"It's Riley fucking Wright!" The expletive reverberated through the crowded tavern, catching the attention of patrons mid-sip and drawing curious gazes from all corners of the dimly lit establishment.
"I'd have reckoned he wouldn't return, or worse, come back as a corpse after what he pulled," murmured a shadowy figure nestled in the corner, their words laden with a mix of disdain and concern, blending seamlessly with the soft clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation.
"Tsk. Tsk. He was a fool to squander all that wealth in a futile bid to impress Miss Sophia Thompson," chimed in another patron, shaking their head in disappointment.
"Ahhh... these young masters are dreadfully naive nowadays. They think a woman's affection can be bought with a few flashy trinkets and a roll of dice."
The tavern's atmosphere crackled with whispered gossip and knowing glances exchanged among the city dwellers, each adding their own embellishment to the tale of Riley Wright's folly.
Riley turned a deaf ear to the murmurs that echoed through the bustling streets of Astral Dawn City.
It mattered little to him what tales the gossiping tongues spun, for he knew that the deeds they recounted belonged to a bygone era, a chapter of the Wright family's history long since closed.
With a stoic demeanor, he pressed on through the throngs of passersby, his gaze fixed ahead on his destination.
There was a quiet determination in Riley's stride as he traversed the winding paths, each step carrying him closer to the imposing gates of a grand cultivation mansion.
Its sprawling grounds spoke volumes of both wealth and lineage, an architectural marvel that had withstood the test of time.
As he drew nearer, the ornate details of the mansion came into sharper focus, revealing intricate carvings and gilded adornments that bespoke a rich tapestry of history.
The Wright clan had called this mansion home for more than five centuries, its foundations rooted deep within the fabric of Astral Dawn City.
Over the centuries, they had carved out a place of prominence within the city's bustling landscape, their astute business acumen paving the way for prosperity and success.
It was said that the very walls of the mansion whispered tales of the family's rise to prominence, each brick and stone bearing witness to their enduring legacy.
As Riley approached the gate, his steps measured and deliberate, he found his path unexpectedly obstructed by the presence of an aged figure, weathered by time and burdened by the weight of unspoken truths.
The old man, a sentinel guarding the threshold of the grand mansion, cast a long, shadowy silhouette against the backdrop of the rising sun, his gaze piercing and unforgiving.
"You shouldn't have returned, young master Riley," the old man's voice, though frail with age, carried a steely undertone that reverberated through the air like a solemn decree.
His words were not merely a warning, but a grim reminder of the rift that existed between Riley and the clan he once called home.
The old man's words cut deep, carrying with them the implicit suggestion that Riley's absence would have been preferable, that his purported demise in the wilderness would have spared the clan from the burden of his existence.
It was a sentiment that had haunted Riley since his youth, a constant reminder of his perceived inadequacy in the eyes of those who mattered most.
And yet, despite the disdain that clouded the old man's eyes, Riley remained steadfast, his chin held high and his gaze unyielding.
As Riley stood before the doors, a fleeting surge of bloodlust coursed through his veins, igniting a primal urge within him to lash out against the old man who dared to stand in his way.
In that moment, he could envision himself delivering a single devastating blow, obliterating the frail form before him and disposing of the evidence without a trace.
The temptation was tantalizing, the prospect of erasing this obstacle from his path with ruthless efficiency almost too enticing to resist.
But as quickly as the impulse had surfaced, Riley quelled it with a steely resolve born of restraint and self-discipline.
For despite the darkness that lurked within him, Riley was not yet a slave to his baser instincts. He was a man of principle, bound by a code of honor that forbade senseless violence and wanton destruction.
The old man, oblivious to the danger that had loomed over him mere moments before, remained fortunate in his ignorance, spared from a premature demise by Riley's unwavering restraint.
And so, with a silent vow to temper his impulses with reason and restraint, Riley stepped back from the precipice of violence, his gaze steady and unwavering as he met the old man's gaze with a mixture of disdain and resignation.
Though the temptation to succumb to his darker impulses lingered like a shadow at the edge of his consciousness, Riley remained resolute in his commitment to tread the path of righteousness, no matter the obstacles that lay before him.
And what better disguise to veil true intentions and emotions than behind the mask of folly. And so Riley smiled like a fool that he was not.
"Ahhhh… so glad to see that you're still wearing your usual happy poker face, Old Matthew," Riley said with a big smile, addressing the older man who had been a constant pest in his life.
"I just wanted to let my parents know that I'm safe and that they shouldn't worry about me. Do they have time this early in the morning?"
Old Matthew, known among the locals for his straightforwardness, took one step forward, his expression unreadable behind his grizzled features.
"Your father is out of town, attending to business as always, and your mother has been deeply engrossed in her closed-door cultivation for a month now," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of finality.
"Your presence here isn't necessary, Riley, and frankly, I doubt your parents are concerned whether you return or not."
"I see," Riley murmured, his eyes clouded with a mixture of disappointment and resignation. The revelation stung more than he cared to admit.
Growing up as an orphan on Earth, he had always yearned for the warmth of parental love, the reassuring presence of caregivers who would guide him through life's trials.
His arrival in this mystical xianxia realm had sparked a glimmer of hope, a chance for a fresh start where he could finally experience the familial bond he had craved for so long.
But now, faced with OId Matthews's blunt assessment and the stark reality of his parents' indifference, Riley felt a familiar ache resurface within him.
It was as if fate had played a cruel joke, teasing him with the promise of belonging only to snatch it away once more.
The weight of loneliness settled heavily upon his shoulders, reminding him that he was, in essence, still an orphan, adrift in a world that felt increasingly alien.
As he turned to leave, his footsteps echoing against the usual road of Old Matthews's barricade, Riley couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.
This was not the grand adventure he had envisioned, nor the heartwarming reunion he had longed for.
It seemed that his journey in this realm would be fraught with challenges far beyond what he had anticipated, and the realization left him feeling more lost and alone than ever before.