The man's eyes were calm.
That was the first thing Lin Yuan noticed.
They were not sharp with killing intent, nor soft with kindness. They were steady, like deep water that hid its depth. When those eyes landed on Lin Yuan, it felt as if he was being weighed, measured, and quietly judged.
Lin Yuan's heartbeat quickened.
It's really him…
In the future chapters of the novel, this man would be known across entire regions. A figure who stood at the edge of legends. Someone whose name alone could make sect elders frown and enemies hesitate.
But right now, he was just a traveler on a dusty road, wearing simple clothes and carrying a plain sword at his waist.
Still, Lin Yuan knew better than to underestimate him.
The tall man raised one hand slightly, stopping the others behind him from drawing their weapons.
"Easy," he said. His voice was low and even. "He's injured."
The tension in the group eased, but only a little.
One of the travelers, a middle-aged woman with a wary expression, frowned. "Injured people can still be dangerous. Especially in this region."
She was not wrong.
The borderlands were cruel. People here learned early that pity could kill you.
Lin Yuan swallowed and forced himself to stay calm. Panic would only make him look suspicious.
"I was separated from my group," he said truthfully. "I was attacked by wolves last night."
"Wolves?" someone muttered.
The tall man stepped closer, stopping a few paces away. He glanced at Lin Yuan's shoulder, then at his torn clothes and exhausted posture.
"You survived Ironfang Wolves alone?" the man asked.
Lin Yuan shook his head quickly. "No. I hid. I was lucky."
Luck.
That word seemed to interest the man.
"Hm."
He studied Lin Yuan for another moment, then nodded slightly.
"Sit," he said, pointing to a rock near the road. "You look like you'll fall over if you keep standing."
Relief washed over Lin Yuan, but he did not show it. He moved slowly and sat down, careful not to make sudden movements.
The group resumed their rest, though their attention did not fully leave him.
Someone handed him a waterskin.
"Drink," the woman said. "Slowly."
"Thank you," Lin Yuan replied, taking small sips.
As the water eased his dry throat, his thoughts raced.
This is dangerous.
Meeting this man this early was not supposed to happen. In the novel, their paths only crossed much later, under very different circumstances.
This was another sign.
The future was shifting.
The tall man finally spoke again. "What's your name?"
"Lin Yuan."
The name meant nothing to the group.
To Lin Yuan himself, it meant everything.
"And where were you headed?" the man asked.
"The border town," Lin Yuan answered. "I was hoping to find help there."
The man nodded. "We're heading in the same direction."
Lin Yuan's heart skipped.
That was good news.
And very bad news.
Traveling with them meant safety, but it also meant prolonged contact. The more time he spent near this man, the higher the chance he would say or do something wrong.
In the future, this person was known for many things. Mercy was not one of them.
The woman crouched down and examined Lin Yuan's wound. "This needs cleaning. If it festers, you're dead."
"I know," Lin Yuan said quietly.
She glanced at him, then pulled out a small pouch. "Hold still."
The pain made him grit his teeth, but he did not cry out. He focused on breathing, on staying aware.
As she worked, the tall man watched silently.
"Why were you with mercenaries?" he asked suddenly.
Lin Yuan's mind reacted instantly.
He could not reveal too much. But lying outright was risky.
"I worked as a porter," he said. "I carry supplies. I don't fight."
That much matched Lin Yuan's background.
The man accepted the answer without comment.
After the wound was cleaned and wrapped, Lin Yuan felt a little better. Still weak, but no longer on the edge of collapse.
"We'll take you with us," the man said at last. "Until the town."
Lin Yuan bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."
The group packed up and began moving.
Lin Yuan walked near the back, careful to keep his pace steady. The road was rough, but easier than moving through open land.
As they traveled, he listened.
The travelers spoke quietly among themselves. They were not merchants, not exactly. Some carried tools, others weapons. A mixed group, likely heading to the town for different reasons.
The tall man walked at the front.
Occasionally, Lin Yuan felt his gaze flick back toward him.
Each time, his shoulders tensed.
He's observing me.
Lin Yuan forced himself to act natural. He asked no questions. He did not stare. He conserved his strength.
After some time, the woman who treated him earlier slowed her pace to walk beside him.
"You're quiet," she said.
"I don't have much energy," Lin Yuan replied.
She snorted softly. "Fair."
There was a pause.
"You're lucky," she said after a while. "If we hadn't passed by, you wouldn't have made it."
"I know," Lin Yuan said honestly.
She glanced at him. "Most people who say that don't really mean it."
Lin Yuan said nothing.
By midday, the outline of the border town appeared in the distance. Wooden walls. Watchtowers. Smoke rising from chimneys.
Safety.
Almost.
As they approached the gate, guards stepped forward, alert but not hostile. They recognized the group and waved them through after a brief exchange.
The moment Lin Yuan passed through the gate, he felt a strange mix of relief and unease.
This town existed in the novel.
But now, he was inside it.
Inside the story.
The group split up soon after entering. Some headed toward the market. Others toward inns or workshops.
The tall man stopped.
"You," he said, looking at Lin Yuan.
Lin Yuan straightened.
"You need a place to rest," the man continued. "And medicine."
Lin Yuan nodded. "Yes."
"There's a healer near the east side," the man said. "Mention my name."
Lin Yuan hesitated.
"…Your name?"
For the first time, the man smiled faintly.
"Han Yue."
The name echoed in Lin Yuan's mind like thunder.
Han Yue.
One of the most dangerous cultivators of the future.
A man who would one day stand above countless others.
And now, Lin Yuan knew his name before he should.
"I'll remember," Lin Yuan said carefully.
Han Yue studied him for a brief moment longer, then turned away.
"Take care," he said.
And with that, he left.
Lin Yuan stood there, heart pounding.
I just met him.
Not as a reader.
But as a person.
That alone was enough to change countless futures.
He went to the healer as instructed. The treatment was better than before, and after resting for a while, his strength slowly returned.
As evening fell, Lin Yuan sat alone in a small rented room, staring at the ceiling.
Too many things had gone wrong.
Or right.
He had survived death.
Found an unknown item.
Met a future powerhouse.
Nothing about this matched the original path.
He reached into his pouch and touched the metal box.
The ring was still there.
Silent.
Waiting.
Lin Yuan closed his eyes.
"I need to be more careful," he whispered. "Much more careful."
Because now, he was certain of one thing.
This world had already noticed him.
And it would not stop watching.
Far away, in a place Lin Yuan could not yet imagine, a small change rippled outward—quiet, slow, and unstoppable.
The future was moving.
And it was no longer following the book.