The map generated by Xiao Ling connecting to the detector was not particularly complete.
If he could walk in a straight line, Jiang Zhaoye would be able to arrive in about an hour, but amidst the city's labyrinthine alleys, he could only grope his way forward, searching east and west.
Having entered through that low, dilapidated gap in the wall, this area was clearly not a wealthy district.
As Jiang Zhaoye looked for the way, he glanced left and right; there were no new houses around, only old dwellings covered in wind-eroded cracks.
All along the way, the buildings were low and messy, mostly built with rammed yellow earth and gravel for walls, thatched roofs, and deadwood fencing around the courtyards. One house's eaves jutted out while another's wall tilted drunkenly, crowding together haphazardly without any orderly layout.
Occasionally, he could see a few extremely destitute households where even the bases of the walls had flaked away, exposing the adobe bricks mixed with chopped straw inside.
Checking the map on his watch, Jiang Zhaoye briskly turned into an alley. After walking for half a ke, he found the path ahead so narrow that it only allowed a single person to pass sideways.
Frowning, he studied the map for a while before turning sideways and squeezing inside anyway.
After walking cautiously for a while, he hadn't expected his cloak hood to obscure his vision, nearly brushing his face against coarse cloth clothes hung overhead to dry.
Occasionally, a woman carrying a basin would emerge from a doorway, but seeing his pitch-black attire covering him head to toe, her eyes turned vigilant and terrified. Without even bothering to dump the water, she turned back inside and slammed the door shut with a clatter. In the quiet alley, the creak of the door bolt sliding into place inside was exceptionally clear.
"..."
Jiang Zhaoye was completely speechless. Did he really look that scary?
He then looked down to inspect himself: a black cloak, a black mask, black clothes, leather gloves, black boots, and a sword slung across his back.
Yeah, it was pretty scary...
As he continued forward, Jiang Zhaoye silently took off his cloak and gloves, storing them inside his spatial button. He replaced his gloves with invisible film gloves that isolated bacteria and guarded against poison, though outsiders couldn't see a thing, seeing only his normally bare hands.
He didn't remove the mask, however. His appearance... especially his eyes, were still far too eye-catching.
The locals' eyes were mostly dark shades like gray, black, or brown; at least so far, Jiang Zhaoye hadn't seen anyone with blue or green eyes. His teacher had mentioned in class that cities and towns under systems similar to feudal dynasties were mostly conservative and xenophobic in custom. While among them, it was best not to reveal one's differences easily.
Then, he pulled out a prepared ancient-style wig and put it on his head.
It was the cheapest classic ancient-style young hero model from the wig shop—sleek, pitch-black hair, half draping loose and half gathered into a ponytail by an exquisitely simple silver crown, with two strands of dragon-whisker bangs framing his forehead.
Paired with his neatly tailored black cotton-linen martial outfit with a cinched waist and bound sleeves, hugging his sword against his chest, he truly had the vibe of a young hero of the jianghu.
Having changed his gear, Jiang Zhaoye moved without pause, weaving through streets and alleys. After taking many twists and turns, the houses along the way visibly became much neater and prettier—changing from earth huts to stone structures, and from thatched roofs to blue tiles. The streets and alleys grew spacious and orderly as well, and even the ground beneath his feet became smoother.
Along the way, it was inevitable that he bumped into local residents, but the moment those people saw the pitch-black mask on his face and the longsword on his person, they all showed expressions of trembling terror, hastily giving him a wide berth.
They didn't even dare meet his eyes, every single one hunching their shoulders and pulling back, quiet as cicadas in winter.
It was comparable to encountering a tyrant walking the streets.
Jiang Zhaoye, who had originally planned to randomly grab someone to ask about local conditions, sighed in his heart.
The mask was still too conspicuous; he had to think of a solution... Walking further forward, the sounds of human activity grew denser. He followed the noise out of the alley, looked up, and his view opened up completely.
A long, bustling street clamorous with voices stretched across his vision.
This scene was far wider and grander than the streets and alleys he had walked through earlier. Jiang Zhaoye stepped forward onto a very smooth road paved with bluestone, with drainage ditches lining the sides of the street.
The houses and shops on both sides of the street stood closely packed and neat, their eaves meeting. The street was filled with dense shops and stalls hanging all kinds of shop signs—selling cloth, grain, medicine... display of fine goods, organized in picturesque disorder.
People came and went on the street in an endless stream, pushing carts, carrying shoulder poles, or holding children, yet each kept to their own lane without feeling crowded or cramped.
Although it could not be called exceedingly prosperous, compared to the lifeless sight outside the city, it possessed far more of the lively breath of the mortal world.
As Jiang Zhaoye stood by the street, white steam rose from a stall selling steamed cakes, drifting over along with the fragrant aroma of oil, tempting his stomach into growling betrayingly. He looked down at the longsword in his arms, thought for a moment, tucked it behind his waist, straightened his clothes, and stepped forward to merge into the crowd.
With that pitch-black iron mask still on his face in this crowded place, he frequently drew backward glances, clearly sticking out like a sore thumb. Jiang Zhaoye looked left and right uncomfortably, then walked straight over to a stall selling straw hats.
Sweeping his gaze around, Jiang Zhaoye casually picked up a veiled straw hat, set down a silver bean, and without waiting for the vendor to speak, put on the straw hat, pressed down its brim, and turned to leave.
The vendor froze for a moment, picked up the silver bean to bite it with his teeth, then looked at his retreating back with joy flooding his face, having no intention whatsoever of chasing after him.
Wearing the straw hat, Jiang Zhaoye walked down the street, the veil hanging down to conceal his entire face.
As he walked, he observed his surroundings while speaking in a low voice into his earpiece, "Xiao Ling, connect to the locator and scan the surrounding area."
"Understood. Xiao Ling is connecting for you... Connection successful."
"Remotely scanning the surrounding area... Detailed map generated."
"The densely populated areas within the city are mainly concentrated in three locations: the Southern Residential Street where you are currently located, the Eastern Market, and the Western Market Square."
"The target signal is located in the east direction of the city, approximately 3.2 kilometers from your current location. The target is currently stationary, with normal vital signs."
Jiang Zhaoye nodded. Rather than rushing to find the child, he first sought out an inconspicuous corner and pulled out several fingernail-sized "stone chips" wrapped around metal from his bosom.
Those were information receivers he had prepared before setting off, disguised on the outside to ensure they would never be conspicuous in any environment.
Taking advantage of when no one was looking, he tossed the receivers one by one into wall bases at street corners, onto wooden pillars of stalls, and into stone crevices at alley entrances.
"Xiao Ling, the receivers are deployed. Begin collecting information."
"Understood. Collection of ambient sound information has begun, and language analysis and corpus accumulation are underway..."
Jiang Zhaoye pressed down the brim of his hat and merged into the crowd. "Roughly how long will it take to complete?"
"It is estimated that the construction of the basic language pack can be completed in two hours."
He nodded and walked slowly forward along the main street. Beside him, a bun stall vendor was loudly hawking slang he couldn't understand: "Meat buns! Hot meat buns—three qian each!"
The aroma of white flour drifted from the steaming bamboo steamers, making Jiang Zhaoye—who had eaten only half a piece of compressed biscuit all the way here—salivate.
Regrettably, with the language barrier, he wouldn't even be able to ask the price properly. Jiang Zhaoye glanced at the steaming steamers in frustration, ultimately not daring to display his clumsy attempt at the local dialect in broad daylight.
Listlessly, he quickened his pace. As he passed an herb shop, his nose suddenly caught a heavy, rustic scent of herbal medicine, and Jiang Zhaoye looked up with some curiosity.
Rate on N.U.
