The High Heaven Pavilion's treasury was a grand hall of wealth and mystique, its atmosphere heavy with the lingering energy of countless treasures. Shelves lined the chamber, holding glowing pills, rare materials, and artifacts. A faint, metallic scent mixed with the musty air, reminding any visitor that they stood in a place of immense value.
At the center of the treasury sat an old man at a sturdy wooden counter, his figure unassuming yet oddly commanding. Meng Wu Ya, the treasurer, was known for his shrewdness and love of wealth. His round face bore a perpetual look of disinterest, but his sharp, calculating eyes betrayed a mind that missed no detail.
Yan Xiu stepped forward, placing the Verdant Serpent's dull green core on the counter. Meng Wu Ya glanced at it briefly, his brow furrowing. "A Verdant Serpent," he muttered, picking it up with an air of casual expertise. "First rank, decent condition, but… something's off with this core." He held it up, squinting at it. "Its energy feels thinner than it should. What happened to it?"
"That's irrelevant," Yan Xiu replied calmly. "I'm here to sell it, not explain its state. 100 contribution points."
Meng Wu Ya snorted, setting the core down with a thud. "100? For a first-rank Monster Core this size? Don't try to fleece me, boy. I'll give you 60, and that's being generous."
"100," Yan Xiu repeated, his tone unwavering.
Meng Wu Ya's eyes narrowed, his voice tinged with irritation. "70, and that's final!"
"90," Yan Xiu shot back, his calm demeanor frustratingly resolute.
"80!" Meng Wu Ya barked, his patience fraying.
Yan Xiu leaned in slightly, meeting the old man's sharp gaze. "85," he said, his voice steady and firm.
Meng Wu Ya froze, his fingers drumming on the counter as his lips pressed into a thin line. He glanced at the core, then at Yan Xiu, and back at the core. Finally, with a heavy sigh and a muttered curse under his breath, he threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Fine! 85!" he growled, snatching the core and tossing a contribution points token across the counter. "But let me tell you, boy, you're bleeding me dry!"
Yan Xiu smirked faintly, pocketing the token. "A pleasure doing business, Treasurer Meng."
Meng Wu Ya huffed, already turning his attention back to his ledger. "Get out of here before I change my mind," he muttered, though a small grin played at the corner of his lips.
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Yan Xiu left the treasury with a light step, his plan progressing smoothly. As he approached the exit, a figure hurried in, brushing against his shoulder.
The man who had bumped into him was young, likely around Yan Xiu's age. His black hair was untamed, framing a lean yet robust face with sharp features. His clothes were plain and unremarkable, the simple garb of an outer disciple, yet he carried himself with an air of unshakable calm, as though the weight of the world was his to bear.
"Sorry about that," the young man said casually, his tone polite but distant. He didn't linger, his steps purposeful as he headed straight for Meng Wu Ya.
The moment their shoulders touched, Yan Xiu froze. His body locked in place, every muscle rigid as an unexplainable rage surged through him. His blood roared, his heart pounding violently against his ribs. It was as though his very essence was screaming in defiance of the man who had just passed him.
The world around him seemed to blur, his vision tinged red. Yan Xiu clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled against the seething fury boiling within him. It was irrational, consuming, and utterly incomprehensible.
'Why?' he thought, his breathing ragged. 'Why do I feel this way? Who… who is he?'
His gaze snapped to the young man, who was now speaking to Meng Wu Ya. The sight of him only fanned the flames of anger, though Yan Xiu couldn't fathom the reason. He didn't know this person. He had no memory of him. And yet, his entire being seemed to reject his very existence.
Yan Xiu took a shaky step back, forcing himself to calm down. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to steady his breathing.
'I can't lose control,' he thought, clenching his teeth. 'Not here. Not now.'
The young man didn't glance back, oblivious to the storm he had left in his wake.
'Who is he… and why does my soul hate him so much?'
He took a deep breath, forcing the anger into submission. 'Maybe… maybe this has something to do with the original Yan Xiu.'
The thought gave him pause. He still didn't fully understand how his soul had merged with this body, nor how much of its past lingered within him. Could this young man have been someone who bullied or wronged Yan Xiu in the past? The fragmented memories of his former life offered no answers, only more questions.
Determined to find clarity, Yan Xiu took a step forward, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Hey, you," he called out.
The boy turned, his sharp eyes meeting Yan Xiu's with faint curiosity. "Yes?"
Yan Xiu stopped a few paces away, his fists tightening at his sides as he buried the anger simmering beneath his calm facade. "Do you… perhaps know me?"
The boy raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful as he studied Yan Xiu for a moment. "No," he said finally, his tone flat. "Should I?"
The words hit Yan Xiu harder than he expected. The answer was logical, even predictable, but it didn't quell the storm inside him. If this boy truly didn't recognize him, then where was this animosity coming from?
Yan Xiu nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he fought to maintain his composure. "No, I suppose not," he said. "I must have mistaken you for someone else."
The boy gave a small shrug, as though the matter held little importance to him. "It happens," he said simply, before turning back to Meng Wu Ya and resuming their discussion.
Yan Xiu stood rooted in place, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and unease. The rage had subsided to a simmer, but the questions remained. What was it about this boy that had triggered such a visceral reaction?
He took a deep breath and turned away, walking toward the treasury's exit. 'If he doesn't know me, then why do I feel this way?' he thought, his mind racing. 'Is it the lingering resentment of the original Yan Xiu… or something else entirely?'
Even as he stepped out into the fresh air, the encounter lingered in his thoughts. One thing was certain—this boy was no ordinary person, and whatever connection they had, it would not be easily forgotten.
To be continued...
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Also, I have a question. Would you guys like for the MC to get the Demonic Mystic Tome or should I leave that for Yang Kai?
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