As the waiter ran back into the kitchen to relay the strange beggar's order, at a corner of the inn, sitting at a table by himself, a black-haired, handsome young man smiled.
Draped in a midnight black robe with white inners, the young man, who looked to be in his teens, held a sharp gaze. His eyes, a mix of black and purple, reflected the countless thoughts running through his mind.
He seemed to see what others couldn't, peering deeper into the strange beggar. "I see it and I understand it..Sometimes you have to play both sides to come out on top." He whispered, his low voice carried a playful undertone.
Crossing one leg over the other, he took a sip of wine and let out a satisfied sigh.
"You're.. Like me." He intoned, revealing his pearly white teeth with a smile that said, 'My new friend.'
Meanwhile, at the table full of empty dishes, Zhihui gestured his arms as he rambled on about the hardships of a beggar. His voice was full of pain; one might think he was recounting a story with a deep trauma attached.
"...You asked who I am?" Zhihui questioned, glancing at the blonde beauty to his left.
Wang Xinran smiled gently and replied in a charming tone, "I'm curious. I mean, we're eating at the same table, sharing many.. Many nice meals, yet we haven't exchanged names. You've told us so much about the trials you've suffered.." She leaned forward slightly, placing her hand on her heart.
"..and I, Wang Xinran, have been so touched that I must get your name." Her body drew closer to the beggar, to the point that he could smell the flowery fragrance emanating from her.
The two males on the table wore expressions as sour as a lemon freshly plucked from the tree. When had she ever spoken like that to them? Wang Xinran was a top beauty within their sect, pursued by countless men.
Not only was she beautiful, but she was also talented and had a good background. The blonde beauty didn't give even the wealthy young masters pieces of her time.
Yet, at this moment, she was talking sweetly with a beggar.
Despite the jealousy boiling up within them, they could only force themselves to remain cool. They too understood that someone who could eat so much and still ask for a second round couldn't be ordinary.
Wang Xinran knew this all too well, thinking that the strange beggar must be a senior in disguise. Although he may be in ragged clothes with the appearance of a young man, he could be a hundred-year-old secluded expert.
She hoped that, in exchange for the food, the mysterious senior would give them some benefits.
Zhihui's ocean eyes remained on the table, avoiding the blond beauty's ample blossom. "My name.." He thought back to his early days with the old man, thinking back to when he had asked for his name.
As memories of the old man's response flashed through his mind, Zhihui concealed the faint smile and heaved a deep sigh before staring up at the ceiling, saying,
"A beggar," he shrugged his shoulders. "A beggar is not what I am, but..who I am." He continued in a soft, contemplative tone, the words dripping with the richness of understanding. "A beggar has no name."
Wang Xinrans brows drew into a solid line, clearly puzzled. "I see..." She muttered, leaning back into her chair. A plethora of thoughts ran through her mind, and after a moment, a light sigh escaped her lips.
Looking around the room, Zhihui yawned widely before getting up from his seat, placing Mei Lin comfortably. Then, with short strides, he gradually made his way towards the table of black robes. "In fact, none of us have names; each and every one of us is a beggar!"
"It seems the devourer physique is not without its drawbacks; this trash has gone crazy."
"Hey trash, you better keep your distance. Bring that stench over here, and I will cut you down. At most, I'll have to pay a hefty fine; after all, who cares about the life of one measly beggar even if he's a bit special? So if you know what's good for you, keep away, trash."
Zhihui continued strolling towards the table, as if oblivious to the killing intent radiating from it. As he inched closer, the air became heavy. The crimson-and-black-robed cultivators had stopped eating and were now sharing a frown.
They eyed the beggar like hungry wolves.
Less than five meters away from their table, Zhihui stopped and observed them. Being this close, he could now make out their features. The robes had a dark crimson hue, and the material seemed to be some sort of silk.
Along the cuffs and around the neck of the robe were hauntingly beautiful inscriptions resembling blood-eyed ravens, woven intricately into the fabric.
The blood-eyed ravens, with their piercing gaze, appear almost ethereal against the dark crimson backdrop, creating an enigmatic allure.
'So these are bloodlust sect disciples..' Zhihui thought as his eyes swept over their faces. They all seemed to be young adults, but with the effect of cultivation making them seem younger, who knew their real ages? Most had short or medium black hair and some had stubbles, others had scars.
However, they all had a certain glint in their eyes, a murderous sheen, like a longing for blood.
Zhihuis eyes began to glow a dark gray, focusing on their faces, trying to discern something.
'Three seventh-level Qi condensers and two sixth-level Qi condensers... It's possible..' His palms drew together and began to rub against each other slowly, a faint, cruel smile leaking out.
'With Sage Mode, I could do it: kill all of them and collect the IQ of one. Not only would it save me a lot of time from having to gather a lot of information by myself,
But with the new knowledge, this mission would be a lot less risky, and I'd learn more about this world, maybe some martial arts too.'
He squinted slightly. 'However, the fine they spoke of and the rules of this city—are they that simple?'
Approaching the table once more, Zhihui's face suddenly contorted into a menacing frown, whipping his head to the right.
The abrupt change in demeanor was followed by waves of killing intent—dark and heavy. Like a tsunami, it poured through the inn, swallowing all those inside.
Submerged, they held their breaths. Like anchors underwater, every movement was encumbered. Still, their hands all drew nearer to their weapons.
Zhihui's eyes darted around, searching for the source of the serpent stare he had felt, cold like steel against his skin.
The two dark pools of blue soon settled on an empty table in the corner.
There was no one.
He clicked his tongue and the ocean-like killing intent retreated.
All those in the room had stood up at this point, cold sweats running their faces and alarm in their wide eyes.
After one last glance at the crimson-robed disciples, Zhihui walked back to his table. He picked up and carried the still-slumbering young girl. "Oh kind Immortals, it has been such a privilege to be able to feast with you, but I can no longer impose, as it would be selfish.
The waiters should soon arrive with the next set of dishes. Enjoy them. This beggar will not interrupt your meal any longer."
However, the chefs and waiters, who were delighted at having a big spender in their store moments ago, were now frozen still, their faces pale as a ghost.
"Wait–" Wang Xinran called out to him.
The beggar did not respond and took steps that seemed slow but were quick and left the Inn.
With his departure, the atmosphere seemed to become lighter. But no one was in the mood to eat. And those outside the inn had already scattered.
In the wake of the murderous aura, only one held a smile.
"Ooh..scary." The dark, purple-eyed young man whispered, looking back at the inn as he increased the distance. "You owe me now."