The city was visibly split into eastern and western halves. The western part was largely composed of military barracks, and even the grand estates and villas were merely residences for high-ranking officers.

The entire West District occupied three-quarters of the city’s expanse.

Although the East District accounted for only one-third the size of the West, in terms of liveliness, it far surpassed the western sector. Beyond the numerous residential areas, it housed several unique streets. As Jin Zhanyi put it, the most vital artery of the entire city was the snack street.

The eastern region of Great Shen was certainly different from harsh, cold lands like the Northwest. Even in such a border city, there was an abundance of local culinary delights. Throughout the history of Great Shen, the very concept of 'eating' seemed to be ingrained deep within the bones of all its people.

Of course, aside from the street food, there were countless other shops and alternative forms of livelihood. According to Jin Zhanyi’s briefing, brothels occupied a considerable share of this area. This was hardly surprising; with the garrison troops stationed in the West District, it would be nearly impossible for these establishments not to thrive.

However, places like that held no interest whatsoever for either He Yiming or Jin Zhanyi. Perhaps the only thing that could truly capture their attention was the renowned snack street that Jin Zhanyi so highly recommended.

As he wound his way through alleys, when they finally emerged, He Yiming’s nose twitched involuntarily several times. The air was indeed thick with fragrance, and what surprised him even more was that he couldn't precisely identify the source of the aroma.

Seeing the expression on He Yiming’s face, Jin Zhanyi burst into laughter. “Brother He, this entire row features unique northern delicacies, many of them exquisite. Since you’re here, you must eat your fill. A few of these specialty items are close cousins to Northwest staples. Though they exist in the interior, they simply can’t replicate this unique local flavor.”

He Yiming smiled and nodded. “Brother Jin, this time you are the host; I shall simply follow your lead.”

Jin Zhanyi handed the reins of the horses to Fei Tianguo and said, “Follow me.”

Jin Zhanyi appeared intimately familiar with the surroundings, and within moments, He Yiming was sampling three distinct dishes. Jin Zhanyi’s words were certainly not an exaggeration; He Yiming had never tasted these flavors before, and their excellence seemed in no way inferior to the feasts served in the noble houses of the Northwest kingdoms.

He Yiming felt great curiosity. “Brother Jin, you seem so familiar with this place; have you visited many times?”

Jin Zhanyi shook his head with a smile. “This is only my second visit to this city.”

He Yiming was astonished internally. To be this familiar after only two visits seemed unlikely.

Jin Zhanyi sighed lightly. “Brother He, to be frank, I once traveled the world. I have visited the majority of the famous cities across all of Great Shen. And once I visit a place, I generally don't forget it.”

He Yiming finally understood. “Brother Jin, I originally took you for a martial arts fanatic, but I did not realize you were also a seasoned gourmand.”

Jin Zhanyi suddenly offered a cryptic smile. “Brother He, the territory of my Great Shen is vast, and the styles of martial arts differ greatly from region to region. Each possesses its own history, tradition, and characteristics. It is just like these foods; there are underlying connections.”

He Yiming raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at the half-eaten flatbread in his hand, and asked with suspicion, “What connection do these foods have with the martial path?”

Jin Zhanyi laughed heartily several times. “The Path of Eating is profound and limitless. The myriad flavors represent the infinite transformations of the energy of heaven and earth to me. If, one day, I could merge all the tastes of the world into one, that would signify the Great Accomplishment of the martial path.”

A sharp glint flashed in He Yiming’s eyes. He had never heard such a philosophy before, but listening now, it seemed to carry a certain logic. Subtly, he felt he had grasped something, yet this thread of thought danced before his eyes like a flickering lantern, leaving him with a sense of helplessness.

Far off, the sound of a horse’s neighing and a sharp shout could faintly be heard.

As if waking from a dream, He Yiming turned his head back. From the rear of the snack street, he heard the angry roar of Fei Tianguo.

Since he was responsible for the three fine horses, Fei Tianguo had waited quietly at the entrance of the alley behind them instead of joining them on the street. For some unknown reason, however, he had apparently clashed with someone.

Jin Zhanyi snorted in annoyance. Since entering this city, they had truly set foot on Great Shen soil. That someone here would dare disregard the authority of the Lingxiao Palace—wasn't that like challenging a powerful force head-on?

He took one stride, without seeming to twist his body, yet he slipped smoothly through the surging crowd as if he were a fish in water. In just a few breaths, he had arrived at the source of the disturbance.

He Yiming followed closely, as if drawn by an invisible thread connecting them, maintaining his pace perfectly until he reached the scene.

Dahei and the other two mounts were tethered to a large tree. Fei Tianguo stood beside the horses, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips. Not far behind Dahei, a young man lay on the ground clutching his stomach, moaning in pain. Judging by his pale complexion, the agony seemed to have pierced deep into his bones.

Beside the injured young man stood another youth of similar age, but this one clearly lacked the capability to handle sudden incidents. He stood helplessly to the side, unsure how to manage the aftermath.

After the conflict erupted, many people had gathered, but they kept a respectful distance from the large tree, seemingly wary of something.

Jin Zhanyi strode forward robustly, and Fei Tianguo quickly bowed in deference. With a wave of his hand, Jin Zhanyi asked, “What is the matter?”

Fei Tianguo replied respectfully, “Martial Ancestor Jin, this man saw Dahei and rushed forward recklessly. Dahei became agitated and kicked him.”

He Yiming glanced at Dahei’s hind hoof—the size of a large bowl—then looked at the young man writhing on the ground with a touch of pity in his eyes. To take such a blow and only be injured, rather than having his internal organs ruptured, meant this man’s internal energy cultivation must have reached at least the Sixth Layer. However, provoking Dahei was surely asking for death.

Indeed, upon hearing the explanation, Jin Zhanyi was not angry; instead, he stepped forward and affectionately patted Dahei twice. “Old friend, well done.”

The onlookers sucked in a collective breath of cold air. Their master praised his mount for injuring someone, an attitude that treated human life as mere straw, naturally sending shivers down their spines.

He Yiming’s gaze swept over the onlookers, noting their expressions. Suddenly, his heart lurched, and cold sweat prickled his back. After witnessing that scene, he felt not the slightest shock, nor any impulse to seek justice for the injured youth or offer aid. At some unknown point, his heart had begun to turn cold, gradually aligning itself with these top-tier figures. In their eyes, human life truly was no more than weeds.

He Yiming had once imagined that perhaps after decades, he too would look down on such things, become accustomed to birth, aging, sickness, and death, and grow indifferent. But only at this moment did he realize how swiftly, abruptly, and unconsciously this transformation had occurred.

Jin Zhanyi looked at He Yiming with surprise. In his perception, He Yiming’s aura seemed to have become extremely unstable—an almost unbelievable occurrence for a powerhouse of their caliber.

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the crowd. As if they had seen fierce demons, the crowd parted automatically, and under the escort of several figures, a military officer and a middle-aged man entered the area.

Jin Zhanyi glanced at the newcomer from afar, and whether intentionally or not, he slowly turned his body, presenting his back to the man. He Yiming noticed this and dimly guessed that this individual must be acquainted with Jin Zhanyi.

Among the approaching group were more than ten men in military uniform. Wherever they passed, the crowd retreated like a broken tide, indicating that these people held significant prestige in the city, at least on this street.

The middle-aged man scanned the area once, then suddenly quickened his pace, closing the distance in a few strides to reach the groaning man on the ground. He bent down, lifted him up, and exclaimed angrily, “Ling Kai, how are you?”

The nearby younger attendant seemed to have found his target and quickly reported, “Master, the young master saw a fine horse here and was just trying to get a closer look. But unexpectedly, this person recklessly rode his horse and kicked the young master.” He pointed an accusing finger, exaggerating slightly, while glaring fiercely at Fei Tianguo.

The accompanying officers accompanying the middle-aged man glared, and the lead officer declared, “Old Brother Fang, someone dares to ride recklessly and injure your young master? This person is absolutely a villain deserving of death.” He then glanced up at Dahei, paused briefly, and muttered, “What a fine horse.”

The middle-aged man channeled internal energy into his son’s body, helping to stabilize his injuries, and followed the officer’s gaze. When he clearly saw Dahei, he first froze, then gasped in shock, his eyes showing disbelief. His body trembled, and he abruptly turned his head, first glancing at He Yiming—a swift, lingering look—then fixing his gaze on Fei Tianguo. His expression shifted from doubt to certainty, finally resting on Jin Zhanyi, whose back was turned, leaving his own face completely devoid of color.

The military officer, who had been about to move in and seize someone, became tense upon seeing the middle-aged man’s expression and immediately fell silent.

The muscles in the middle-aged man’s face twitched twice. Suddenly, he released his hands, letting his son fall heavily back onto the ground. Then, to the utter astonishment of everyone present, he knelt down respectfully and proclaimed loudly, “Disciple Fang Shuyue, an outer disciple of the Lingxiao Palace, pays respects to Martial Ancestor Jin.”

The scene instantly fell silent. The young attendant, who had been mumbling incessantly, now stared with wide eyes, his jaw slackening, completely unable to utter another word.