like she’s fanning mosquitoes. ”Shen Fei laughed. “Harsh! She’s light as silk and sharp as wind. Poetry in motion.”. “Poetry doesn’t win fights,” Jin said, tapping the halberd at his shoulder. “The Iron Maiden of the North should be first. You can feel her strikes through the ground.”

“Too much iron, not enough maiden,” Shen Fei teased. “Strength alone doesn’t make the best.”. “And what does?” Jin asked. “Being fashionable?”. “No,” Shen Fei said, still smiling. “Being steady. I’d give first place to the Moon-Veil Swordswoman of Ling Pass.”. Jin frowned. “That hermit who guards a ruined bridge? She’s barely seen outside her valley.”. “Exactly,” Shen Fei said. “She’s held that post ten years without losing once. Doesn’t chase fame, doesn’t move for praise. That sort of strength is rare.”

Jin clicked his tongue. “Sounds like a lonely way to live.”. “Maybe,” Shen Fei said. “But someone has to guard the bridge.” They walked in silence for a while, wagon wheels creaking ahead. “You think too much about this stuff,” Jin muttered. Shen Fei chuckled. “And you think too little.”

As the road stretched on, Jin and Shen drifted from one topic to another—weather, food stalls, rumors from distant towns. Eventually, Shen steered the conversation toward coin.

“Did you know,” Shen said, “the highest-paying outer-deacon positions in the whole Jianghu aren’t in the five great clans or the nine great sects? It’s actually the Xuán Clan.”

Jin raised a brow. “The iron merchants? What does a bunch of traders need deacons for?”

Shen chuckled. “In line with recent trends, many merchant families have been merging with mid-sized martial clans. Once they have blades and coin under the same roof, they monopolize local markets—and start hiring wandering martial artists by the dozen.”

Jin frowned. “What point is there for people like us to care about merchant trends?”

Shen smiled. “That, Brother Jin, is why the villagers we passed kept mistaking you for a beggar.”

For a moment Jin stared, then both of them burst out laughing, the sound rolling down the dusty road behind them.

although for the most part conversation stayed light, Jin noticed Shen was growing more and more tense over time. Deciding to see what was tensing Shen Fei up Jin spoke up "Brother Shen, you seem to be growing a bit tense, is there something bothering you". Shen Fei responded "Brother Jin as you know most low class escort missions face at least one or two bandit attacks along the way?", "sure", Jin said. "Keeps things interesting".

Jin having been chased and beaten halfway dead by his master for multiple weeks felt almost numb to the thought of a bandit attack at this point. However, he was still tense — polite in a way that made Shen Fei glance twice.

Shen replied to Jin "Then don't you find it a bit surprising that we haven't faced any yet?". Jin replied "Although it is a bit unusual, I wouldn't say that it is something completely out of the norm". To this Shen said "That is true, however, the most alarming factor is the demeanor of the agency workers", "what about them" Jin said. Shen spoke "They are on edge, for a group of low ranking escorts having travelled for nearly a week without encountering any difficulties, most would be slacking of by this point", "yet, they seem to be overly aware of their surroundings, it almost feels like they are anticipating something".

Jin although a bit concerned now told Shen "As much as this situation is unusual it is still within the realm of what can attributed to luck", Shen Fei smiled in response to this, he spoke somewhat seriously "Let's just say, brother Jin, the only thing rarer than a honest merchant is a lucky one".

Jin acknowledged what Shen said, but he didn't reply. The wheels creaked on as they travelled that night, however, for the first time since the convoy had started Jin felt a stark sense of discomfort.

And so came the last night before they reached their destination.

The sun bled into the horizon, staining the road in gold and dust. By the time the convoy stopped, the air smelled of smoke and tired horses.

The Still River Freight men made camp with practiced ease. Fires flared, stew boiled, and laughter returned to faces that had been tight all day. Jin sat near the last wagon, his halberd resting against a barrel, watching the flames catch the night.

Shen Fei joined him, bowl in hand, his easy grin back in place. “Brother Jin, eat before the stew cools. It might be our last decent meal before the city.”

“If this counts as decent,” Jin muttered, sniffing the bowl. The smell of spice and saltwater drifted up, richer than he expected.

One of the full-timers, a broad man with a scar under his eye, clapped Jin’s shoulder. “Eat up, brothers. The road’s clear, and tomorrow’s the last leg. When we reach the city, the drinks are on me.”

“Music to my ears,” Jin said, already half-done with his portion.

Shen Fei chuckled softly. “Careful. You’ll burn your tongue.”

“Better that than starving.” Jin leaned back on his hands, staring at the darkening sky. “Hard to believe no one’s attacked us yet.”

“Maybe fortune’s finally smiling,” Shen Fei said, though his tone lacked its usual warmth. He took another sip of stew, then paused. A faint bitterness lingered on his tongue, a metallic aftertaste that didn’t belong.

His gaze flicked around the fire. The full-timers were still laughing, but each of them ate slower than before—small bites, careful sips.

Shen Fei forced a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said lightly, rising to his feet. “Forgot to check something with the quartermaster.”

Jin grunted an acknowledgment, too focused on finishing his meal to notice anything strange.

Behind the wagons, Shen Fei steadied his breathing. The edges of his vision were already softening; the drug was quick. He drew a slim dagger from his boot and hid it away where the searchers would never think to look—a single contingency. When he returned, the color had drained slightly from his face, but his smile was steady.

“All clear,” he said, sitting back down.

Jin yawned. “You worry too much. Let’s turn in before the captain finds something for us to do.”

“Agreed.” Shen Fei’s grin returned, gentle, almost tired. “Wake me if I start snoring.”

Jin laughed. “If you snore louder than the wagons, I’ll throw you off the road myself.”

The full-timers chuckled as the two wandered toward their tent. “Rest easy, brothers,” someone called after them. “We’ve got the watch tonight.”

Jin waved without looking back. The firelight danced over the bowls left by the fire, gleaming faintly red.

Inside the tent, the air was warm and thick. Jin lay down, closing his eyes with a satisfied sigh. His limbs felt heavier than they should have, his thoughts blurring at the edges.

“Tired?” Shen Fei’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“More than usual,” Jin mumbled. “That stew was strong stuff…”

“Mm.” Shen Fei’s reply came slower, quieter. “Sleep well, Brother Jin.”

The world tilted. The fire outside bent and dimmed, and then everything went black.

Jin woke to the sound of dripping water.

His head throbbed. His tongue was thick and dry. The air stank of rust. When he tried to move, metal bit into his wrists—chains.

“Brother Jin?” Shen Fei’s voice came from the shadows, hoarse but steady.

“Shen?” Jin forced his eyes open. Torchlight flickered weakly, revealing stone walls slick with moisture. The ceiling was low, carved crudely from earth.

Shen Fei sat against the opposite wall, his hands bound as well. “Looks like we’ve arrived at our destination.”

Jin followed his gaze to the corner. Barrels were stacked neatly there, each stamped with the Liáng Consortium seal—inked over with a thin crimson streak.

Realization crept through him like ice.

Shen Fei’s expression hardened. “It seems we were the cargo.”