CHAPTER 153: CH-153: MOVE

The road beyond the orchard bent south, curling through low hills that carried the scent of damp stone and wild thyme.

By mid-morning, the sun had burned away the last of the dawn mist, leaving the air sharp and clean.

Tian Shen kept his pace steady, not forcing the Scouts to march hard, but not letting them linger either.

He walked at the head of the column, spear resting across his shoulders, eyes sweeping the horizon the way a man checks a game board before making his next move.

He’d learned long ago that danger didn’t always announce itself with noise — sometimes it was in the silence that stretched just a little too long.

Feng Yin trailed a half-step behind, hands folded loosely at her back, her gaze often drawn to the hills on their left.

Ji Luan and Little Mei followed in their own quiet, the former scanning for tracks, the latter occasionally glancing skyward where Drowsy circled at a comfortable height.

The path dropped into a narrow valley by midday, the hills tightening until they formed sheer ridges on either side.

A river cut through the rock here — not the broad silver threads of the Central Plains, but a deep, narrow channel that ran fast and red-brown with silt.

Redwater.

Tian Shen remembered the name from old supply maps. The locals claimed the color came from the iron-rich stone upstream, though some of the older stories whispered of battles fought here long before the sects had risen, where the river had run thick with blood for days.

Whatever the truth, the place had a presence. The ridges leaned over them like great shoulders, and the rush of the water drowned out smaller sounds.

"This is choke-point terrain," Ji Luan said quietly as they reached the narrowest bend.

"I know," Tian Shen replied. "Keep your eyes moving."

They crossed at a low, sloped section where stones had been stacked into a crude ford. The water licked at their boots, icy enough to bite through leather. Feng Yin was the last to cross, and when she stepped onto the far bank, Tian Shen gave a short nod and set them moving again.

But he didn’t stop scanning the ridges.

...

They reached Redwater’s only settlement by late afternoon. Calling it a village was generous — a scattering of houses along the riverbank, roofs of warped tile, smoke rising from only two chimneys.

A lone fisherman watched them from the dock, his net half-mended in his lap. When Tian Shen approached, the man looked up with pale eyes clouded from too many years under the sun.

"You’re not from here," the fisherman said.

"No," Tian Shen replied. "We’re passing through. Any trouble on the road ahead?"

The man’s fingers kept working the net, but slower now. "Not trouble you can see until it’s too late."

Tian Shen held the man’s gaze. "Meaning?"

"There’s been... vanishings," the fisherman said after a pause. "Two from here, others from upriver. No bodies, no signs of a fight. Just gone."

Feng Yin stepped up beside Tian Shen. "When did it start?"

"Three weeks ago," the man said. "No pattern. Young, old, strong, weak — doesn’t matter."

Tian Shen thanked him, but his mind was already pulling threads together. The orchard had been quiet. Too quiet. Now, here, the first whisper of something moving in the dark.

...

They found lodging in what passed for an inn — a low-beamed structure that smelled faintly of fish oil and damp wood. The innkeeper, a stout woman with quick hands, didn’t ask many questions. She gave them two rooms and pointed them toward the common room if they wanted food.

Over a simple dinner of river trout and greens, Tian Shen laid the facts out for the Scouts.

"Disappearances in small settlements rarely stay small," he said. "If it’s bandits, they’ll move until someone stops them. If it’s something else..." He let the sentence trail off, the unspoken possibilities heavier than words.

Ji Luan’s mouth tightened. "The fisherman’s right. No tracks, no struggle — that doesn’t fit with ordinary raiders."

"Then we find out what it does fit with," Tian Shen said. "Tomorrow, Ji Luan and I will go upstream. Feng Yin, you and Little Mei take the lower banks. Drowsy can sweep both ways."

Feng Yin nodded, but her eyes searched his face. "You’re expecting this to connect to the orchard, aren’t you?"

"Not expecting," Tian Shen said quietly. "But I’m not ruling it out."

...

The inn was silent by nightfall. Outside, the river whispered against its banks, and the wind carried the scent of coming rain. Tian Shen lay on his side, staring at the shadowed wall, every muscle resting but his mind working in quiet circles.

It wasn’t just the disappearances. It was the timing. The orchard had been untouched for months, and now, days after they’d decided to leave, trouble was here waiting in their path. Coincidence existed, but in his experience, it rarely lasted this long before revealing itself as something else.

Somewhere in the dark, he thought of the barefoot figure by the river — though he had never seen him, the thought came unbidden, like a scent on the wind you couldn’t name but knew you’d smelled before.

...

Morning came with low clouds and the smell of rain on stone. Tian Shen and Ji Luan took the northern trail first, climbing the narrow path that followed the river upstream. The ridges closed in further here, the water below surging between black rocks.

Half a league on, Ji Luan halted, crouching to study the mud at the river’s edge. "Tracks," he murmured.

Tian Shen joined him. The prints were faint, almost erased by the water’s splash, but they were there — human, barefoot, and spaced oddly, as if the walker had moved with long, deliberate strides.

They followed the trail until it vanished into a shelf of rock slick with moss. From there, the river narrowed to a chute, frothing white as it plunged between the stones.

Tian Shen stood a long moment, studying the churn. Then he looked up at the ridgeline. The mist clung low here, hiding much of the slope.

"We’ll mark this and double back," he said. "No point climbing blind."

...

By midday, both scouting teams were back at the village. Feng Yin’s report was shorter. "Nothing on the lower banks except old fire pits. No fresh sign."

Tian Shen nodded. "We’ll wait one night more. If nothing stirs, we move on."

But the river had other plans.

That night, just before moonrise, Drowsy’s low rumble cut through the stillness. Tian Shen was already on his feet before the sound finished, spear in hand as he stepped into the cold air.

The dragon-beast hovered above the docks, eyes fixed on something in the water. The rest of the Scouts emerged behind him, weapons ready.

The surface of the river was smooth — too smooth for the current they’d seen in daylight. Then, without warning, a pale hand broke the water, grasping the edge of the dock. Another followed.

A man hauled himself up, dripping and barefoot, his eyes catching the lantern light in a way that made Tian Shen’s grip tighten on his spear.

"You shouldn’t be here," the man said, voice soft but carrying over the rush of the river. "It’s already begun."

Tian Shen didn’t lower his weapon. "What has?"

The man smiled without warmth — the same smile Tian Shen had imagined without knowing why. "The unbinding."

Before anyone could move, the man stepped backward into the water and sank without a ripple.

The river rushed on as if nothing had happened, but Tian Shen felt it — the orchard, the vanishings, the sigils he’d never seen but could almost feel beneath his boots. Threads pulling tighter.

And somewhere ahead, the knot waiting to be cut.

Tian Shen stayed on the dock long after the last ripple had faded, his eyes fixed on the black mirror of the river. Drowsy’s wings beat slowly above, the beast unwilling to leave its watch.

Feng Yin came to stand beside him, her voice low. "We could search now."

He shook his head. "Too dangerous in this light. And if he wanted to disappear, he chose the right river to do it in."

Ji Luan muttered from behind them, "People don’t just sink like that. Not unless something pulls them down."

Tian Shen said nothing, but the thought had already taken root. The man’s calm... his choice of words... The unbinding.

They returned to the inn in silence, though Tian Shen’s mind walked far ahead of his body. Whatever this was, it wasn’t random. It was moving along the river, from orchard to here — and perhaps beyond.

When he finally lay down, he didn’t close his eyes. Somewhere out there, a force was unraveling something meant to stay bound. And if his instincts were right, they were running out of time to stop it.

By morning, they would move upstream again—this time, prepared for whatever chose to rise from the water.