Wu Hao shuddered awake to the sound of a bell clanging. As he forced himself up and struggled again with the bed roll, he saw that it was Old Wang who was standing near the remains of the fire and loudly striking a bell with a small steel hammer.

  Several of the men around Wu Hao groaned, and he understood the impulse, but he mastered himself and tried to rise swiftly to his feet. After a moment more, realizing that it was allowed, he did stretch a bit and wipe at his eyes.

  A mist hung around the campsite, which made it impossible to see where they were except vague, foreboding outlines that had to have been trees, or so he hoped. Occasionally something moved, dark shapes passing through in the fog, which Wu Hao figured were probably men from their own expedition.

  "Up!" Old Wang cried. "Up! Get ready to go!"

  He looked a little surprised to see Wu Hao already on his feet, but said nothing. Not knowing what else to do, Wu Hao continued just standing there until Old Qin turned over with a muffled snort and began the long, cumbersome process of waking up.

  Breakfast was little more than some cold oats, but compared to what Wu Hao was used to as a deathsworn, it was fine. Even compared to the meals Brothers got, this was still fine. Little else could be said it about it, though.

  They set off a little later, trudging through the mist. Occasionally a snore broke through the relative quiet as if to remind them Liu Zhiyi, in the carriage in their middle, was still there. That he still lived, breathed, and slept.

  That would change tonight. With that thought in mind, Wu Hao moved his attention to what he'd gotten for dying: an Earth-tier saber art called the Five Sabers Art, of which the first move was a simple chop.

  Wu Hao knew that an earth-tier art was probably already impressive for a random bandit to have, but to him it wasn't worth much. He could maybe deduce something from a Sky-tier art and he could try his hand at a Heaven-tier art, but he didn't even have a saber on him. The only way he could get one was maybe trying to snatch one from the bandits, but if he could do that he was better off just using the Rending Dagger Art he was familiar with.

  Was that arrogant of him? It probably was, but that didn't make it feel less true.

  As they trudged onwards through the misty forest, the sun gradually began to burn its way through the fog to reach them. Sunlight first reared its head about an hour in, made itself clearly felt from the second hour onwards, and was finally almost too much by the time that they were normally about to stop for the midday break.

  Liu Zhiyi came out of the carriage at one point, opening the window and leaning out, having a quiet whispered discussion with Old Wang. When that was done, he heaved his bulk around and risked a glance through the porters, all marching alongside him.

  "There's a town not far away," Liu Zhiyi announced. "We'll stop there. Old Wang and I will grab some supplies. You stay here and guard the cargo."

  As promised, they stopped on the small hill that overlooked the town. Wu Hao wasn't the only one glad to be free of the endless rows of trees that had surrounded them the entire day. Old Wang directed them all to take a bread roll, before he departed again to go into the little town.

  Wu Hao had been thinking something again, though. He could still just leave. Nothing other than some subconscious reaction was stopping him. It wasn't fear of the unknown or the world outside what he knew, otherwise he'd never have returned all the way here. He could run into the wilderness or build a life for himself in the town.

  It was a shame that he wasn't really supposed to head into the village, Wu Hao thought. It'd have been easy to make up a rumour about bandits. That way the porters would be on their guards a little more.

  He still could, but it'd just take a little more effort.

  A few minutes maybe after they began walking, one of the men caught up to Old Qin and they began speaking in low tones. Not necessarily the low tones of disquiet, but the tone of someone not wanting to be overheard.

  Wu Hao listened in, though he couldn't overhear much. Another way in which he was missing qi improving his senses, he supposed. His ears still felt like they were full of cotton, his feet like they were made out of lead. Soon, he promised himself, and broke out of his thoughts.

  "They say never to trust a skinny merchant," Old Qin said, and huffed with a quiet laugh. "Then our Golden Lotus Company must be the most trustworthy merchant company, no?"

  The man next to him whose name Wu Hao couldn't recall smiled too and said something he didn't quite make out.

  "Right," Wu Hao said, deciding to grab a chance at something else he'd been thinking about. "I'll bet that he was pretty disappointed at that, huh?"

  Old Qin gave him a puzzled smile, though the man next to him laughed.

  "Really?" Old Qin asked. "Disappointed about what, hmm?"

  Wu Hao froze, missing a few steps, and cursed internally while he tried to keep a smile on his face. He'd spent so much time fixating on not showing any emotion at all that it should've been easy to simply do the opposite and show emotion, but reality proved disappointing.

  "You know," he tried to say, but Old Qin swatted at his head and he was forced to duck.

  "You little shit," Old Qin said, though he didn't seem actually angry. He laughed. "Trying to listen in on your elders' private conversations, huh? Go on, get!"

  Damnit. Next time, maybe. Though he was trying to make sure there wouldn't be a next time.

  He didn't actually leave, though. Instead, trying to supress the blush on his cheeks through simply pretending he hadn't messed up, he spoke again.

  "What are we transporting, anyway?"

  Old Qin and the other man exchanged amused glances, but Old Qin decided to indulge Wu Hao anyway.

  "Orders for the Jin clan," he said. "Some of it's the usual stuff. Clothes, materials, wine, a few books."

  "Only some of it?" Wu Hao prodded.

  "Caught that, did you?" Old Qin said. "Fact of the matter is, don't tell this to anyone, but..."

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He made a show of looking around, exaggerating the motion, and the man next to him coughed another laugh before his attention was taken by someone else in the expedition and he fell back.

  Wu Hao felt a little flash of annoyance run through him at Old Qin treating him like a child. He'd killed before, and besides he was physically twelve or so, not five. Mentally he was seventeen or something like it. He was basically an adult.

  "What?" Wu Hao asked, when it was clear that Old Qin was waiting for him to ask more details.

  "We're not just transporting stuff for the Jin clan's servants or their food," Old Qin said, and thumbed the side of his nose. "We're actually bringing them a few rarer items. Three-Seed Peaches, as a matter of fact."

  Wu Hao's brow furrowed.

  "Three seeds? What does that mean?"

  Old Qin shushed Wu Hao. "Not so loud," he said, and continued: "Don't want those bandits to overhear you, do you?"

  Wu Hao rolled his eyes, and Old Qin chuckled.

  "Two seeds are a good omen, when it comes to peaches," Old Qin said. "Three seeds are even better, obviously. There's apparently four-seed peaches out there, but that's not the sort of thing commoners like you and me will ever get to see. The point is, though, that Three-Seed Peaches are set apart from regular peaches because they've got qi in them naturally."

  "Qi?" Wu Hao said. "So they're like the Mountain's Breath Mushroom?"

  "The what now?" Old Qin asked.

  "The Mountain's Breath," Wu Hao said. "A mushroom."

  Old Qin seemed pretty clueless, so Wu Hao wound up just muttering, "Forget it."

  Still, though, that was interesting to know. Three-Seed Peaches, huh?

  "Are they rare?"

  "Suppose so," Old Qin said, rubbing at his stubble. "We've transported them before, to be honest. We're carrying a few of those, as well as some wine made with Moon-Blossom Osmanthus - that's sort of the same thing as the Three-Seed Peaches but for osmanthus."

  Old Qin grinned. "That's supposed to be fantastic wine, mind you."

  "So how much does it all cost?" Wu Hao asked. He didn't really care, but it was an easy way to start getting to the reason why he'd started this conversation in the first place.

  "How am I supposed to know?" Old Qin grumbled. "More than you or I earn in five years, at least."

  "That much?"

  "That much. These sorts of things don't just grow on any tree, you know."

  "Isn't that dangerous?" Wu Hao asked, finally managing to push Old Qin to where he'd wanted him to go.

  Old Qin shrugged at first, but when his shoulders fell again he seemed a little pensive. "We haven't had any reports of bandits in the area recently. What's there to worry about?"

  Wu Hao tried not to grumble. Reports? He'd literally lived the future. Compared to that, what were reports?

  "Don't worry," Old Qin said. "It'd have to be a pretty confident bandit group to tackle us."

  He reached out a hand to muss up Wu Hao's hair, but Wu Hao dodged it easily.

  "Just in case, though," Wu Hao said, then hesitated. Was he actually in a position to tell anyone anything?

  Old Qin grumbled something under his breath, then rolled his eyes.

  "It's supposed to be the old men who worry too much," he said. "Young men should be too confident."

  Maybe. Young men also weren't supposed to be able to die and come back again, so Wu Hao would accept being something other than what he should be.

  Then Old Qin was drawn away by the man who'd approached him earlier, apparently to discuss something. Wu Hao couldn't make out the words, which was annoying, but he could still read the men's expressions. None of them seemed altogether worried, so Wu Hao didn't think that Old Qin was speaking about the possibility of bandits with them.

  The afternoon passed almost achingly slowly, and even when it had passed Wu Hao couldn't have said that anything had actually changed. They ate the same food again, and though they probably didn't stop at the exact same place it looked almost the same anyway.

  Wu Hao hadn't paid altogether much attention to where everyone was setting up their bed rolls and their sleeping positions, but now he knew that the bandits would probably come from slightly up the road. They'd been followed, if Wu Hao's theory was correct.

  He didn't know if Old Qin had the same thought, but he did start to try and prod a few people to change their positions.

  "And double the watch," Old Qin instructed. "Two men, just to be sure. We're almost there. Let's not fall at the final hurdles."

  "Old Qin, you're kidding," someone said.

  "I'm not," Old Qin said.

  A few of the men sighed.

  "This isn't the military," one of them joked. "You're not even the head porter, Qin Tianyi. What're you ordering us around for?"

  For a moment Old Qin seemed to bristle, and his anger seemed to make him grow in the flickering lights cast by the fire, but then he sagged back down and the spell was broken.

  "You're right," he said, and shook his head. "But still. It won't hurt, will it?"

  "That's only because you've never slept next to Chu Bidao," another man grumbled. "The way he farts you'd think something's rotten inside of him."

  Scattered laughs, at that. Wu Hao didn't laugh, though: he just watched as maybe half the men bothered to place their spears next to their bedrolls within easier reach than usual. The first man to sit up was joined by Old Qin, who sat down next to him with a muttered comment. He didn't think that there'd be someone else doing double watches, not unless Old Qin would sit up the entire night.

  Whatever was said, Old Qin's eyes flicked to Wu Hao, and he gave an apologetic little shrug, a silent comment: "Well, I tried."

  Wu Hao hoped that it'd prove to be enough. It was more than they'd had last time.

  Just to make sure, he pushed the knife that he'd stolen from Old Wang earlier deeper into his clothes to hide it. The steel still sort of itched against his skin, but he was getting used to the feeling now, was starting to actually take an odd sort of comfort in it.

  And, like the men on watch, as the other porters settled in to sleep, Wu Hao instead began to wait.