Armed with new understanding, Han Yu leaned back in his courtyard chair, hands behind his head, eyes gleaming like a mischievous fox in a chicken coop.
"I need more data," he mused aloud. "A large crowd… mixed emotions… ideally some public embarrassment. And a patsy."
His eyes narrowed.
Moments later, Han Yu was walking casually toward the training arenas where disciples usually sparred under light supervision. Today was no exception. The circular stone arena was surrounded by several tiers of stone seating, already filled with dozens of Outer Court disciples watching the day's challenges.
Perfect.
With a small adjustment to his robes and a rather ugly hat shoved low over his head, Han Yu approached the arena under one of his usual disguises. He pulled his spirit sense close and swept through the crowd.
Excitement. Boredom. Contempt. Disinterest.
Then he found it.
Ah, yes. Target locked.
