"Huh? What do you mean?" Xuefeng's eyebrows shot up at Wuying's reaction. "It's just a discount card, right? Why are you freaking out?"
He turned the golden card over in his hand, scrutinizing it as if the secret might reveal itself. It gleamed under the soft light, but to him, it was just a card.
"This card is much more than just a discount!" Wuying's voice quickened, like a struck match flaring to life. "The Trade Union has shops everywhere. This card means twenty percent off anything, anytime, anywhere. People spend millions of spirit stones trying to get one of these!" Her eyes sparkled, but there was something else behind the excitement—a tremor, maybe. Respect? Or fear?
"Then why give it to me?" Xuefeng asked, frowning. Bewilderment coiled tight around his thoughts. He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or like he was stepping into a trap.
"Manager Wu must've heard about your healed dantian." Wuying leaned in, her tone lowering like they were plotting a heist. "A cultivator burns through resources faster than kindling. And you—Liu Clan Young Master, deep pockets, promising future—you're a gold mine waiting to be tapped. Why shop anywhere else when they've got you locked in with a discount? It's not charity. It's a calculated investment."
"Clever," Xuefeng muttered, nodding. "I'd invest in me too. They must know how amazing I'm going to be once I start cultivating."
Wuying rolled her eyes so hard he thought she might sprain something. "Young Master," she said, her voice going stern, "cultivation isn't as easy as you seem to think. Even if you're talented, gathering Qi is just the start. The real work is endless—months, years of training, and even that doesn't guarantee success. Swordsmanship alone takes a lifetime to master. What's the use of Qi if you can't wield it in battle?"
Xuefeng shrugged, his grin unshaken. "Good thing I've got you to keep me on track." His tone softened, sincerity slipping through the cracks in his humor. "And, hey, you don't need to call me 'Young Master' anymore. Just call me Xuefeng when we're alone."
For a moment, Wuying seemed caught off guard, her expression unreadable. Then, color rushed to her cheeks, and she looked away, her voice shrinking to a near whisper. "O-okay, Xuefeng..."
Her quiet vulnerability struck him, the intimacy of it unsettling. When she stepped closer, her shoulder brushing his, he tensed. It wasn't her fault—it was him. His heart raced, a mess of guilt and confusion tangling in his chest. Before the moment could spiral, he stood abruptly, clearing his throat.
"That's better," he said, nodding as if to convince himself. "Now, let's head to that Pavilion we talked about earlier. It's getting late."
He extended a hand to help her up, only for fate—or bad timing—to intervene. Wuying stumbled as she stood, falling into his arms. Their faces hovered inches apart, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
"Xuefeng," she murmured, her smile disarming and unbearably gentle. "You flustered me with your request… but it made me happy. Please don't take this privilege away, even if you regret it later."
Her fingers brushed his cheek in a gesture so intimate it felt like lightning. Then, as if the moment hadn't happened, she pulled back, her composure snapping into place like a well-fitted mask. "It's called the Spirit Artifacts Pavilion, by the way. Also owned by the Trade Union. You'll be able to use your golden card there."
As she strode ahead, her slender figure cutting through the lamplight, Xuefeng couldn't help but stare. She was all grace and allure, the kind that made his mind wander to places it shouldn't. And she reminded him of Tianshi—so much so it hurt.
Ugh, my self-control is pathetic, he thought bitterly. One day in, and I'm already tangled up with someone else. What am I supposed to do? Stay single forever?
But even as he thought it, another voice whispered in his head: Did you ever really have a future with Tianshi? Or was it all in your head? The ache of her absence gnawed at him, hollowing him out. His mind conjured an image of her, bright and laughing, a memory so vivid it felt like punishment.
"Ah, whatever," he muttered under his breath. "Focus on cultivation. Everything else can wait."
He descended the stairs, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm, when something at the edge of his vision made him pause. A shadow lingered at the top of the staircase, familiar in a way that sent a jolt through him. His breath caught, his chest tightening as his pulse quickened.
"Tianshi?" he whispered, the name slipping out like a secret he hadn't meant to share.
The shadow moved, stepping into the light. For a fleeting moment, hope surged in his chest, sharp and painful. But as the figure came into focus, the truth hit him like a blade to the gut.
It wasn't her. It could never be her. Of course, it wasn't her.
"Who's Tianshi?" Wuying asked, her tone flat but her frown sharp as a blade.
"Ah, no one. Forget it." He waved a hand, too quickly, too carelessly, and hurried down the rest of the stairs, wishing he could erase the moment entirely.
Wuying followed in silence, her earlier warmth replaced by a chill that seemed to seep into the air around them. Her smile was gone, replaced with a measured politeness. "Young Master, this way," she said quietly, gesturing down the street.
Damn it, Xuefeng thought. I have to be more careful. If she finds out I'm not the real Xuefeng…
The thought trailed off, unfinished but heavy, as he followed her into the night.
***
The sun hung low in the sky, bruising the horizon with streaks of red and gold. Shadows spilled across the plaza outside the Spirit Artifacts Pavilion, flickering like restless ghosts as cultivators hurried about. Despite the hour, the place thrummed with life—an unyielding testament to its importance in the cultivation world.
Inside, the air buzzed faintly with residual energy, thick and sharp, like the aftermath of a lightning strike. The massive hall spread out before them, a sprawling space reminiscent of an ancient cathedral with high ceilings and intricate carvings. People moved with purpose, their hushed conversations layered with the occasional crackle of Spirit Qi.
"In the Spirit Artifacts Pavilion, you can buy, sell, and even lend Spirit Artifacts," Wuying explained, her voice low but laced with authority. "You can also post missions to have others hunt for specific Spirit Artifacts, though that'll cost you dearly. It's usually better to hunt beasts yourself."
Xuefeng followed her gaze as they stepped inside, taking in the mission board mounted on the far wall. It was massive, scarred from years of use, with rows upon rows of parchment fluttering like trapped birds. He wandered closer, curiosity tugging at him, and scanned the postings.
[Rank 3 Mission]
[Type: Hunting]
[Beast: Rank 3 Scarlet Butterfly]
[Spirit Artifact: Rank 3 Aura Spirit - Scarlet Moon]
[Group Skill: 3-5 Peak Spirit Masters]
[Reward: 200 Spirit Stones]
"Huh? Two hundred Spirit Stones? That's it?" Xuefeng muttered, frowning. His fingers twitched toward his golden card, the weight of its value suddenly much clearer. What millions? He'd be dead and buried before he earned that kind of money.
"Two hundred is plenty," Wuying replied, her voice calm but firm, like a teacher correcting a child. "Scarlet Butterflies are easy targets. The real challenge is the artifact drop rate—it's abysmal."
Her explanation didn't stop him from skimming the board further. Each entry seemed to tell a story, painted in stark terms of life, death, and desperation.
[Rank 2 Mission]
[Type: Hunting Bodyguard]
[Beast: Rank 2 Green Wolves]
[Group Skill: 1-2 Advanced Spirit Masters]
[Duration: 1 week]
[Reward: 100 Spirit Stones]
***
[Rank 4 Mission]
[Type: Expedition into the depths of Desolate Mountains]
[Beast: Unknown]
[Group Skill: 10+ Spirit Grandmasters]
[Duration: Unknown]
[Reward: 100 Spirit Stones per day]
"These missions keep people alive," Wuying said softly, watching him as he read. "Not everyone has the luxury of a clan's resources. Before I joined the Liu Clan, these missions were my lifeline."
Xuefeng glanced at her, surprised by the undercurrent of emotion in her voice. "Guess they helped shape who you are now. Maybe I should take on a few myself someday—try to be as diligent as you."
His attempts at cheering her up failed as Wuying's eyes remained sharp. "Diligence isn't enough out here. Survival demands more."
Xuefeng looked around, his initial curiosity giving way to unease. For such a grand shop, the Pavilion was eerily sparse—no artifacts on display, no glittering treasures to tempt buyers. Even the counters were bare. "Where's all the stuff? I thought there'd be shelves of Spirit Artifacts or something."
"All artifacts are sold in private chambers," Wuying explained. "They require Spirit Qi to remain stable. They're the remnants of a beast's soul, after all." She tilted her head slightly, studying him. "If you want, we can ask the manager to show us their collection. You've got the golden card—it won't be a problem."
Xuefeng shook his head. "Nah, let's not waste their time. I'm not buying anything today."
Wuying nodded, and together they stepped out into the cooling twilight. Their conversation turned light and casual as they made their way back to the Liu Clan compound, but a quiet tension lingered in the air, thick as smoke.
When they arrived, Wuying excused herself, leaving Xuefeng alone in his courtyard. The silence pressed down on him like a weight, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind. He sank into a chair, staring at the fading light.
I need to be smarter about this world, he thought grimly. Rule number one: don't mention Earth. Rule number two: avoid cliffs. That should do for now.
***
Across the street, the night carried a different kind of weight. In a darkened courtyard, a young man sat with his teeth clenched, his right arm bound tightly in bandages. Blood seeped through the cloth, a grim reminder of what he'd lost.
"Father, you have to take revenge for me!" Liu Zexi spat, his voice raw with anger. He turned toward the imposing figure behind him—a man with a face carved from stone, his eyes cold and unreadable.
The slap came fast, sharp, and merciless, snapping Liu Zexi's head to the side. Pain bloomed across his cheek.
"Do you realize what you've done?" his father growled, his voice low and venomous.
"But she cut off my arm!" Liu Zexi shouted, the rage boiling over again.
Another slap. Harder this time. The sound cracked through the courtyard like a gunshot.
"Shut up," his father hissed. "Be grateful she didn't take your head. I can't even match her strength, and you dared provoke her?"
Liu Zexi fell silent, the fight draining out of him. His father's words settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. "Who is she?" he asked finally, his voice trembling. "I thought she was just a servant."
The man sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of some unseen burden. "Do you know why I never became Clan Leader, even though I was stronger than Liu Xiaobei?"
"Because Grandfather chose him?" Liu Zexi ventured.
"No," his father said bitterly. "That was just the story they told to save face. The real reason is the woman you just insulted. She's a Spirit King—a twenty-year-old Spirit King. Your grandfather saved her life once, and she pledged herself to the Liu Clan. With her help, we crushed every rival clan in the region."
He stared at his son, his expression grim. "If losing an arm is what it took to survive, consider yourself lucky."
Liu Zexi swallowed hard, his face pale. "How was I supposed to know?" he whispered. "She's… terrifying."
His father turned to leave. "Stay away from Xuefeng. With Wuying protecting him, he's untouchable. Focus on your training. If you want to restore our status, you'll need to win a place at the Sacred Institute next year."
"Yes, Father," Liu Zexi said through gritted teeth.
When he was finally alone, his face twisted with confusion and fear. Xuefeng should be dead, he thought. I used Nine Flower Poison. Even a shallow wound should've killed him. Unless the poison was fake…
His hands clenched into fists. Damn it.
The night swallowed his curses, leaving him alone with his doubts.