Chapter 52: Lead The Way
Remembering Ye Chenxue’s explicit request, Lu Feng walked up to the counter where a cheerful young baker was boxing up pastries for an elderly woman.
"Welcome to Jade Frost! What can I get for you today, young master?" the baker asked cheerfully, wiping his flour-dusted hands on a clean linen apron.
"I need a large box of your finest honey dumplings," Lu Feng instructed smoothly. "And alongside that, pack an assortment of your most delicate, sweet flower-petal pastries—the ones infused with spring jasmine and peach nectar."
The baker’s eyes lit up. "Ah, excellent taste! The honey dumplings are fresh out of the steamer, and the jasmine pastries were baked not an hour ago. They’ll practically melt on the tongue. Are these gifts for someone special?"
"Let’s just say they’ve earned a treat," Lu Feng replied dryly, leaning against the polished wooden counter.
The baker chuckled, quickly assembling the order with practiced speed. He selected the plumpest, most glistening honey dumplings, placing them delicately inside an embossed wooden box lined with greaseproof silk. Alongside them, he arranged a colorful array of flower-petal pastries, securing the lids with a crisp, decorative paper seal before sliding the boxes across the counter.
Lu Feng paid the man with two silver pieces, scooped up the warm confectionery boxes, and added them to his growing collection under his arm.
With all of his errands successfully run, he turned his steps away from the bustling commercial avenues and began making his way back toward the quiet residential outskirts where their temporary guest villa awaited.
The sun was finally beginning its slow, dramatic descent behind the jagged peaks surrounding Crimson Vale City, casting long, bruised shadows across the winding streets. The amber glow of evening lanterns began to flicker to life one by one, signaling the end of the day’s frantic commerce.
Lu Feng walked at a steady, unhurried pace, his arms cradling the carefully wrapped silk packages of high-end utility robes and the warm, sweet boxes of freshly baked honey dumplings and jasmine pastries. A quiet sense of satisfaction settled comfortably in his chest; he had successfully acquired top-tier provisions for his companions, navigating the bustling commerce of the upper district with absolute ease.
Yet, as he rounded a corner and crossed into a quieter, narrower lane bordered by high stone garden walls, a subtle shift in the surrounding air broke his concentration.
It wasn’t a sudden surge of killing intent or the violent crackle of raw qi. It was something far more mundane, yet immediately noticeable to anyone hyper-aware of their surroundings: the rhythmic, muffled scuff of leather soles tracking his movements from a distance of precisely twenty paces, perfectly matching every change in his speed.
Lu Feng didn’t stop walking. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead on the lantern-lit cobblestones, a dry, unimpressed smirk touching the corners of his lips.
’Amateurs,’ he thought, shaking his head slightly. ’I step out of the high-security commercial zone for a single afternoon to buy pastries, and I already attract the local trash thinking an unescorted young master is an easy mark.’
Deciding to test their patience—and perhaps lead them away from the immediate vicinity of the guest villa—he maintained his casual stride. He deliberately took a left turn down a winding, descending street, and then another sharp right into a narrower alleyway where the warm glow of the main street lanterns began to fade into deep twilight.
He hadn’t even taken ten steps down the narrow passage before the heavy, oppressive aura of boxed-in entrapment closed around him.
From the shadows ahead, a bulky figure wrapped in a heavy, grease-stained dark cloak stepped out from behind a wooden rain-barrel, blocking his path entirely. At the exact same second, the scraping sound of hurried footsteps echoed from behind him, cutting off his retreat.
A second hooded figure emerged from the mouth of the alley, sliding a heavy wooden crate across the cobblestones to seal the exit.
Lu Feng stopped in his tracks. He glanced slowly to his left, then to his right, noting the high, unclimbable brick walls towering over both sides of the narrow passage. They had funneled him into a dead-end service alley—a classic, textbook ambush spot chosen by low-level cutthroats who fancied themselves criminal masterminds.
He let out a long, slow sigh, his shoulders dropping in feigned disappointment. He shook his head slowly, looking between the two hooded thugs with a look of profound pity.
"I’m going to give you both one final chance to turn around and walk away," Lu Feng warned, his voice deadpan and entirely devoid of fear. "You are standing on the precipice of a catastrophic mistake, and trust me, you won’t like the landing."
The thug blocking the front path—a burly, scarred brute with a jagged metal ring piercing his lower lip—let out a harsh, barking laugh that echoed unpleasantly off the damp brick walls.
"Listen to this arrogant little peacock!" the brute mocked, taking a heavy step forward.
With a swift, practiced flick of his wrist, the man drew a jagged, rune-etched iron dagger from beneath his cloak. The blade caught the faint moonlight, radiating a dull, greasy sheen. He pointed the tip directly at Lu Feng’s throat, closing the distance until the sharp steel was mere inches away.
"Keep your fancy clothes, your pretty packages, and your little warnings, rich boy," the thug snarled, his eyes narrowing greedily as he gestured with the dagger toward the pitch-black recesses deeper in the alley. "Move. Walk your pretty little boots right over to that dark corner near the drainage pipe, or I’ll carve a smile into that smug face right here and now."
Lu Feng raised an eyebrow, deciding to humor them a little longer. He needed to ensure they were far enough away from prying eyes before he dismantled them.
"Alright, alright, there’s no need to ruin the pastries," Lu Feng murmured smoothly, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender while keeping his grip secure on the precious boxes of honey dumplings. "Lead the way. Just don’t damage the wrapping."
The two thugs exchanged smug, triumphant grins, entirely convinced their intimidation tactics had broken him. The rear assailant stepped up close behind him, prodding him roughly between the shoulder blades with the wooden hilt of a short sword.
"Keep moving, keep your mouth shut, and hand over the money pouch the second we say the word," the second thug hissed in his ear.