"We have accommodations," Tian Shou announced, his tone carrying a barely veiled edge of irritation. "Though not exactly befitting our sect's status. Due to unforeseen circumstances," he continued, his voice strained with unspoken annoyance, "we've been assigned a smaller wing in one of the lesser halls. Core Disciples will occupy the larger rooms, naturally."
His gaze settled on Tian Hao, a mixture of resignation and quiet reprimand in his eyes. "As for you, Tian Hao—along with Lin Mei and Fatty Wu—you'll be staying in a separate location, The Humble Petal Inn… due to limited space."
Murmurs rippled through the Skyward Lotus Sect disciples as they exchanged disappointed glances, their resentment palpable. A few cast Tian Hao glances that held an undertone of blame, muttering about favoritism and the injustice of it all.
Tian Hao kept his face carefully neutral, masking the familiar pang of guilt, refusing to let Jin Bao or anyone else see him falter. He caught a flicker of irritation in Lin Mei's expression, the slight tightening of her jaw, betraying the tension simmering beneath her disciplined calm.
The journey to their accommodations was a somber one, with the Lotus Wind descending toward the inn in an almost anticlimactic arc. The once-grand sails now draping downward as though even the ship itself felt the blow to their sect's pride.
The Humble Petal Inn—a weathered building tucked away in a side alley far from the city's vibrant heart—seemed to have seen better days. Its walls leaned slightly inward, and an uneven line of lanterns flickered weakly above the entrance, casting jagged shadows across the cobblestone.
Jiuwei perched indignantly on Tian Hao's shoulder, her golden eyes narrowing as she surveyed the inn with a disdainful sniff.
"This is it?" Her voice dripped with disbelief as she pressed her tiny paws to her nose, as though to shield herself from the faint aroma of stale beer mingling with something vaguely cabbage-like. "This mighty celestial guardian, relegated to this hovel? I've seen spirit beast dens with more class."
"Maybe we'll grow fond of it," Tian Hao replied dryly, attempting a forced smile. "It's close to the market, convenient if you're feeling adventurous."
Jiuwei shot him a withering look, her tail lashing behind her. "Adventurous?" She let out a small, disdainful huff. "Only if I'm seeking tetanus or the scent of boiled radishes."
Opening the door and stepping inside, a squat, surly innkeeper in a faded apron appeared from behind a counter, barely glancing at the group as he gestured for them to follow.
They trailed behind him down a narrow, dimly lit corridor where lanterns cast long, jittery shadows that danced over the cracked walls, adding an eerie touch to their already underwhelming surroundings.
As they passed other closed doors, muffled voices and the occasional clatter from unseen guests punctuated the silence, adding to the inn's peculiar charm—or lack thereof. The innkeeper stopped before a door at the corridor's end, pulling out a rusted key and unlocking it with a reluctant twist.
"Here's your area," he grumbled, pushing the door open to reveal their accommodations with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Common room's all yours, plus three bedrooms. No hot water after sundown, and breakfast's bread if we're in a good mood."
With that, he turned and trudged back down the hall, leaving them to inspect their quarters.
They stepped inside, taking in the dimly lit common room, its sparse furnishings arranged with the kind of haphazard neglect that only time and indifference could achieve. A few mismatched chairs and rickety tables were scattered across the room, each one bearing the weight of thick layers of dust, like forgotten relics of a simpler era.
A narrow fireplace sat against the far wall, its stones blackened and cracked, though a few logs had been thoughtfully—if half-heartedly—stacked inside, promising a minimal level of comfort.
Fatty Wu scratched his head, squinting at a peeling poster on the wall that depicted some Mountains and what might have once been a vibrant scene of sunrise. Now, it looked more like a ghostly memory of a lost vista, the colors faded and edges torn.
"Well," he said with a rueful smile, "it has… personality."
Lin Mei's gaze swept over the room, her lips pressed in a thin line as she took in the threadbare curtains, patched rugs, and a row of brass lanterns with cracked glass covers hanging from the beams above.
"Is that what we're calling it?" she muttered, tapping her foot as though bracing herself against the very feel of the place.
Jiuwei leapt from Tian Hao's shoulder onto a side table, her nose twitching as she ran a delicate paw through the dust.
"Personality? This place is an assault on all five senses." She sniffed disdainfully, flicking a speck of dust from her fur. "I am Jiuwei, Guardian of Realms, and they expect me to sleep here?"
"Better get used to it, oh mighty Guardian," Tian Hao teased, dropping his travel bag onto a sagging chair. "Wouldn't want you to miss the rustic experience."
"Rustic?" Jiuwei scoffed, arching her back as though stretching to shake off the very thought of it. "This isn't rustic; it's… appalling. Only dust, cobwebs, and lighting that could double as an interrogation tactic!"
"Maybe it's an advanced cultivation technique," Tian Hao suggested with a grin. "A trial of the senses—endure the dust and stale air, gain enlightenment."
Lin Mei, observing her companions' banter, allowed herself a faint smile, though she couldn't entirely shake the unease lingering from Jin Bao's taunts.
The Celestial Conclave wasn't just a gathering—it was a place where allegiances and standings were tested. The inn's drab atmosphere only seemed to deepen the weight of their current standing in the cultivation world.
At the far end of the room, three narrow doorways branched out to individual bedrooms, each cloaked in the same worn, unassuming atmosphere as the common room. Tian Hao peeked into his assigned room, spotting a narrow bed tucked into the corner, an old wooden chest at its foot, and a single, small window with faded, moth-eaten curtains.
"Look on the bright side," he said, half to himself and half to the others. "We each get our own room. Privacy's a luxury, right?"
Fatty Wu wandered over to the nearest bedroom, poking his head inside before whistling under his breath. "I think I've seen wider spaces in the sect pantry."
Lin Mei crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. "And less dust, I'd hope."
"Alright," Tian Hao said, clapping his hands together with a forced enthusiasm, "since we're here, might as well spruce things up. No reason a great sect should be uncomfortable, even in a humble inn."
Jiuwei, her nose wrinkling as she took a deep, bracing breath through her mouth, as if the air itself offended her.
"This place reeks of… missed potential," she sniffed, casting a pointed glance at the worn furniture and dim, flickering lanterns. "Who designed this décor—a blind mountain troll?"
Tian Hao chuckled, rolling up his sleeves as he glanced around, pretending to admire the "ambience" of the room. "Careful, Jiuwei," he teased, leaning down to brush a speck of dust off her delicate paw. "I might start thinking you're spoiled. You do realize not every place can live up to your regal standards."
Jiuwei shot him a scathing look, the faint glow in her golden eyes hinting at an inner fire that would have been terrifying if not for her diminutive form. "Spoiled?" She lifted her nose with an indignant huff, arching her back. "I am accustomed to standards, Tian Hao."
Tian Hao smirked, tossing his travel pack into a corner where it kicked up a small puff of dust. "Think of it as a test of your magnificence," he replied with an exaggerated bow. "Wouldn't want the mighty Jiuwei losing her composure over a little dust."
Jiuwei flicked her tail, her voice dripping with disdain. "My composure is ironclad. Unlike this room." She turned her back, nose in the air, though she shot him an approving glance when she thought he wasn't looking.