[POV: Tao Yu]

  Red Ember Inn was noisy as ever, the clatter of bowls and the murmur of travelers blending into a familiar hum. I sat by the window, noodles halfway to my mouth, when my thoughts drifted back to the disciple recruitment of the three sects.

  ‘What is taking them so long?’

  At this rate, I might grow old before they finished posturing.

  And where even was Grandfather Tao Fang?

  “Oh!”

  I nearly knocked over my bowl as I spotted him entering the inn.

  “Grandfather! Here!” I waved, abandoning my noodles entirely.

  He shuffled over and sat across from me, looking far too relaxed for someone who’d vanished for half a day.

  “Where have you been?” I demanded.

  “Roaming around,” he replied casually. “Senior Yakuza left me with a few errands.”

  I stared at him. “Old man, do you not have any shame? Aren’t you an elder of our Peaceful Lake Sect?”

  *Smack.

  “Ow!”

  He rapped me on the head with his knuckles. “Watch your mouth. It should be obvious by now that he’s not an ordinary person.”

  I pouted, rubbing my forehead. “Then can’t I just become a disciple under him? I don’t want to leave—”

  Before I could finish arguing my perfectly reasonable case for staying in the Earthly Seal Domain forever, the inn doors slammed open.

  The atmosphere shifted instantly.

  A cultivator stormed in, robes fluttering, face red with fury. Judging by his accent and attire, he was from a neighboring domain, one of those arrogant types who thought the world existed to accommodate him. He jabbed a finger at the innkeeper and bellowed loud enough for the entire room to hear.

  “Do you not know who I am?!”

  The inn fell silent.

  “We looked away when we were overcharged before,” he continued, voice rising, “because our sects are rich and it was a way to compensate your lord for the trouble we caused! But this… this is too much!”

  Bowls froze midair. Even the kitchen went quiet.

  I blinked.

  Overcharged? Again?

  “Grandfather, should we intervene?” I whispered, instinctively tensing as the cultivator’s voice echoed through the inn.

  Tao Fang didn’t even look up from his tea. He simply shook his head. “Senior Yakuza explicitly told us not to get involved,” he said calmly. “Let the law handle it.”

  I frowned but stayed seated.

  Behind the counter, the woman clerk was visibly trembling, her fingers clenched white around the abacus. Just as I thought she might break into tears, the inner door swung open and the inn’s manager strode out.

  And then… something completely unexpected happened.

  Instead of placating the furious cultivator, the manager provoked him.

  “Do you think you are great just because you possess supernatural powers,” the manager snapped, planting himself squarely between the cultivator and the counter, “and that heaven bends the moment you open your mouth?”

  The cultivator froze, clearly not expecting resistance.

  “This is my inn,” the manager continued, voice ringing with restrained fury. “The prices are set this way for a reason. Patrons here pay differently because Yakuza Man has been shouldering their burdens personally from his own pocket.”

  My eyes widened.

  “We are living in a difficult time,” the manager went on. “There was a demon roaming around recently, caught only after causing who knows how much damage. Didn’t you hear? Even the lord’s emergency grain storage was burned!”

  Burned?

  That was the first I’d heard of it.

  “And then there’s the strict curfew your lot caused,” the manager said bitterly. “Businesses suffer further. Customers can’t drink through the night anymore. They leave early, afraid of drawing your attention. Worse still, when cultivators stay here, we risk more losses, because you people even fight among yourselves!”

  Murmurs rippled through the inn.

  “So of course we raised our prices,” the manager concluded coldly. “We need to survive. The lord needs to recover his losses through taxes. If you dislike our prices, you are free to leave and try your luck elsewhere.”

  Silence followed.

  The cultivator’s face turned from red to pale, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

  I sat there, stunned.

  ‘The lord’s grain storage was burned… the cultivators kicked out of the residence… forced to stay at inns… price hikes…’

  When I connected the dots, it all… made sense.

  I turned to Tao Fang, eyes shining. “Old man,” I whispered excitedly, “Yakuza Man is truly a righteous soul, huh?! To think he was shouldering everyone’s food costs here! I should thank him for the noodles I’m eating right now. I should visit him after this!”

  For some reason, Tao Fang refused to meet my gaze.

  He coughed, staring very hard into his teacup, and muttered under his breath, “Y-You shouldn’t bother… trust me. He’s doing perfectly well.”

  That only made me more suspicious.

  Anyway, the cultivator who had just arrived clearly didn’t take the humiliation well.

  From his white robes trimmed with red, I could tell immediately that he was from the Dragon Heart Sect and they rather created a bad impression already among the people, so it couldn’t be good. His face twisted with rage, qi bursting out of him in a visible surge. Before anyone could react, he slammed his palm down.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  *Crash!

  The tabletop shattered. The counter cracked. Chairs flew apart. A ceramic vase exploded into shards against the wall.

  “Know this!” he roared, his voice vibrating with power. “The only reason I didn’t put my hands on you is out of respect for your lord… and because I refuse to sully the name of my righteous sect!”

  The innkeeper didn’t flinch.

  “When I return with my brothers and sisters,” the cultivator continued coldly, “you had better fix your attitude and set your prices right!”

  With that, he turned and stormed out, robes snapping behind him like a banner of fury.

  Silence fell over the inn.

  For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

  Then… low, quiet laughter leaked out from the manager.

  “Mufufufufu…”

  I blinked.

  ‘Mufufufufu? What was that supposed to mean?’

  “I am going to be rich,” the manager said, voice thick with glee.

  …What?

  I stared at the shattered furniture, the broken counter, and the splintered chairs. Wouldn’t he get beaten half to death if this kept going? What part of this situation was supposed to be profitable?

  The manager clapped his hands together and turned to the room. “Free drinks for everyone tonight!” he announced cheerfully. “Though it’ll probably just be cheap ale, drink to your heart’s content!”

  The inn erupted.

  Cheers burst out from every corner be it traveling merchants pounding tables, martial artists laughing loudly, and weary patrons raising cups in celebration. The tension that had been choking the room moments ago vanished like smoke.

  I sat there, utterly bewildered, clutching my bowl of noodles.

  …What in the world was going on in Xincheng?

  I glanced at my grandfather again.

  Tao Fang was still refusing to look at me.

  I had always been confident in my senses. Ever since I started Body Tempering, I could already faintly perceive qi and pick up fluctuations that most ordinary people would miss.

  That was why I heard it.

  Behind the counter, the inn manager leaned close to the clerk, his voice lowered but brimming with excitement.

  “When they come back,” he whispered, “charge them ten times the amount of everything they broke. Tell them it’s reparation fees! Righteous sects have to care about their reputation, don’t they?”

  The clerk swallowed. “Sir… at this rate, won’t you get beaten to death?”

  The manager chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry. Just trust me… I’m going to run now and bring the constables here!”

  My eyes widened.

  I turned to my grandfather in alarm. “U-Um… I think the inn manager is planning to scam the cultivators. We should stop him!”

  Tao Fang reached out and held my hand, his grip steady and calm. His voice dropped into a soft murmur.

  “There’s no need.”

  I looked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

  He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “This is all… Yakuza Man’s scheme.”

  I froze.

  “…What?”

  A chill ran down my spine. Scamming cultivators? Provoking them? Calling constables at just the right time? I swallowed hard, staring at the bustling inn, the laughing customers, and the shattered furniture that was about to become evidence.

  That sounded kind of terrifying.

  I tugged on my grandfather’s sleeve. “B-But how is he going to enforce something like this?”

  “You’ll see,” Tao Fang said quietly.

  Not long after, the atmosphere at the Red Ember Inn shifted abruptly.

  Heavy footsteps echoed from outside, followed by raised voices. I turned just in time to see the entrance crowded. There were the Dragon Heart cultivators in white and red robes, their expressions dark, and right behind them, the armored figures of the Xincheng Constabulary fanning out with practiced efficiency.

  And at the center of it all… was Lady Meng Rong.

  Her presence alone seemed to press down on the room. Conversations died instantly.

  She swept her gaze across the shattered tables and overturned chairs, then fixed her eyes on the Dragon Heart cultivators.

  “This is shameful,” she said coldly. “Bullying a mere mortal just to get your way? Don’t you have any shame?”

  An older man stepped forward. His posture was straight, his expression composed. I recognized him immediately. It was Huang Yong. The same old man who had attacked Yakuza Man at the banquet. If I remembered correctly, he was the uncle of that Huang Long who had caused trouble in this very inn before.

  He looked calm on the surface, but even I could feel the violent churn of his qi beneath that mask.

  Lady Meng Rong didn’t give him room to breathe.

  “What do you have to say for yourself,” she continued sharply, “Huang Yong of the Dragon Heart Sect?”

  Beside me, grandfather Tao Fang sucked in a quiet breath.

  “Lady Meng Rong is ruthless,” he muttered. “She’s deliberately tying his actions to his Sect. That’s going to hurt.”

  I didn’t fully understand the intricacies of sect politics, but even I knew that name-dropping the sect in public, in front of constables and civilians alike, was no small matter.

  Huang Yong’s jaw tightened. A vein throbbed at his temple before he forced his voice to remain steady.

  “I shall compensate the Red Ember Inn for the trouble caused by my junior,” he said stiffly. “How much is it?”

  The clerk leaned toward one of the constables and whispered something. The constable’s lips curled into a grin as he passed the number to a Dragon Heart cultivator.

  The man’s face drained of color.

  He leaned toward Huang Yong and whispered urgently.

  I couldn’t hear the exact amount over the rising murmurs, but the way Huang Yong’s fingers clenched hard enough for veins to bulge along the back of his hand told me everything I needed to know.

  “We shall compensate the Red Ember Inn,” Huang Yong said through clenched teeth. “Bring us to our rooms.”

  His tone was almost violent. I thought they would leave and seek another inn. But as the gossip spread in hushed whispers around me, I realized the truth. This was already their fourth inn.

  The Dragon Heart Sect wasn’t alone either. From what I overheard, the Boulder Path Sect and Phantasm Star Sect were suffering just as badly, overcharged, turned away, or “politely” refused lodging wherever they went.

  I stared at the scene unfolding before me, my heart pounding.

  So this was it.

  This was how Yakuza Man enforced his scheme without lifting a finger in sight or breaking a single law.

  “I’d hate to be Yakuza Man’s enemy.”

  When the commotion finally settled, the constables lingering to restore order and the cultivators begrudgingly accepting their lodging, I felt an inexplicable pressure on my back.

  I looked up and found myself staring straight at Lady Meng Rong.

  She stood there quietly, her gaze fixed on me, as though she were appraising something unseen. My heart skipped a beat. What could someone of her standing possibly want with me?

  Her position was so lofty it felt unreal, something far removed from my daily life of cultivation manuals and chores. Yet here she was, standing beside my table in the Red Ember Inn.

  She turned to my grandfather.

  “May I borrow your granddaughter for a moment, elder?”

  Tao Fang stiffened, then hurriedly nodded. “O–Oh, yes. Of course… please.”

  My stomach tightened.

  “Follow me,” Meng Rong said calmly.

  I stood and followed her, my steps a little unsteady.

  As we walked, she spoke without turning back. “I have a favor to ask of you. I cannot tell you what it is until we reach our destination. If you agree to the favor, I can introduce you to my master, the Dream King. Whether he accepts you as a disciple will depend on him.”

  My breath caught.

  “The Dream King…?”

  She continued, as if stating a simple fact. “My master intends to make this domain his base of operations. That aligns with your wish to remain in the Earthly Seal Domain while still pursuing the path of immortality.”

  My head was spinning.

  “H–Huh? Why me?” I blurted out.

  She finally glanced at me. “Yakuza Man recommended you.”

  My heart skipped.

  We stopped in front of the city library.

  Meng Rong spoke again, her tone turning serious. “The favor I wish to ask is important and sensitive. I want you to accompany my niece for the duration that the three sects remain in Xincheng.”

  My confusion only deepened.

  “She has been lonely,” Meng Rong continued. “Recently, she nearly caused an incident, attempting to leave this place and expose herself. If that had happened, the consequences would be beyond my ability to shield her from.”

  My pulse quickened.

  “Yakuza Man trusts your character,” she said. “So I will place my trust in you as well.”

  We reached the far wall of the library. Meng Rong raised her hand, tracing something invisible in the air. A talisman ignited soundlessly between her fingers, and with a soft whoosh, space itself seemed to peel open.

  A hidden passage revealed an adjacent room.

  Before stepping inside, she turned to me one last time.

  “Do you accept this arrangement? All you need to do is keep her company. Play with her. Entertain her. Ensure she does not grow bored.”

  She added calmly, “I will inform your grandfather that you are safe. And if my master does not accept you as a disciple, I will secure a letter of recommendation from him, one that will allow you to enter any sect of your choosing.”

  It sounded too unreal.

  My throat felt dry as I swallowed. “I… I accept.”

  “Good.”

  She snapped her fingers.

  The library vanished.

  In its place stood a luxurious private chamber, warm and softly lit. At its center, a little girl sat on the floor, playing with a doll.

  My breath caught.

  “Xue Hai!?”

  It was her, the shy little girl I had escorted alongside grandfather, the Thunder Hooves, and Yakuza Man.

  The girl looked up, eyes bright, and smiled.

  “Who are you?”

  …Ouch.

  “It’s me!” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Big Sis Yu! Don’t you remember?”

  She tilted her head.

  “Oh.”

  My heart sank at her disappointed tone.