As they continued their exploration, Tian Hao noticed a group of cultivators whose auras and attire were distinctly different.
They wore long robes of pure white silk, adorned with unfamiliar silver runes that shimmered faintly like starlight against the night sky. Their movements were precise and measured, their expressions serene yet austere, as though carved from jade—reflecting a mysticism that set them apart from the bustling crowd. Their energy felt different, somehow—calmer, more controlled, yet as rigid as the mountain's unyielding stone. It was like the stillness of an ancient river frozen in time, with power held in tension, refusing to bend to the whims of the world.
Fatty Wu leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Those are from the Pure Path Sect, Young Master. Disciplined lot. They believe indulgence of any sort leads to corruption. They look down on such… pleasures," he added with a grimace.
Tian Hao's eyes narrowed as he watched the Pure Path disciples, an air of restrained curiosity dancing behind his gaze.
"A life without indulgence?" he whispered to himself. "Sounds like an excellent way to live...if you're already dead." He was already imagining the sort of reaction he might provoke.
Tian Hao was about to move towards them when Lin Mei grabbed him by the sleeve and gently pulled him back, her fingers tightening against his robe for a second as though she didn't want him to stray.
"Don't even think about it," she muttered under her breath. "We don't need any trouble with the Pure Path Sect. They are devout, almost terrifyingly so. There are rumors that their Grand Master has reached the Nascent Soul Stage, which, from what the seniors at Skyward Lotus say, is far beyond any of our elders here. We do not want to attract their attention," she said.
"Besides," she continued her gentle scolding, a smile returning to her voice as though wanting to comfort him, "it's best not to stare. The elders would hardly approve of such blatant curiosity."
She glanced towards Tian Shou in the distance. "Remember, we need allies, and I can already tell the Iron Talon Sect disciples are watching us closely, their eyes following our every move as though we had stolen their prized hunting dogs. They have reason to…" She trailed off, biting her tongue just in time.
As they passed by a street performance where a young cultivator was showing off his flame manipulation abilities, conjuring fire into elaborate shapes that danced and swirled in the air, the small fox's tail flicked with interest, her ears perking up as she watched the display. "I've seen more impressive farts from Fatty Wu," Jiuwei muttered to herself, though there was a hint of admiration in her voice despite the casual dismissal.
"Did you say something Jiuwei?" Tian Hao asked as he adjusted his stance, the small fox now settled once again on his shoulder.
"Nothing, young one. You must learn when silence is better than words." She made an almost too-human gesture, her head turning slightly, one paw held near her tiny snout as if hiding a yawn behind her fur, as if this small deception was itself a lesson meant for the larger being she had decided to attach herself to.
As they continued to explore, Tian Hao paused by a small stall, where an elderly artisan carved a spiritual totem from a piece of fragrant sandalwood, infusing it with protective runes.
"This totem," the artisan explained, his voice raspy with age, "can ward off lesser spirits and bring good fortune."
Tian Hao, captivated by the intricacy of the craft and the subtle hum of energy emanating from the totem, reached out to touch it.
"It's beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate carvings. He looked closer, his eyes narrowing as he traced one of the runes with his fingertip. He noticed a subtle shimmer, a flicker of energy emanating from within, the power pulsing gently beneath the otherwise elegant, natural form. "I-it's infused with spirit energy," he said, his voice full of curiosity and wonder, "How is this even possible?"
Lin Mei, sensing his eagerness for the smallest trinket, for the smallest display of spiritual energy, his wide-eyed enthusiasm both refreshing and oddly familiar to her more measured, careful focus upon such things.
She couldn't help but smile as she looked at him. "Tian Hao, you're like a young disciple discovering a treasure trove of spirit herbs," she said, her voice warm with amusement. "Or," she added with a mischievous glint in her eye, "perhaps someone seeing the Sect Repository and Alchemy Labs for the first time after too much time in the kitchens?"
"I never imagined a place like this could exist," he said, his gaze sweeping over the bustling crowds and colorful stalls. "So many different kinds of cultivators, so much energy… It's exhilarating."
Fatty Wu, catching up to them, waddled to Tian Hao's side, "I've been told that Skyveil City's a melting pot of cultures and sects. It's a crossroads for all things mystical and mundane—a place where anything can happen." He paused, looking around the crowded square. "Perhaps," he added, "we might even find some truly unique ingredients for my dishes."
Jiuwei yawned lazily as she gestured with a tiny paw.
"Less talk, more action, mortals. Where is this shop selling the finest spirit wines you were bragging about? A Guardian's throat gets parched with all this… sightseeing."
They soon found a humble stall tucked between two towering spice merchants, the scent of fermented fruits luring them closer. A variety of wines were lined up, their hues ranging from pale gold to deep crimson.
Tian Hao picked out and paid for a bottle of amber wine, uncorking it to take in the aroma. He gave a satisfied nod, poured some into two small cups, and handed one to Jiuwei. "Ah, this should do," he said, raising his cup to his lips. The liquid was smooth, warming him from the inside. Jiuwei, perched on his shoulder, carefully grasped the small cup with both of her tiny front paws, holding it in an almost comically delicate manner as she brought it to her lips. Her tiny nose twitched as she took a sip, her eyes half-closing in satisfaction. She let out a pleased sigh, her ears flicking in delight.
"Not bad," she conceded, her whiskers barely moving, as though sharing a small, dignified secret.
As they continued their exploration, Fatty Wu stopped abruptly, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He'd spotted a large notice board pinned to the wall of a nearby building. It was an announcement for a cooking competition, set to take place in two weeks' time. "Young Master, look!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "A cooking competition! I have to enter! Imagine, showcasing my culinary skills to the entire city!"
Tian Hao's eyes gleamed with curious delight. "A cooking competition, you say? Now there's a challenge I can get behind! We'll show them what the Skyward Lotus Sect is made of—not just swordsmanship and formations, but true culinary mastery!"
They gathered around the notice board, reading the details of the competition. It was open to cultivators of all sects, with rewards including rare herbs and spiritual cooking tools. Fatty Wu's eyes sparkled with inspiration as he began rattling off a list of dishes he could prepare, each one more elaborate and outlandish than the last.
"I could make my 'Nine Heavens Phoenix Soup'—infused with the essence of nine different spirit birds! Or perhaps my 'Dragon's Breath Chili,' so spicy it'll make even a fire spirit beast sweat! Imagine, Tian Hao, my 'Cloud Serpent Dumpling' served on platters of moonstone. Surely that alone would earn us the attention of more than just those gathered at the Conclave."
Lin Mei's initial excitement, however, was tempered with the memory of what Tian Shou had so recently said, and a flicker of doubt. "Fatty Wu, you do realize we're here to participate in the Celestial Conclave, not to enter cooking competitions, right?" she pointed out, her voice laced with amusement and a hint of concern, her mind still on the Iron Talon Sect's looming threat, her brow furrowing. "We don't want to draw too much attention, especially from the wrong people."
"The wrong people? Who would begrudge such talent? Or complain at such a simple offering as a fine dumpling? Bah," scoffed Jiuwei.
Fatty Wu, his enthusiasm undeterred, threw his arms up in exasperation. "With all due respect, Young Master Tian, and Senior Sister Lin Mei, this is a chance to show everyone what we can do! The Iron Talon have their brute force, and the Pure Paths have their… asceticism. But who in their right mind does not appreciate a good feast!" he said.
"Besides," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "A little fame never hurts. Imagine, returning to the sect not just as a disciple and a cook but as… a culinary champion!"
"A junior cook, perhaps, but a champion nonetheless," quipped Jiuwei, rolling her eyes. "As though such trivialities hold even a moment's worth of my time."
Tian Hao smiled, clapping his friend on the back, "Fatty Wu, my friend, this is no ordinary competition—it's our chance to charm the entire city. Picture it: the Skyward Lotus Sect's 'Fiery Phoenix' dumplings, humbling the Iron Talons without a single weapon raised!"
Lin Mei rolled her eyes, the tension easing from her face, her expression softening as she gave in with a sigh. "Alright," she conceded, "But we're not drawing unwanted attention. No extravagant displays, no questionable ingredients, and absolutely no… surprises."
Jiuwei's ears twitched. "Questionable ingredients, you say?"