Jian finally had a breakthrough in his design of the spiritual crossbow finally happened the day before he was to depart. He had long since hit the limit in terms of the amount of energy that he could impart to the projectile. That meant that he had also hit the limit in terms of the amount of energy that the projectile could impart to the target. However, after thinking about the matter, he had realized that he still had a great deal of room for improvement in how that energy would be delivered.

He had run into the same problem before in a different guise when he had trained in martial arts. As a cultivator stuck at the peak of Essence Condensation, there had been no way for him to increase the power that he could put into his blows. At least, no way other than the mortal method of arduous exercise in exchange for a modest increase in strength. Instead, he had been forced to learn how to apply the limited power available to him in creative ways, so as to incapacitate opponents who were much stronger than he.

A projectile couldn't act in as sophisticated a fashion as a martial artist, of course. At least, not without an awful lot of formations work that was well beyond Jian and probably would be for a long time. But some basic principles could be observed.

Really, Jian didn't have to look beyond the boundary of his own workshop for inspiration. Among the artist's tools he had been provided were a hammer and a chisel. He could hammer away all day at a block of marble without doing any noticeable damage. If he were to hammer the chisel with the same level of force, though, that same effort could easily chip away pieces of stone.

Trying to fire an entire crossbow bolt at high speed would take more spiritual energy than Jian could provide, at least with the materials on hand. If he shrunk the crossbow bolt down to half size, though, its speed noticeably picked up. When he shrunk it down to half size again, it fired out of his crossbow tube with enough speed to impart the crack of a sonic boom before it shattered itself against the marble.

Now, that had potential. It wouldn't do him much good to send off crossbow bolts to shatter against the skin of his targets, though. Thus, Jian's final iteration of his spiritual crossbow, at least for now, launched small slugs of iron at great speed. He had actually managed to knock a chip into the marble in testing. Stone wasn't a precise counterpart to a cultivator's defenses, of course, but he counted it a good sign.

He arrived at the Heavenly Sword Sect's villa with his spiritual crossbow strapped to his waist, together with a pouch full of ammunition. He'd also brought a walking staff. He could use it as a melee weapon in a truly dire situation, but unfortunately he also expected he would need it in order to maintain even an ordinary walking pace through the jungle.

Meirong took a skeptical look at his armaments before disappearing inside the villa. She returned with what was either a long knife or a short sword. Jian looked at her, wondering what she possibly expected him to do with such a thing.

"Fighting isn't the only thing to worry about in the jungle," she said. "We'll both have to work together to cut a path, sometimes."

Jian nodded. He had read about the choking vegetation of the jungle, but it was easy to forget that kind of detail. Meirong was a valuable escort, not just for her combat ability or her mastery of the stealth art, but also because of her practical experience in the jungle. It was unfortunate that all of that valuable expertise was inextricably packaged with her personality.

As they neared the carriage that would take them out of the city lord's compound, she turned and flashed him an impish grin. "Are you excited to be going on a trip all alone together with your beautiful fiancee?"

She boarded the carriage before he had a chance to reply. Jian followed in her wake, taking a seat that faced her across a narrow table. He took a moment to compose his thoughts before he spoke. "How can I consider you a fiancee, after all that has happened?"

"Hmm," she said, her expression only dimming for a moment. "But you do admit that I'm beautiful?"

"I can't deny the obvious," Jian said. Even in the depths of his anger over Meirong's behavior, he'd never been able to fool himself into thinking she was unattractive.

She giggled, but didn't say anything further. Jian was grateful for the silence as the carriage moved out to begin the first leg of their journey.

As usual, the aura of the Heavenly Sword Sect was enough to see them out of the compound without so much as opening the curtain, let alone an inspection. Jian had decided to leave it to Shan to explain to the people of the city lord's manor that Master Zhou had entered a state of enlightenment and would require neither food nor water while he sustained himself on inspiration. He would deliver suitably dire warnings of what would transpire should his grandfather be disturbed during such a state and stand guard outside the studio to ensure that their ruse was not discovered.

As the carriage rolled along, Jian had nothing to do but alternate between staring out the window and studying his traveling companion. Once she had settled down from the excitement of setting off and the entertainment of teasing him, Meirong's expression had actually become much more solemn. Seeing as the two of them would be relying on her arts alone for survival, Jian was glad to see that she was taking it seriously.

He decided against making conversation just for the sake of hearing himself talk. He didn't want to disturb Meirong's mental preparations when he was the one who would pay the price for any mistakes she made. He was curious about the jungle, but if he truly needed to know anything about the Verdant Doom, he was sure she would let him know.

It only took a few hours of travel before the carriage slowed to a stop. It was far less than the time it usually took to travel between cities. Meirong didn't seem to find it odd, though, preparing to dismount from the carriage without comment. Jian followed. The driver tossed down a pair of packs before turning the carriage around and driving away. That left the two of them as the only people around for what seemed like miles.

Jian picked up his pack and took a look around. The carriage had been following a dirt track through closely packed vegetation. They had stopped at a small clearing that had barely been large enough for the carriage to get turned around, and Jian could see that even now the jungle was encroaching on the cleared area. Somebody would have to prune it back if they wanted to keep using this spot.

"Don't forget to take your insect repellant tablet," Meirong said. "And drink plenty of water. It's terribly humid, but you can still get dehydrated if you don't drink."

Jian nodded. He had to bite his tongue to hold back a comment on the sudden motherly turn in Meirong's attitude, but he managed to stay silent while he fished the tablet out of his pack and washed it down with a swig from his canteen. After a moment's thought, he took another drink from the canteen for good measure.

"This is still the outskirts," Meirong continued, "but you shouldn't stray more than a few paces from me, to be safe."

Jian nodded again. The vegetation here wasn't quite at the near-mythical level of explosive growth that had made the Verdant Doom famous in the references he had read, but there was enough greenery growing to make it reasonable to describe this as a trackless wilderness, the sort of place where finding demonic beasts was more of an eventual certainty than a stroke of bad luck.

Meirong closed her eyes to concentrate, moving her hands through an intricate little dance. Jian couldn't divine the purpose of what she was doing directly, but he did notice that his vision of the farther-off trees and plants started to go a little fuzzy. She exhaled and clapped her hands together, and the fuzz amplified until anything beyond about ten paces was a blur.

Curious. She had mastered a powerful technique, but it seemed to come with a serious downside. Of course, for the practitioner, it was quite possible that there was a method to make up for the loss of vision. As a mere beneficiary of the technique, Jian would be left to ride on Meirong's coattails.

With her technique in place, Meirong turned and set off down the carriage track. Jian followed behind, mindful of her admonition not to stray too far apart. She did show some consideration for his physical condition, setting a pace that was challenging but not punishing. All too soon the track they were on narrowed, then disappeared.