The city announced itself before it appeared.
Noise came first. Not the clean sounds of the sect. Not bells and measured footsteps. This was layered and uneven. Vendors calling prices that shifted with the crowd. Cart wheels rattling over stone. Laughter that rose and died without permission. The air smelled of smoke and oil and too many people living too close together.
Mei Lin slowed as the road curved downhill.
Zhou Wei did not tell her to keep moving. He felt the moment stretch and let it. Cities did that to people who had lived under rules too long. They pulled at attention, demanded choices.
The walls came into view through a break in the trees. Not tall. Not proud. Functional stone patched and repatched over years. Banners hung from iron hooks above the gate, faded enough to tell the truth about how often they were replaced.
A market city.
No sect crest. No singular authority. Just trade and money and need layered on top of one another until it formed something stable enough to endure.
Mei Lin exhaled slowly. "It's loud."
"Yes," Zhou Wei said. "It hides things well."
They joined the line at the gate without speaking. Travelers pressed close, adjusting packs, counting coins, scanning guards with practiced eyes. Zhou Wei let his shoulders slump and his gaze drift. A servant who had left a sect rarely drew interest. A woman who stood straight did.
He felt the looks land on Mei Lin and slide away again. Not predatory yet. Curious. Measuring.
Good.
The gate guard waved them forward with a bored flick of his hand. Coins clinked. Names were asked and forgotten. No questions lingered long enough to bruise.
Inside, the city opened into motion.
Stalls crowded the street, canvas awnings sagging under old rain. Meat sizzled over open flame. Dried herbs hung in bundles thick enough to mask rot beneath perfume. A woman shouted at a customer for touching without asking. A man laughed too loudly and was shoved aside by someone who had learned the city's pace.
Mei Lin walked a step behind Zhou Wei, eyes moving constantly. She did not cling. She did not drift. She adjusted.
"You said cities test choice," she said quietly.
"They test appetite," Zhou Wei replied. "Choice follows."
They turned down a narrower street where the crowd thinned and the smells sharpened. The warmth inside Zhou Wei responded to the density of people, not flaring, but aligning, tuning itself to a wider range than the sect had ever allowed. Desire here was not hidden behind doctrine. It lay open and messy and transactional.
Dangerous.
They stopped at a tea stall with chipped cups and a woman who did not ask questions she would have to remember. Zhou Wei paid. Mei Lin sat with her back to the wall, hands wrapped around the cup, steam fogging her lashes.
"This place doesn't care who we were," she said.
"No," Zhou Wei agreed. "It cares what we can offer."
A ripple brushed his awareness. Focused. Female. Curious without hunger.
Zhou Wei did not look up immediately.
A woman stood two stalls away, arguing with a vendor about silk quality. Her voice was sharp, practiced. Not loud. Effective. She wore travel clothes that had seen use and carried herself like someone who did not wait for permission.
When the vendor folded, she smiled once and turned. Her eyes met Zhou Wei's.
Interest flickered.
Not sexual. Appraising.
Power recognized power.
The warmth inside Zhou Wei tightened slightly, then steadied. He broke eye contact first and finished his tea.
"Who was that," Mei Lin asked.
"Someone who buys in bulk," Zhou Wei said. "And hates being cheated."
They moved on.
The city offered work quickly to those who knew where to look. Zhou Wei found it by watching who paid to avoid inconvenience. Porters who needed an extra hand. A ledger clerk who wanted inventory counted without questions. Small tasks that left no trail and earned enough to eat.
By dusk, they had a room.
It was above a bathhouse that steamed constantly and smelled of soap and old wood. The door latched. The floor creaked. The window looked out over a narrow alley where rainwater ran in a thin, black ribbon.
Mei Lin sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her palms flat against the mattress, testing.
"This isn't hiding," she said.
"No," Zhou Wei replied. "It's blending."
She nodded, then looked at him with a seriousness that had not faded since they left the sect. "What's the rule here."
"The same," Zhou Wei said. "Choice. Willingness. Consequence."
"And the city," she asked. "Does it forgive mistakes."
He shook his head. "It prices them."
Night came with lanterns and voices that did not sleep. Zhou Wei stood at the window and let his awareness stretch carefully. Desire rose and fell in waves below. Deals made. Deals regretted. Hunger sharpened into resolve and dulled into fatigue.
The warmth inside him settled into that rhythm.
This place would teach faster.
A knock sounded at the door.
Zhou Wei did not move immediately. He listened. One person. Steady breathing. No fear.
Mei Lin met his eyes. He nodded once.
When Zhou Wei opened the door, the woman from the silk stall stood there, expression composed.
"I don't usually knock," she said. "But you looked like someone who appreciates introductions."
Zhou Wei waited.
"My name is Chen Yue," she continued. "I trade in things people want and pretend they don't. Information. Access. Favors."
Her gaze slid briefly to Mei Lin and back. Measuring. Respectful.
"You arrived this morning without a past the city recognizes," Chen Yue said. "That makes you either dangerous or useful."
Zhou Wei smiled faintly. "Those aren't opposites."
Chen Yue's mouth curved in approval. "No. They're not."
She stepped back from the threshold. "If you want work that pays better than carrying boxes, ask for me tomorrow at the east market."
"And if we don't," Mei Lin asked.
Chen Yue shrugged. "Then we all keep our secrets."
She turned and vanished down the alley without another word.
The door closed softly.
Mei Lin let out a breath she had been holding. "You didn't invite her in."
"No," Zhou Wei said. "First meetings shouldn't rush."
He felt the city settle around them, curious and indifferent in equal measure.
"This is it," Mei Lin said. Not a question.
Zhou Wei nodded. "This is where people choose loudly."
Outside, laughter broke into an argument and then into a deal. Lanterns swayed. The city pressed close, patient and hungry.
Zhou Wei sat on the edge of the bed and rested his forearms on his knees.
Tomorrow, they would step into a world that paid well for desire and punished hesitation.
Tonight, they listened.
And the city listened back.