Chapter 3033: Another Young Master The vendor laughed. "Ah, worth a try. How about eight?" Meng Bai took out five and set them down. "This or nothing." The vendor eyed the stones, then the bird, then Meng Bai, and finally shrugged. "Deal." Ashy swooped down and plucked the gem from the table, cradling it in her wings like a newborn chick. "She’s going to want a shelf for that later," Meng Bai murmured, amused. "Or a throne," the vendor chuckled. As they turned to browse further, Meng Bai paused as his senses tingled slightly. Just for a moment, the wind shifted unnaturally—an imperceptible flicker in the flow of ash and heat. He turned toward the alley leading to the small inn. Still nothing visible. But the feeling didn’t leave him. He returned to Daoist Chu, who was now standing by the tavern entrance, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Did you feel it?" Meng Bai asked quietly. Daoist Chu nodded. "Just barely. Someone touched the boundary of the alley—too faint to trace. But it wasn’t the drunk. The Tracker’s back." They both turned to face the alley’s mouth. "Do we approach now?" Meng Bai asked. "Not yet," Daoist Chu said. "We wait. He may not stay long. If we press him now, we risk pushing him away." Ashy curled her wings tighter around the quartz and settled back on Meng Bai’s shoulder, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously triumphant. The pieces were beginning to move. While Meng Bai watched the market, the bustling noise of vendors calling out their goods and bartering customers created a comforting cacophony. Yet, behind that liveliness was a focused vigilance in his eyes—trained subtly on the alley’s direction and any trace of the elusive Hooded Tracker. Daoist Chu, having observed the Tracker’s brief and subtle return earlier, had come to a quiet conclusion. "They were just probing us," he said, standing beside Meng Bai before they split up. "A flicker of presence—there and gone. They sensed something, maybe even me. But they turned away. Still..." He narrowed his eyes toward the shadowed alley. "They didn’t go far." Meng Bai nodded. "So... now what?" "We split up," Daoist Chu replied. "Two cultivators loitering near the alley might be enough to scare even a seasoned bounty hunter. Especially one with a nose like theirs. If you’re on your own, he might not see you as a threat." Meng Bai hesitated, then asked, "And what if I do see him?" "Don’t confront him. Just watch. Track him if you can, but don’t engage unless you’re certain it’s safe. Understood?" Ashy chimed in from Meng Bai’s shoulder, "That means more shopping!" Xiao Yin and Xiao Yang hissed in excited agreement from his sleeves, clearly still disappointed that there was only one Verdant Ember Quartz between the three of them. Meng Bai sighed, then laughed. "Fine, fine. Let’s go get more shiny things before you three burn a hole in my robe." Daoist Chu gave a brief nod. "Good. I’ll stay nearby. Keep your spirit sense faint and aura suppressed." With that, they parted ways. Meng Bai returned to the market’s heart, blending easily into the crowd. He wandered from stall to stall, casually observing, feigning interest in rare trinkets while letting the three spirit beasts indulge their eccentric tastes. The twins pointed out polished crystals, Ashy insisted on a red-gold plume she wanted to wear like a crown, and all the while Meng Bai kept a subtle eye on the surroundings. Several times he glimpsed cloaked figures, but none matched the elusive signature he was trying to sense. It was frustrating, this waiting game—but Meng Bai trusted Daoist Chu’s judgment. As he was moving toward a stall selling blue-white mineral shards that crackled with latent lightning qi, someone suddenly bumped into him. "Watch where you’re going, you bumpkin," a sharp voice snapped. Meng Bai turned slightly, only to see a young man standing before him, likely his own age in appearnce but older in reality. He was wearing the kind of overly lavish robes that screamed ’insecure rich brat.’ His long hair was tied in a gaudy jade clip, and he had a haughty, upturned gaze that made Meng Bai sigh internally. ’Not again.’ Meng Bai blinked, and a flicker of memory surfaced—of the last time something like this had happened. The Shanxi Capital City. That loudmouthed brat with a hound. The cheering lap dogs. The misunderstanding that spiraled into ridiculous chaos... and the nickname he’d earned. The Ghost Boy and his Bird of Doom. "I was just standing here," Meng Bai said calmly. "You’re the one who wasn’t watching where you were walking." The arrogant young man’s lip curled. "Is that how you speak to your betters?" Meng Bai turned to the vendor beside him, gesturing toward the edge of the stall. "You saw, didn’t you? He bumped into me." The hawker—an older man with a weary expression—froze. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked between Meng Bai and the richly-dressed youth, and then abruptly looked down at his hands. "I saw nothing," the hawker said, voice flat and resigned. Meng Bai’s shoulders sagged slightly. ’Of course.’ The fear was plain on the hawker’s face. "You see?" the young man said with a smirk. "No one’s on your side. Now apologize—or..." He stepped closer, puffing himself up. "Or what?" Meng Bai asked, tone still calm but with an edge of annoyance creeping in. "Are you going to shout for your lackeys to beat me up for bruising your ego?" The man’s nostrils flared. "How dare you—!" A faint hiss came from Meng Bai’s sleeve. The youth paused. Another hiss. Then a low, chittering chuckle from Ashy. "Do you really want to do this?" Meng Bai asked, eyes narrowing just a touch. The youth opened his mouth again, but froze. There was something unsettling about the way the sleeves of Meng Bai’s robes shifted slightly, and the bird on his shoulder tilted its head with an unsettling intelligence. For just a moment, the man felt something—an oppressive feeling, like being watched by something... fierce. He took an instinctive step back.