The merchant’s cart rattled along the dirt road, pulled by a mule that looked older than Blackroot itself. Yan Qiu sat in the back among sacks of grain and dried vegetables, watching the village shrink behind him until the trees swallowed it whole.

  He had found the merchant at the crossroads, the same one who used to visit Blackroot every few months to trade cloth and salt for whatever the villagers could spare. The man had recognized him right away.

  “Why are you leaving for the city?” the merchant asked, glancing back over his shoulder. “And alone at that. A boy your age should be playing at home, not wandering the roads.”

  Yan Qiu laughed, though it came out nervous. “I want to see the world.”

  “Such big words for such a small man.”

  They rode in silence for a while, the cart creaking and the mule’s hooves hitting packed earth. Yan Qiu watched the forest pass by, the trees growing taller as they moved further from home.

  “Do you know anything about the Barched Wind Sect?” he asked.

  The merchant scratched his chin. “Not much. It is a famous sect around Dusthaven and the nearby villages. You could find more in the city.” He paused. “Have you brought enough coins to stay there?”

  “I have fifteen copper.”

  “Fifteen?” The merchant laughed, a short bark that startled the mule. “That is not a moment to joke, young man.”

  “I am serious. I thought it would be enough for a few days.”

  The laughter died. The merchant turned to look at him properly, and something in his face changed. “Fifteen copper will not last you a whole day in Dusthaven. The city is not like your village.”

  Yan Qiu’s stomach dropped. “Then what do I do? I cannot go back.”

  “You will have to find work. Inns and shops sometimes hire workers for a while. If you are lucky, someone will take you in.” The merchant faced forward again. “You will have to be lucky.”

  They talked about other things after that. The merchant pointed out different trees and told him which ones were good for firewood and which ones had snakes. He explained how to tell direction by the moss on the bark and warned him about the bandits that sometimes roamed the eastern roads.

  The hours passed. The forest gave way to farmland, then scattered houses, and finally the walls of Dusthaven in the distance.

  The city was exactly as Yan Qiu remembered from his first visit. Loud and crowded and too much to take in at once. Carts rolled through the streets while merchants shouted prices and children ran between the legs of adults. The smell of cooking meat mixed with horse dung and incense from a nearby temple.

  The merchant stopped the cart near the main gate.

  “Thank you for bringing me here.” Yan Qiu reached into his pouch and pulled out four copper coins. “This should be enough, right?”

  The merchant looked at the coins in his palm. Then he closed Yan Qiu’s fingers around them and pushed his hand back.

  “Keep it.”

  “What?”

  “Keep it. How can I take coins from a boy like you? The heavens would never forgive me.” He reached into his own pouch and pulled out five more coins, pressing them into Yan Qiu’s other hand. “I do not earn much, but this should feed you for a meal or two.”

  “I cannot take this.”

  “Just take it, boy.” The merchant pushed the coins into his hand and would not let go until Yan Qiu’s fingers closed around them. “Now go. Find work, find shelter, and do not waste what you have.”

  Yan Qiu’s eyes stung. He blinked hard and bowed low, his forehead nearly touching his knees.

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  “Thank you. I will not forget this.”

  “Do not forget me when you become a cultivator.” The merchant grinned, showing a gap where two teeth were missing. “Now get going before I change my mind.”

  They parted ways at the gate, and Yan Qiu watched the cart disappear into the crowd before turning to face the city alone.

  He felt nervous, overwhelmed by everything around him. But he had come this far. He would not turn back now.

  Finding work was harder than he thought.

  He tried the inns first, walking through the front doors with his bundle on his back and asking if they needed help. Some of the innkeepers did not even bother to answer, just waved him away like a fly. Others looked him up and down, asked a few questions, and shook their heads when they found out he had no experience.

  He tried the shops next. A butcher told him he was too skinny to carry meat. A tailor said he needed someone who could sew. A blacksmith laughed and asked if he wanted to lose a finger.

  By the time the sun started sinking toward the rooftops, Yan Qiu had been turned away more times than he could count. His feet hurt and his stomach was growling. He needed to find something soon.

  He turned down a narrow street, following the smell of cooking food. At the corner of an alley, he found a worn-down inn. The sign above the door was faded and cracked, and the building looked like it might fall over if someone leaned against it too hard.

  But the windows glowed with lamplight and he could hear laughter from inside.

  Yan Qiu pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The inside was bigger than he expected, with a low ceiling and wooden beams blackened by years of smoke. Tables filled the room, most of them taken by men drinking from clay cups and talking in loud voices. The air was thick with the smell of liquor and roasted meat.

  Most inns had maid servants to bring drinks and food to the customers. But here, a boy about his age was moving between the tables, carrying a tray of cups and dodging elbows like he had done it a thousand times. He had a round face and bright eyes, and he moved with a kind of energy that seemed out of place in such a run-down spot.

  The boy spotted Yan Qiu standing by the door and made his way over, a wide smile spreading across his face.

  “How can I serve the young master?”

  Yan Qiu blinked. “Young master?” He turned to look behind him, but there was no one there.

  “Why are you looking away? I am talking to you.”

  “I am not a young master.”

  The boy laughed, loud enough that a few nearby drinkers glanced over. “Well, you are young, and you came to our inn. That makes you a young master.”

  Yan Qiu stared at him. The joke made no sense. Who even talked like that? He forced a smile anyway, not wanting to be rude.

  “I am looking for work.”

  The boy’s eyebrows shot up. “You come to an inn and ask the only person working here to give up his job? Are you trying to make me homeless?”

  “No, I just—”

  “What can you do? Can you cook?”

  “No.”

  “Can you clean?”

  “No.”

  “Can you serve liquor without spilling it everywhere?”

  “I have never tried.”

  “Then what can you do?”

  Yan Qiu paused. “I can catch rabbits and gather herbs.”

  The boy stared at him like he had grown a second head. “Rabbits? Herbs? This is not a village. Where would you even find rabbits here? And if the alchemists heard you talking about gathering herbs, they would turn you into a pill.”

  “I can learn. Please, I need this. I do not have enough coins, and I cannot go back to my village.”

  The boy’s face changed for a moment, something passing behind his eyes. Then he grinned again, wider than before.

  “Well, first you have to go through an evaluation. Then a trial period. Then you have to spar with me to prove your worth. Only after all that—”

  A hand came down on the back of his head with a sharp smack.

  “Stop spouting nonsense and get back to work.”

  The voice belonged to a man who had come from somewhere behind the counter. He was older, maybe in his forties, with a weathered face and calloused hands that showed years of hard work. His clothes were plain but clean, and he carried himself like someone used to being obeyed.

  “Innkeeper!” The boy rubbed his head, still grinning. “I was just testing him, you know. Seeing if he had what it takes.”

  Another smack.

  “Hurry up. I do not want customers complaining again.”

  The boy ran off, and the innkeeper turned to Yan Qiu with a tired look.

  “Ignore whatever he said. He does that to everyone who walks through the door.” He looked Yan Qiu over, taking in his worn clothes and the bundle on his back. “You said you wanted work?”

  “Yes.”

  “I cannot offer much. But you will eat three meals a day, and I will pay you fifteen copper coins daily. More if you work hard.”

  Fifteen copper coins. It was more than his family earned in a week back in Blackroot.

  “That is more than enough.” Yan Qiu bowed deeply. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  The innkeeper waved a hand. “Do not thank me yet. The work is hard, and that one—” he pointed his thumb toward the boy, who was now balancing three cups on one arm while arguing with a customer, “—will drive you mad within a day.”

  Yan Qiu looked at the boy, who caught his eye and winked.

  “I can handle it.”

  “We will see.” The innkeeper turned and walked back toward the counter. “You start tomorrow. Find a corner to sleep in tonight.”

  Yan Qiu watched him go and looked around the inn. It was loud and smelled like old liquor, but it was warm and there was food and he had a job.

  The boy appeared at his side, still grinning.

  “So you are staying? Good. It gets boring here with just me and the old man.” He stuck out his hand. “I am Xu Liang.”

  Yan Qiu took it. “Yan Qiu.”

  “Yan Qiu.” Xu Liang repeated the name. “Not bad. Welcome to the worst inn in Dusthaven.”

  He laughed and disappeared back into the crowd. Yan Qiu stood alone by the door, feeling something he had not felt in a long time.

  It was not quite hope. But it was close.