Dai Xin frowned, and folded his hands into his sleeves. With a sigh, he bowed to Torako and Kyang. 

"Forgive my rudeness. This one became overzealous. But, if it pleases Miss Torako, I would dearly like to learn more of the arts of your homeland. Perhaps we could continue this at a later time."

As he straightened his back he nodded to Liu, and turned towards the trees at the edge of town. 

"Miss Kyang, I have discerned what I believe to be the most efficient way for us to move without being seen. Please follow me." he said over his shoulder. "Good luck to you, Miss Torako, young master Fengxian." And with that, he took a deep breath. A slightly translucent aura, like fog rising over frosted glass, began to form near his navel and traveled down his leg in wispy spirals, until it reached the soles of his feet. 

"Fist of the Sky, Eight Directions Method - Compression Step."

His legs flexed like he was going to skip, like one might frolic through flowers. But instead he soared in the blink of an eye and landed, catlike, atop the village gate. He looked back at Kyang and pointed to a nearby tree. 

"Make sure to bend your knees and relax your core when you land, lest the branches' movement give us away." Again he leaped, and this time landed at the end of a branch a bit too thin for anyone else's comfort. Yet his feet gripped it through his shoes, the slippers bending as he flexed his toes and soles, and in a flowing movement he began running along it the way only a master tightrope artist could. Soon he'd disappeared into the canopy, and the only sign of his passing was a bare rustling that could just as easily have been the wind.