The day ended with another windfall.
Between the chess hustle in the park and the "Han Solo Special" shift at Starbucks, Wei had accumulated another eight hundred and twenty-five dollars.
He felt heavy with coin, but light in spirit.
His legs, however, were restless.
The "Stamina Potion" he brewed was potent, and while he had dispensed most of it to customers, he had absorbed enough ambient Qi from the steam to feel like a coiled spring.
"Okay," Sarah said, counting her cut (15%). "Great day. Let's hit the subway. I'm starving."
Wei shook his head.
"I do not wish to ride the iron serpent," Wei declared. "It smells of despair and friction."
"It's called the N Train, and yes, it sucks. But it's that or valid cab fare, which is thirty bucks."
Wei held up a hand.
"I require a map. Show me on your portable library where we are and where the Cave is."
Sarah sighed and pulled out her phone. She opened Google Maps.
"We are here," she pointed to a blue dot in Midtown. "The Cave is here," she pointed to a red pin in Queens.
Wei studied the image. He zoomed in. He memorized the grid.
Eight miles.
A trivial distance. A morning warm-up for an Outer Disciple.
"I see," Wei nodded. "I will meet you there."
"Wait, what? You're going to walk? That's like... three hours."
"I will not walk," Wei corrected. "I will traverse."
He handed Sarah his bag of cash (he trusted her with the treasury more than himself).
"Buy food. Something dense. Meat."
Then, Wei turned.
He didn't sprint. He didn't jog.
He simply leaned forward and vanished.
Sarah blinked. One second he was there, the next he was a blur weaving through the evening crowd of Times Square.
"Did he just... parkour a taxi?" she whispered.
***
Wei moved.
The city was a labyrinth, but Wei was a rat who knew how to find cheese.
He didn't stick to the sidewalks. The sidewalks were slow.
He used the "Flowing Water Step."
He ran along the curb. He leaped over fire hydrants. When the light turned red, he didn't stop; he simply timed his crossing to the gaps in the "Iron Beasts."
*Honk!*
"Watch it, buddy!"
Wei was already gone.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He reached the Queensboro Bridge.
Cars were gridlocked. Bicycles were slow.
Wei hopped onto the pedestrian railing. It was six inches wide. Below him, the East River churned.
He ran along the rail, balanced perfectly, his robes fluttering in the wind.
Below him, drivers stuck in traffic stared up in disbelief.
"Is that a ninja?" a truck driver asked.
"No," his passenger said. "It's a crazy person. Don't make eye contact."
Wei felt the wind. He felt the vibration of the city.
This wasn't the Sect. There were no spirit veins here. But there was energy. The kinetic energy of millions of people moving, striving, living.
He realized he could tap into it. Not for cultivation, but for momentum.
He ran faster.
***
Forty minutes later.
Sarah's Uber pulled up to the brick building in Queens.
She got out, holding two bags of Halal food (chicken over rice).
"God, traffic was a nightmare," she muttered, checking her phone. "Wei is probably still in Manhattan."
She walked to the side door.
Wei was sitting on the steps.
He wasn't sweating. He wasn't breathing hard. He looked bored.
There was a pigeon sitting on his shoulder.
"You're late," Wei noted.
"How..." Sarah stared at him. "How did you get here? Did you fly?"
"I ran," Wei said simply. "The bridge was efficient."
He stood up and sniffed the air.
"Is that chicken?"
Sarah handed him a container.
"You're a monster, Wei. A literal monster."
"I am a Disciple," Wei corrected, opening the lid. "And this... smells acceptable."
He took a bite. It was spicy. Greasy. Delicious.
"Daoist Halal," Wei proclaimed. "A master of the flame."
He looked at the dark, windowless door of his Cave.
"A good day via the Dao," Wei said. "We have conquered the Park. We have conquered the Potions. And now, we conquer dinner."
He opened the door and disappeared into the dark.
Sarah shook her head.
"I need a raise," she whispered, and followed him down.
