Chapter 159 - 4-9

004 Research

To an extent, I have an idea what kind of world this was… but again, I am not big on Xianxia.

Morning arrived, casting golden light over the city and washing away the lingering coolness of the night. The air carried the rich aroma of sizzling street food, freshly brewed tea, and the faint traces of incense. The once-quiet streets had transformed into a sea of movement, alive with the voices of merchants, travelers, and cultivators alike.

Silk banners fluttered overhead as vendors called out their wares—embroidered robes woven with dragon motifs, charms said to ward off calamity, and rare medicinal ingredients promising breakthroughs in cultivation. The melodies of guqins and pipas wove through the air, mingling with the lively chatter of the crowd.

Among them walked nobles clad in flowing brocades, their steps unhurried beneath the shade of servants' parasols. Cultivators, some in resplendent sect robes and others in humble travel attire, moved with quiet confidence, weapons resting at their backs. Common folk wove through the throng, laughing children darting between their legs, clutching paper lanterns shaped like mythical beasts.

I took my time, observing. A festival of this scale wasn't just a celebration—it was an opportunity. With so many gathered here, knowledge flowed as freely as wine. If there were secrets to be uncovered, whispers of distant sects or forgotten legacies, they would surface in a place like this.

Still, my mind drifted back to Liang Na.

She had called me a junior in cultivation, which meant she had misjudged my strength. That was good. 

To be fair, it wasn't entirely her fault. My abilities didn't rely on qi—the essence by which cultivators measured one another's prowess. To them, I likely seemed like a privileged young master with a respectable grasp of martial arts but nothing extraordinary.

That suited me just fine.

If others underestimated me, I could use it to my advantage—slipping past scrutiny or catching opponents off guard. But it also had its drawbacks. There were times when authority mattered, and if I was dismissed outright, maneuvering through certain situations would become far more difficult.

I sighed. Something to consider.

For now, my focus remained on gathering information. If anything in this city could grant me insight—a clue to navigating this unfamiliar world—it would be buried somewhere within the festival's chaos.

I strolled through the streets, blending into the crowd as I listened.

Near a teahouse, a group of young scholars admired the city's architecture.

"This is my first time in Yellow Dragon City," one said, adjusting the jade hairpin in his neatly bound hair. "The craftsmanship here is unparalleled. Even the capital cannot compare."

Another nodded. "The artisans are directly sponsored by the City Lord's family. It is said they recruit talent from all corners of the continent."

Nearby, a woman in a traveling cloak paused at a vendor's stall, inspecting a collection of finely painted fans. As she ran her fingers over the delicate patterns, she hummed thoughtfully.

"I hear the festival is grander than usual this year," she mused. "The City Lord must be trying to impress someone."

The vendor, an elderly man with a long white beard, chuckled. "You're not wrong, miss. Cultivators from major sects have already arrived. Some say a great opportunity awaits in the city—though what form it takes, no one knows."

A great opportunity?

A few paces ahead, two young men in traveling garb huddled over bowls of steaming noodles, speaking in hushed yet eager tones.

"I heard the auction house will be displaying an ancient artifact this time," one said between bites. "Something tied to a sect that vanished centuries ago."

His companion scoffed. "You believe every rumor you hear. What are the chances of that being true?"

"I don't know, but a friend of mine saw elders from the Cloud Mist Sect arrive last night. They wouldn't come all this way for nothing."

I frowned slightly.

That was the second time I'd heard mention of something beyond the festival itself drawing cultivators to the city. A mere coincidence?

Or was this the lead I had been searching for?

I continued my stroll, filing away every scrap of information.

At the very least, I now understood that Yellow Dragon City was no ordinary settlement. It was a convergence point—where the influential and the ambitious crossed paths. That meant ignorance was not a luxury I could afford.

If I wished to carve a place for myself in this world, I needed knowledge. Of cultivation, of sects and their hierarchies, of power and the subtle ways it shifted hands.

A breakthrough would come soon enough.

For now, I needed only to keep my eyes open.

And, as if the heavens wished to test my resolve, my first real lesson came in the least expected way.

Not through careful study. Not through patient observation.

No—fate, ever amused at my expense, delivered my opportunity in the form of a robbery.

The alley was dimly lit, far removed from the festival's brilliance. The scent of damp wood and aged stone filled the air. Behind me, the distant hum of merriment continued as if the world beyond this narrow passage was untouched by what was about to unfold.

Before me stood a figure clad in ragged garments, a dark cloth obscuring their face. Their eyes—sharp, glinting with hostility—locked onto me with the keen focus of a predator.

A knife quivered on the wall beside me, its blade buried deep into the brick.

A casual throw? Hardly. A strike like that belonged to one who had stepped onto the path of cultivation.

I exhaled slowly. This wasn't quite how I expected to gain insight into this world, but I wasn't about to complain. If nothing else, I wouldn't feel guilty about using this as a lesson.

And, if the heavens were kind, perhaps I could even help rehabilitate this fool.

The bandit rolled their shoulders, stepping closer. "Tch. You're slow to react, Young Master. Most would already be on their knees, begging."

I kept my expression neutral. "And what exactly am I supposed to beg for?"

"Your life, of course." A hand tapped the hilt of another knife. "Strip. Leave your robes, your valuables, your storage ring. Do so, and I might just let you walk away."

Straight to the point. Efficient, if nothing else.

I folded my arms. "Let me understand this correctly. You want me to strip, surrender all that I own, and then you will consider sparing my life?"

The bandit grinned beneath the mask. "That's the idea."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Huh. Interesting."

And then—

I vanished.

For an instant, the world blurred. The next, I stood behind them.

Flash Step. A simple movement technique, but enough to remind those weaker than me of their place.

The bandit stiffened, instincts screaming a warning, but it was already too late.

Thud.

A single push sent them stumbling forward, nearly slamming into the dead-end wall of the alley. I heard the sharp intake of breath—the moment panic began to take hold.

Before they could fully turn, I leaned in, repeating their own words back to them.

"Strip." My voice was low, measured. "Surrender your valuables, your storage ring, and perhaps—just perhaps—I will spare you."

The bandit froze.

Then, to my utter disbelief—

They actually started stripping.

I blinked. Wait. What?

Hands trembling, they fumbled with their ragged clothing. Their breath hitched, body taut with fear.

I had meant it as a lesson, a way to flip the script and return the humiliation they had intended for me. But the sheer terror in their reaction… there was no bravado, no defiance—only desperation.

This world must be a truly wretched place.

"P-please, Senior!" the bandit cried, suddenly dropping to their knees. "I—I have no treasures! No storage ring! I was just trying to survive! Spare me, and I will do anything! Anything!"

I barely processed their words before realizing something else.

She.

Now that I was looking, the signs were obvious. Beneath the layers of grime and oversized clothing, her frame was lean but not without its curves. Her voice, though roughened by hardship, carried a distinctly feminine lilt. The balaclava and baggy garments had concealed it well, but there was no mistaking it now.

And there she was, kowtowing before me, forehead pressed against the cold, filthy stone.

I exhaled slowly.

Well.

Now I felt like an absolute bastard.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my temple. This was not how I had imagined this would go.

I had been expecting some low-level thug—someone I could rough up a little, pry for information, and leave in a crumpled heap. A simple, straightforward bandit interrogation.

Instead, I had cornered what looked like a half-starved woman, trembling on the ground like a stray dog expecting to be kicked.

I glanced at her again, taking in the full picture.

Thin. Not quite skeletal, but malnourished enough that it was obvious even through the layers of ragged clothing. Her arms were wrapped in old, tattered bandages, and the skin that peeked through was rough and calloused—the kind that came from too many fights and too little rest.

Was this really a cultivator?

If she was, she was a weak one. Perhaps she had some minor cultivation—just enough to sharpen her reflexes and enhance her body—but compared to someone like Liang Na, she might as well have been a commoner.

Just my luck.

I exhaled through my nose. "No need to disrobe."

She flinched at my voice, but after a pause, she slowly lifted her head.

"Get up," I said.

Hesitation flickered across her face before she obeyed, pushing herself up onto her knees. Her hands remained clasped together in silent pleading, her breathing still uneven.

"What's your name?" I asked.

Her head remained bowed, but she answered quickly, her voice small. "Gu Jie."

I sighed again.

This is going to be a pain.

Still… she was the best source of information I had.

005 Interrogation

With a flick of my wrist, I retrieved a pair of plush, cushioned chairs from my Item Box, letting them appear as if by magic. Gu Jie's eyes widened in shock, and I had to admit, her reaction was satisfying.

Who in their right mind would waste storage space on furniture?

Well, I would.

Back in Lost Legends Online, I had planned to sell looted furnishings for quick cash… when the accident suddenly occurred. The game didn't care if you stripped a dungeon down to its last crate, barrel, or decorative rug. If something wasn't nailed down? Mine. If an entire throne room could be hauled away? Also mine. Unfortunately, my PC exploded, and now I was stuck in this xianxia world with enough furniture to open a teahouse.

Gu Jie, now properly clothed, lowered herself onto the chair with stiff hesitation, like she wasn't used to such comfort. I settled into my own seat, exhaling as I leaned back.

Time for answers.

I laced my fingers together, my expression calm and unreadable. "Let's start with the obvious. Why turn to banditry?"

Gu Jie flinched, fists clenching in her lap. "...I needed resources," she muttered.

"That's vague." I tapped a finger against the armrest. "What kind of resources?"

"Food. Medicine. Qi-nourishing herbs." Her voice was quiet. "I have no sect. No patrons. No one to rely on. I—" She exhaled sharply, shoulders sagging. "I have nothing."

A rogue cultivator, then. No wonder she was this desperate. Most sect-trained cultivators wouldn't be this malnourished. That wouldn't just make sense.

"Fine," I said. "What's your cultivation level?"

She hesitated, then answered, "Martial Tempering Realm. First Star, Late-Stage."

That meant absolutely nothing to me.

I kept my expression neutral. "And that means…?"

She gave me a flat look. "It means I'm in the first major realm of cultivation."

"Right. And there are how many realms?"

Gu Jie frowned but still answered. "There are eleven major realms in total. But I only know the first four. They're called the Four Great Attributes."

I nodded for her to continue.

"At the lowest is the Martial Tempering Realm," she explained. "The foundation. The body is strengthened—muscles, bones, stamina, everything. Before one can cultivate the mind, they must first temper the flesh."

"And the next?"

"The Mind Enlightenment Realm," she said. "A cultivator at this stage refines their mental strength and sharpens perception. Their senses, intuition, and ability to manipulate qi improve greatly."

I barely stopped myself from grimacing. The thought of fighting telepaths or warriors with premonition was… troubling.

Gu Jie continued, oblivious to my mild existential crisis.

"Then comes the Will Reinforcement Realm. This is when a cultivator tempers their intent, making their techniques far more powerful. A person with an indomitable will can suppress weaker cultivators just by existing near them."

That sounded like a nightmare to deal with.

"And the last one you know?"

"The Spirit Mystery Realm. This is when a cultivator begins touching upon the deeper mysteries of the Dao. Their qi refines further, and they gain abilities beyond mortal comprehension. Some say this is where true cultivation begins."

I let out a slow breath, mentally digesting everything she had just said.

Apparently, each realm was divided into nine Stars, which were further broken into Early, Mid, and Late stages.

Let me break that down:

Martial Tempering Realm→ Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)Mind Enlightenment Realm→ Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)Will Reinforcement Realm→ Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)Spirit Mystery Realm→ Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)And these were just the first four realms—out of eleven.

My lips twitched.

I barely kept my poker face intact.

How the hell did anyone keep track of this? Higher realms probably had even more ridiculous subdivisions. At this point, why not just create a numbered ranking system instead of playing connect-the-dots with Stars and Stages?

Gu Jie studied me, likely expecting some grand reaction. Instead, I exhaled calmly, keeping my expression a picture of polite understanding.

"Alright," I said evenly. "That makes sense."

(It didn't. But I wasn't about to admit that.)

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "So… let's say I meet someone who's three Stars higher than me. How much stronger would they be?"

Gu Jie looked at me as if I had asked whether water was wet.

"That depends," she said carefully. "A three-Star difference within the same realm might be manageable. But if they're in a higher realm entirely, you'd be like an ant trying to fight a mountain."

I did not like that comparison.

"And let me guess," I sighed. "There are geniuses who can fight people several realms above them."

Gu Jie nodded. "It's rare, but it happens. Some people are born with heaven-defying talent. Others inherit powerful legacies or possess rare physiques that give them an overwhelming edge. Those people… they don't follow normal logic."

Of course, they don't. Because this was a xianxia world, and nothing could ever be simple.

I leaned back in my chair, processing what I had learned.

Cultivation is absurdly complicated.I have no idea what my own "realm" is.Some people can straight-up ignore this system and break reality anyway.Wonderful. Just wonderful.

I exhaled slowly, then fixed Gu Jie with a measured look.

"Alright," I said. "One last question."

She tensed. "Yes, Senior?"

"Where's the best place to find information on cultivation?"

Gu Jie hesitated before answering. "...If you seek the best resources, the finest manuals, the most profound knowledge—you'll need to go to a major sect, an ancient clan, or a powerful city library."

I hummed. "And in this city?"

She bit her lip. "The Golden Sun Pavilion. It's the grandest library in Yellow Dragon City. But…" She hesitated. "It is not open to just anyone."

Of course, it wasn't.

I sighed, already feeling a headache forming.

"Figures."

Looks like I had a new destination.

I leaned forward, studying Gu Jie's expression. "What do I need to do to enter the Golden Sun Pavilion?"

Gu Jie hesitated. "You'd need the City Governor's permission."

I resisted the urge to groan. Of course, it wouldn't be simple.

Going through the City Governor could mean a lot of things—political entanglements, drawing attention to myself, or worse, getting caught up with the powerful sects gathering in the city. I wasn't sure if that was a risk I was ready to take yet.

For now, I needed to understand my own situation first.

I shifted gears. "Alright. Based on your perception, what cultivation realm do you think I'm at?"

Gu Jie's lips pressed together. She studied me carefully, as if weighing her words. "Beyond the Fourth Realm, most likely."

That was… concerning.

I tapped my fingers against the chair's armrest. "Use your qi sense—if that's even a thing—to determine my realm."

Gu Jie frowned. "Senior, why do you ask such strange questions?" She hesitated, then cautiously continued, "It's as if you're testing my understanding of cultivation."

I said nothing, letting her work through her own thoughts.

After a pause, she muttered, "Is this because of your movement technique? That must be it…"

I narrowed my eyes. "Explain."

Gu Jie swallowed and lowered her head slightly, as if afraid to misspeak. "That… step you took earlier, Senior. That was what broke me. The moment you moved, I knew I had no chance. I… I sincerely have no idea what realm you stand in, only that it is far beyond my reach." She clenched her fists. "I only wish to be spared."

So that was why she was so submissive. From her perspective, I was some high-level cultivator with unfathomable strength, toying with her for amusement or hidden intent.

The impression my Flash Step left was so overwhelming that she'd rather strip than risk my wrath.

Had she seen a similar technique before?

I remained silent.

Gu Jie hesitated, then spoke again. "But… your question is strange, Senior. It must be a test."

I raised a brow. "And why is that?"

"Because only those in the Second Realm gain access to something like Qi Sense."

I schooled my expression, keeping my thoughts hidden behind a brooding look. That was… unexpected.

The question about qi sense had been a shot in the dark, but now I had confirmation that cultivators had a universal method of gauging power levels. That meant if I met someone more experienced, they'd try to sense my qi—and find nothing.

That alone was bad enough.

But in another extreme, they might find something else.

Ugh.

If they detected my mana instead, what would they think? Would they assume I was some strange anomaly and try to capture me for study? Dissect me? Or worse—consider my mana some unnatural, forbidden force and decide to eliminate me on the spot?

…Yeah. That would be a problem.

Just as this world functioned on the universal constant of qi, the world of Lost Legends operated on mana. If the two weren't compatible—or worse, if I was seen as something outside the natural order—I'd be in serious trouble.

I resisted the urge to rub my temples. One wrong move, and I'd be labeled an anomaly.

No. I couldn't let that happen.

For now, I had to act like someone too powerful to be questioned. Let them believe what they wanted.

I leaned back into my chair, mind already moving ahead. If Flash Step was something only high-level cultivators could do, then I could use that as a bluff. It didn't matter whether I actually had qi—what mattered was that others believed I did.

And more than that, I needed to stay under the radar.

If people started digging into my origins, they might realize something wasn't right. If someone strong enough actually tested me, they might find nothing—no qi, no cultivation base, just… me.

That was the real worst-case scenario.

Being labeled an aberration and hunted down wasn't how I planned to end up.

No, I had to be careful. Careful in what I revealed, careful in how I moved. If I played my cards right, I could keep people at arm's length while still using their assumptions to my advantage.

"Good answer," I said at last.

Gu Jie exhaled a quiet breath of relief, clearly believing she had passed whatever test she thought I was giving her.

I gazed toward the sky, thoughts swirling.

If I wanted real answers, I had to enter the Golden Sun Pavilion. And for that, I needed to make a choice.

But first, I had to deal with this bandit.

I turned back to Gu Jie, studying her carefully. "Have you ever harmed another person with ill intent?"

Her eyes flickered with surprise.

I activated Divine Sense.

It was one of those skills that felt a little unfair back in LLO. . Originally meant as a scouting ability, it doubled as a lie detector when used correctly. The developers had a twisted sense of humor, punishing players for everything from theft to bad quest decisions. This was one of those skills that could make or break negotiations.

Gu Jie hesitated, then answered. "No."

Divine Sense confirmed the truth.

I nodded. "Good. You didn't lie."

She flinched.

Useful reaction. A little fear would keep her honest.

I leaned forward, tapping my fingers against the chair's armrest. "Now, tell me your story."

Gu Jie swallowed hard. She understood this was a trial—a test to decide whether she lived or died.

Her eyes grew misty.

And then, she spilled everything.

She had been an orphan, taken as a child by a demonic cultivator. Raised in a world of shadows, she was forced to cultivate a twisted technique that warped her body and left lasting damage. It was no choice. It was a sentence.

Under cruel guidance, she climbed to the Third Realm—Will Reinforcement.

And then, her master stole her life force.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips as she recounted how her so-called master drained her cultivation, reducing her to the First Realm—crippling her progress, leaving her weaker than before.

She had barely escaped with her life.

She had been running ever since.

No wonder she looked so malnourished. The damage wasn't just starvation—it was deep-rooted, a wound that went beyond the physical.

Her voice cracked slightly as she finished, "I had no choice… I just needed to survive."

Silence stretched between us.

I studied her.

Then I sighed, rubbing my temple.

Gu Jie's story was tragic, but it wasn't unique. This world was brutal—those with power took what they wanted, and those without suffered. That much was already clear.

In a way, there was a smidgen of truth in tropes.

I tapped my fingers against the armrest of my chair, lost in thought.

I couldn't ignore her suffering.

And honestly? I hadn't had many chances to test my more magical abilities. I might as well take advantage of this one.

I leaned forward slightly, exhaling.

Time to test something.

Raising my hand, I pointed a single finger at Gu Jie.

"Divine Word: Life."

The air trembled.

Golden energy coalesced around her, flickering like sacred fire. Vitality surged within her, her body instinctively responding to the spell.

Gu Jie gasped as emerald and golden veins pulsed beneath her skin, raw life energy spreading through her frail frame. Her hollow cheeks gained color, her limbs filled out, and the sickly pallor that clung to her faded into something… whole. Stronger. Alive.

She trembled, staring at her hands in disbelief.

The Divine Word series in Lost Legends Online was one of the most powerful single-target magic abilities in the game. Each word was absolute, dictating a fundamental force that either empowered or crippled.

Divine Word: Life was a buff spell.

In game terms, it granted a second health bar atop the original, alongside a powerful regeneration effect. A spell that could turn the tide of a losing battle—or, in this case, restore a broken person.

Gu Jie's breath hitched. "W-what… what did you just do to me?" Her voice was weak. Afraid.

I didn't answer immediately.

Instead, I stood, letting the weight of my actions settle in the air.

With a flick of my wrist, the chairs vanished into my Item Box, as smoothly as they had appeared.

Then, meeting her wide-eyed gaze, I spoke evenly:

"This was a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. I pray you'll live a better life from now on."

Gu Jie looked like she didn't know whether to cry or kowtow.

Internally?

I was kind of pleased with myself.

Damn, I sound like a fine paladin.

Chapter 006 The Gathering Storm

Gu Jie dropped to one knee so suddenly that, for a moment, I thought she had collapsed. But no—her posture was deliberate, her hands clenched into fists, and her eyes burned with unwavering resolve.

"Please allow me to follow you!" she declared, voice steady despite its tremor. "I may be unworthy, but I swear upon my life—I will serve you with all that I am."

I frowned.

Not this again.

NPCs were easy to dismiss. People? Real people? Not so much.

"You owe me nothing," I said flatly. "Your life is your own. Do with it as you will, but I have no need for followers."

I turned to leave.

But something latched onto my leg.

I halted mid-step, slowly lowering my gaze.

Gu Jie was clinging to me.

I arched a brow. She flinched under my stare but refused to let go.

Was this some xianxia nonsense? Fate weaving a companion into my path? If so, the heavens could shove it.

…That being said, having someone familiar with this world wouldn't be the worst idea. My understanding of cultivation was spotty at best, and relying on Earth's logic in a world like this would likely get me killed.

Hmmm.

Reforming a bandit seemed like a decent cause. No harm in testing the waters.

I exhaled. "Fine. If you wish to follow me, I won't stop you."

Her grip tightened. "I swear it, Senior!"

I crossed my arms. "Then you'll have to pass a test."

She blinked. "A… test?"

I retrieved a handful of gold coins from my sleeve. Unlike in Lost Legends Online, where currency existed in a digital balance, here it had merged into my Item Box as physical gold.

Gu Jie's eyes widened as she stared at the coins.

I tossed them to her. She caught them with trembling hands, her expression shifting from awe to confusion.

"Your test is simple," I said. "Exchange this gold for local currency and meet me back here by dusk."

She turned the coin over in her fingers, examining every detail. Then, in a classic move, she bit down on it.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Senior, this is too valuable," she said, her voice laced with disbelief. "Judging by the carving, it may have historical worth as well."

She hesitated before handing most of the coins back, keeping only three. As if holding any more would bring calamity upon her.

I raised a brow. "And if I asked you to exchange all of it?"

She immediately tensed, staring at the coins in deep thought.

"…This is a trick question," she muttered. Then, as if testing something, she channeled a wisp of spiritual energy into her jaw and bit down again.

The gold didn't bend. Didn't crack.

Her eyes widened. "I see! This isn't ordinary gold." She clenched her fists, realization dawning. "If I try to sell too much of it at once, I might bring disaster upon myself. But for someone like you, Senior, such matters are mere trifles."

So she had some sense. Good.

Lost Legends Online's gold coins weren't simple currency—they were forged from a special alloy, an unyielding blend of mithril, steel, and black gold. A stable in-game economy had demanded indestructible coinage. At least, lore-wise…

Gu Jie took a steady breath, determination returning to her gaze.

"I will complete this task and prove myself, Senior!"

Without another word, she spun on her heel and disappeared into the bustling streets.

I blinked.

Well. That was fast.

I hadn't even acknowledged Gu Jie as my follower yet, and she was already proving her worth.

Exhaling, I rolled my shoulders, stretching as I took in my surroundings. Now that the matter with Gu Jie was settled—at least for now—I had time to kill.

The streets were alive with festival energy. Colorful lanterns swayed above wooden stalls, casting a warm glow over the marketplace. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling skewers, steamed buns, and spiced wine. Performers weaved through the crowd, silk sleeves billowing as they twirled to the beat of drums and flutes.

It was… a lot.

In Lost Legends Online, I had avoided crowded hubs when possible. Too many people meant too much noise, too many eyes watching, and too many chances of getting dragged into some quest I wanted no part of.

But here?

There was no minimap, no auction house menu, no convenient fast travel system. If I wanted to survive in this world, I had to live in it. I had to learn its rules, not just treat it like another game.

It would be difficult to curb bad habits though…

The more time I spent here, the more I adjusted to its quirks—some more baffling than others.

One of the strangest was the language.

I shouldn't have been able to understand or speak it, yet the words came effortlessly. The grammar aligned with my thoughts. The scripts on banners and scrolls made perfect sense. At first, I assumed it was some kind of transmigration perk, but after paying closer attention, I noticed something odd. While I understood the language itself, I had to actively think about certain idioms and phrases. It was as if my brain had absorbed the structure, but not the cultural nuances.

I suspected my Sub-class: Linguist had something to do with it.

In Lost Legends Online, Sub-classes weren't about direct combat or flashy abilities. They provided long-term benefits—practical skills that supplemented a player's main class. Blacksmiths forged weapons. Tailors crafted enchanted robes. Chefs prepared meals that granted buffs.

Linguist fell under the historian-type professions, though that didn't mean I was a scholar or some well-read sage. I didn't like studying lore for real. People tended to assume that because my character could decipher lost texts, I must also know the histories behind them. That wasn't how it worked.

Linguists had an innate grasp of languages—spoken, written, even forgotten ones from ancient civilizations. I could translate texts, but understanding their deeper meaning still required study. At best, I was a high-speed translation device with a slight buff to speech.

I hadn't thought much about it before, but considering how quickly I was adapting to this world's language, it made sense.

Was this purely the result of Linguist? Or did my Intelligence stat play a role? It wasn't my highest attribute, but it still far surpassed that of an ordinary human. A superhuman memory likely accelerated my learning, allowing me to pick up the finer details faster than most.

Still, speaking a language I had never studied in my life was... unsettling.

I shook my head. No point dwelling on it. Whether this was a gift from transmigration or a hidden perk of my Sub-class, I wasn't about to complain.

I kept walking.

The festival's noise and warmth gradually gave way to something else—an undercurrent of tension. The laughter and music still filled the air, but something had shifted. The energy in the streets buzzed with anticipation. Whispers spread like wildfire.

I followed the murmurs, letting my feet carry me down familiar paths.

It wasn't long before I reached the abandoned park where I had tested my stats the night before.

Only—it wasn't abandoned anymore.

The open field had become a gathering place, a landing zone for the powerful.

The city was abuzz with excitement as cultivators arrived in droves.

They descended from the skies on flying swords, golden chariots, drifting leaves, and mist-wreathed clouds. Some rode upon giant cranes or spirit beasts, their robes adorned with the insignias of great sects.

The air crackled with spiritual pressure.

Crowds gathered along the perimeter, careful to keep their distance. The people of Yellow Dragon City understood what an event like this meant. When powerful cultivators descended, it was best to stay out of their way.

Yellow Dragon soldiers formed a defensive line, their polished armor gleaming under the morning sun. They stood tall, spears in hand, ensuring that no reckless onlookers disrupted the arrivals.

At the center of it all stood Enforcer Liang Na.

Clad in her official uniform, she greeted the incoming sect members with a calm, measured respect. A stark contrast to the condescension she had shown me last night. But of course, these weren't ordinary travelers.

These were the big three sects of the region.

I remained among the spectators, doing my best to blend in. Around me, commoners, free warriors, and independent cultivators whispered in hushed tones, their voices brimming with speculation.

"That's the Cloud Mist Sect's crest! I never thought I'd see them in person!"

"Look at their robes! So pristine, so elegant… They must be carrying artifacts worth a fortune."

Huh? I thought they had already arrived. Didn't the rumors say they were here yesterday?

The Cloud Mist Sect was renowned for their mastery of illusions and mist techniques. Their members moved like drifting fog, their footsteps silent as they disembarked from a silver cloud. Their leader, an elderly man with a long white beard, exchanged a few words with Liang Na before being escorted into the city.

Nearby, two free warriors watched with arms crossed, their gazes sharp.

"Hmph. I'd recognize that sword anywhere. That's from the Sword Canopy Sect."

"So they sent their elites this time. Those aren't outer disciples—they must be inner sect members at the very least."

The Sword Canopy Sect. A name synonymous with relentless swordplay and terrifying formations. Their disciples arrived atop floating blades, their postures straight, their expressions unreadable. Unlike the Cloud Mist Sect, they wasted no time on pleasantries. Their presence alone was a statement.

Then came the final group.

The moment they descended, even the boldest onlookers stepped back.

"Isolation Path Sect…" someone muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Damn. I never thought they'd show up here."

"Don't make eye contact. They're ruthless."

The Isolation Path Sect. Unlike the Cloud Mist Sect's refinement or the Sword Canopy Sect's discipline, these cultivators carried an oppressive, almost unnatural presence. Their robes, deep midnight black, were embroidered with sigils that seemed to shift when one looked at them too long. They arrived on dark clouds, and the temperature around them seemed to drop.

Where the Cloud Mist Sect moved like scholars and the Sword Canopy Sect like warriors, these cultivators moved like phantoms. Silent. Cold. Unfathomable.

One of their disciples turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd.

For the briefest second, I felt something probe my presence—a spiritual sense.

I immediately suppressed my energy. Or rather, I let my lack of qi make me seem utterly insignificant. Simply put, I used my Dexterity stat to force myself looking like a slouch.

The disciple's eyes lingered, then moved on.

That was close.

But the arrivals weren't over yet.

A new stir rippled through the crowd.

Not cultivators on flying artifacts this time, but grand carriages drawn by rare spirit beasts. Their arrival was just as commanding—perhaps even more so.

These were not sect disciples.

They were the heirs of the Seven Grand Clans.

Unlike sect cultivators, who dedicated themselves solely to the path of cultivation, clan heirs were something else entirely. They were not just warriors, but rulers, strategists, and future powerhouses in their own right. Where sect disciples honed their blades, these people honed their influence.

The first to arrive was a tall young man with sharp features, dressed in deep blue robes embroidered with a road stretching into the horizon.

A murmur spread through the spectators.

"That's Young Master Lu Gao of the Lu Clan!"

The Lu Clan. A name tied to an unwavering philosophy:

"The road is endless, and so is our ambition."

Merchants, warriors, diplomats—they were known for expanding their reach across the continent, their influence growing wherever their roads were built. To some, they were the lifeblood of trade and prosperity. To others, they were conquerors, always moving forward, never looking back.

Lu Gao himself carried that presence. He moved like a man who had never once hesitated in his life. His steps were firm, his gaze cold and assessing.

A few commoners instinctively lowered their heads, afraid to draw his attention.

He did not travel alone.

Behind him, a procession of Lu Clan cultivators followed, each one clad in blue and gold, each one carrying themselves with quiet authority. They did not walk like an extended family. They walked like an army.

"They say the Lu Clan never settles," someone whispered. "Wherever they go, they build roads. And through those roads, they claim the land itself."

"A clan that expands without stopping… terrifying."

I frowned slightly.

Lu Gao wasn't just strong—he was dangerous.

Not because of his cultivation level, but because of how he carried himself. The confidence. The sheer lack of hesitation. The way he looked at everything as if it already belonged to him.

I had met people like him before.

People who never lost.

And the thing about those kinds of people?

They never considered the possibility of losing.

Which, in a xianxia setting, meant that if you beat them too badly, they'd just call their fathers, grandfathers, and eventually their ancestors to get revenge.

Annoying.

For some reason, I didn't like Lu Gao already.

It wasn't rational. He hadn't done anything to me. Hell, he probably didn't even know I existed. Yet, the mere sight of him—his arrogance, his unshaken confidence—rubbed me the wrong way.

What was this unreasonable disdain inside me?

Weird…

I frowned, watching him for a moment longer before my thoughts drifted.

Lu Clan… Road?

Wait. Lu as in 路—the character for "road."

I almost scoffed aloud. So they took their whole "unstoppable march forward" theme that seriously, huh? It was almost funny. If I had a sect or clan, I wouldn't name it something so on-the-nose. It was like calling a fire sect the "Burning Flame Sect" or a sword sect the "Sharp Blade Clan."

…Actually, now that I thought about it, xianxia sects did do that a lot.

I shook my head and turned my attention to the next wave of arrivals.

Lu Gao might have been the first, but he wasn't the only young heir to make an appearance. One after another, more carriages and processions entered the city, each carrying the banners of the great clans.

The biggest clans around, apparently.

First came the Kang Clan, also known as the Fighting Clan. Their members carried themselves with the air of seasoned warriors, their crimson robes emblazoned with the image of a roaring tiger. They weren't as refined as the sect cultivators, but there was an undeniable strength in their every step.

"They say a single Kang warrior can fight three cultivators of the same realm," someone whispered nearby.

"Hah, of course! They train like madmen from childhood. Battle is their cultivation."

If the Lu Clan were conquerors, the Kang Clan were warlords.

Next came the Xun Clan, the Seeker Clan. Their members wore deep green, their robes stitched with spiraling cloud-like motifs. Unlike the Kangs, they were leaner, their eyes sharp, scanning their surroundings with an unsettling focus.

"The Xun Clan specializes in tracking and intelligence gathering," a merchant murmured to his companion. "They say there's no hiding from them."

"No wonder people hire them for assassination work."

I made a mental note not to cross them.

Then came the Feng Clan, the Wind Clan. They arrived atop gliding hawks, their robes fluttering in the breeze. Their emblem—a flowing gust of wind—matched their movement. They barely seemed to touch the ground as they dismounted.

"The Feng Clan controls the largest fleet of flying ships," another onlooker said in awe. "They're the reason merchants can cross vast distances so quickly."

A logistics empire, then. I could respect that.

After them, the Bai Clan, the White Clan, and the Hei Clan, the Black Clan, arrived almost simultaneously. Two sides of the same coin.

The Bai Clan, dressed in pristine white, gave off an aura of clarity and righteousness. Healers, exorcists, and scholars—at least on the surface.

Meanwhile, the Hei Clan's deep obsidian robes seemed to drink the surrounding light. Assassins? Spies? Something else? Either way, they carried themselves like people who knew more than they let on.

And finally—

"The Tian Clan, the Sky Clan, is here!" someone gasped.

This time, even the other clan members turned their heads.

Golden carriages descended from the heavens, carried by celestial beasts wreathed in divine light. The Tian Clan was different from the rest. They weren't just powerful—they were royalty. The closest thing this world had to a ruling family. 

Maybe? I couldn't tell… The people at least thought so…

Their young heirs stepped forward, dressed in flowing robes of blue and gold.

I let out a slow breath.

In just a short time, I had already learned a lot about this world. The sects, the clans, their power structures. But gathering information through eavesdropping and casual conversation was one thing.

Seeing it all in person?

That was something else entirely.

This world wasn't just some game map with scattered NPCs. It was alive. Moving. A place with its own rules, politics, and unspoken hierarchies.

And I was right in the middle of it.

I kept my head down and observed.

Because if I wanted to survive here, I needed to know exactly what kind of world I was dealing with.

And more importantly—

Who not to piss off.

Chapter 007 A Bard for a Day

The gathering of cultivators quickly lost its appeal. At first, watching them descend from the sky on flying swords, chariots, leaves, and clouds had been impressive, but the novelty faded fast. Their grand entrances earned hushed whispers and admiration, yet beneath all that spectacle, they were just more posturing elites.

I had no reason to care anymore beyond my interest.

So, I left.

The streets bustled with activity, a lively contrast to the stiff arrogance of the cultivators. As I wandered, a thought struck me—money. I had yet to grasp this world's economy, but staying broke wasn't an option. Gu Jie was supposed to handle funds, but it wouldn't hurt to earn some myself. Besides, I needed something to pass the time.

An idea took shape—something simple.

I pulled a wooden crate and a bowl from my Item Box and set them down in a busy thoroughfare. Then, hopping onto the crate, I cleared my throat.

"Honored guests and passersby, lend me your ears!"

If I were going to make money, why not as a bard?

Music was a universal language. That had been true in my old world, and I doubted this world was any different.

Back in Lost Legends Online, players could choose a main class and a sub-class. Sub-classes weren't for combat but instead focused on trade and knowledge. I had chosen Linguist—not out of scholarly interest, but because it made solving puzzles easier and gave me an edge in PvE.

Weird, right? After all, I loved PvP too much.

But the thing was sub-classes in LLO offered little to no edge when it came to direct combat.

The Linguist class granted the ability to understand any language, unlocking secret dialogues and ancient texts. It also improved speech, though it wasn't as persuasive as the Diplomat class. Most importantly, it had a Translation skill—one that let me seamlessly convert words between languages.

Which meant I could take songs from Earth and make them sound as if they belonged here.

I wasn't a Bard, but years of karaoke had given me enough confidence to hold a tune. And with the Linguist class's speech bonus? I could make it sound good.

Maybe?

Nah… it was a harmless experiment at worst…

Taking a deep breath, I let the murmurs of the crowd settle. Then—

I sang.

The melody drifted through the air, smooth and poetic, as if the song had always existed in this world's tongue. It was a classic from my past life—Freddie Mercury. If I were to do this, I was going to do it right.

At first, my voice cut through the noise like an unexpected breeze—soft, yet clear. A few heads turned, curious. Then, as I carried the melody with confidence, my voice swelled.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

The words flowed effortlessly, shaped to fit this world's language. The syllables landed with perfect cadence, as though the song had been born here.

People stopped.

First, a handful. Then, more.

A noblewoman paused mid-step, silk robes swaying as she tilted her head. A group of merchants near a tea stall leaned in. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve, pointing at me with wide-eyed wonder.

I continued, my voice steady, my pacing measured.

"Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low…"

The marketplace quieted, the melody wrapping around them. A man in tattered robes—perhaps a wandering cultivator—nodded along, arms crossed, lips twitching in approval. A young woman in the flowing garb of a minor sect swayed slightly, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Then, the applause began.

At first, a few claps—hesitant, unsure. But as the chorus built, as my voice climbed with the intensity of the song, the energy shifted. Excitement rippled through the crowd. Some clapped to the beat. Others grinned, their faces alight with delight.

For a moment, in a world of swords and sects, music reigned supreme.

Yep, this was fun.

A bit aimless, but fun.

And then, the real proof of their appreciation—

Clink.

A coin landed in my bowl. Then another. And another.

I stole a glance mid-song and nearly smirked. My little wooden bowl, once empty, was steadily filling with silver and copper coins. A generous noble tossed in a gold coin, his lips quirking in amusement. A grizzled mercenary followed suit, flipping a coin with practiced ease.

"Now this is entertainment," someone murmured.

"Who is he?" another asked.

"Some kind of wandering minstrel?"

"I've never heard this song before…"

"It's incredible."

I reached the climax of the song, pushing my voice to its limits. My Linguist speech bonus ensured my enunciation was crisp, every emotion laid bare in the melody. I wasn't a professional singer, but years of karaoke had trained me well enough to stay on pitch.

The final note lingered in the air, stretching just long enough to let the moment settle.

Silence.

Then—thunderous applause.

Cheers, claps, even a few whistles. People beamed at me, eyes bright with excitement. Some nodded in approval, while others murmured animatedly about the performance. My wooden bowl was now respectably full—a testament to the fact that, for all their swords and cultivation techniques, even people from a vastly different world appreciated good music.

I exhaled, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. Then, with a slight bow, I raised a hand for silence. The murmurs softened as the crowd leaned in, eager for what I would say next.

"Thank you for listening," I said smoothly, my voice carrying over the gathered people. "But credit where credit is due—this song is not my own."

A ripple of intrigue spread through the audience.

"This piece was composed by a legendary bard from a distant land—his name was Freddie Mercury." I let the name hang in the air, allowing the weight of it to settle. "Though he is no longer among us, his music lives on, transcending time and space."

Some nodded solemnly, as if paying respects to a fellow artist. Others simply clapped again, moved by the sentiment.

I chuckled to myself. If only they knew just how distant a land I meant.

I had long since accepted that I was an outsider in this world. The laws of reality here were different, and so were the people. Power was determined by cultivation, status by lineage. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to despair. What good would it do?

This wasn't a game anymore, but I still approached it like one. Like I said, it was difficult to curb bad habits. In the end, I could only move forward. Keep moving, keep adapting. Find the broken mechanics and exploit them. And, when things got overwhelming—find joy in the small victories.

Like turning a street performance into a profitable venture.

As the crowd dispersed, leaving behind their generous donations, another idea struck me.

Music was one way to captivate an audience, but it wasn't the only way. Next time, I wouldn't just sing—I'd tell a story.

Songs and tales both had power. And with my Linguist class, I could weave them seamlessly into this world's language.

Stepping down from the crate, I pocketed my hard-earned coin with a satisfied grin.

"That was fun," I murmured to myself.

I crouched down, scooped up the wooden bowl, and gave it a little shake. The clink-clink of silver and copper was music to my ears. Not a bad haul for an impromptu street performance.

With a flick of my wrist, I stashed the bowl, crate, and earnings into my Item Box. A relic from my time in Lost Legends Online—and far more useful in real life than I had ever imagined.

Now, I had money. And money meant I could finally eat properly.

The marketplace was still bustling. Stalls lined the streets, their colorful banners fluttering in the wind. The scent of roasted meats, spiced broths, and freshly baked buns filled the air, making my stomach growl in protest.

I took my time wandering past the vendors, watching as they skillfully worked their craft. A dumpling stand had a steady stream of customers, the cook deftly flipping steaming buns onto a tray. A noodle shop had a line stretching out the door, bowls of fragrant broth passed from hand to hand.

Eventually, I found a more traditional eatery—a simple wooden establishment with an open-air dining area. The smell of sizzling meat and frying garlic drifted from within.

Now this... this was the right choice.

Stepping inside, I found a seat by the window and waved over a server.

The moment my order was placed, I leaned back, letting my gaze wander over the eatery. It had a rustic charm—worn wooden tables, the chatter of travelers swapping tales, the rhythmic clack of chopsticks against bowls.

Soon, my food arrived.

A steaming bowl of braised pork noodles, the thick strands coated in a rich, savory broth. A side of pan-fried dumplings, their golden-brown exteriors crisp and glistening with oil. And to wash it all down, a cup of warm rice wine, its faint aroma carrying a subtle sweetness.

I wasted no time.

The first bite of noodles was divine. The broth—deep and flavorful—coated my tongue with its complex blend of soy, spices, and slow-cooked meat. The pork practically melted in my mouth, each bite a testament to hours of careful preparation.

The dumplings were just as satisfying. The moment I bit into one, hot juices burst forth, the crisp exterior giving way to the tender, well-seasoned filling.

A sip of rice wine. Warmth spread through my chest.

I exhaled, a satisfied sigh slipping past my lips.

"Damn," I muttered. "This is good."

It had been too long since I'd last enjoyed a meal like this.

Back in my past life, food had been an afterthought—a necessity rather than an experience. In Lost Legends Online, meals were nothing more than buffs, consumed for stat boosts rather than taste. But here? Here, food mattered. Of course, in a different context. In my case, I felt like I was filling my soul… sheesh… I missed home already.

Just as I was about to savor another bite, a familiar voice rang out from across the table.

"I finally found you!"

I looked up, chopsticks frozen mid-air.

Gu Jie plopped into the seat opposite me, yanking off her balaclava with a grin that practically radiated pride. Her sharp features were flushed with excitement as she dragged two heavy pouches onto the table.

They landed with a clink, heavy with coins.

"I finished the task, Senior!" she announced, chest puffed out.

I sighed. Of course.

Not even dusk yet, and I couldn't get through one meal in peace.

I set my chopsticks down, leveling her with a flat look. "You know, there's a time and place for business, and this"—I gestured at my half-eaten meal—"is neither."

Gu Jie's grin faltered. "Ah—right. My apologies, Senior! I didn't mean to disturb your meal."

She actually looked guilty.

Well, at least she had some self-awareness.

I sighed, leaning back. "Whatever. What'd you get?"

She perked up instantly, pushing the pouches toward me. "As you instructed, I have succeeded in the task you entrusted to me. I managed to exchange the treasure for local currency." She puffed out her chest. "The people in the lower districts are surprisingly loose-lipped when given a few drinks. I've already picked up rumors about some underground dealings—"

I held up a hand. "That's great and all, but can you at least let me eat first?"

"Oh! Right! Of course, Senior!"

She looked genuinely embarrassed this time, folding her hands in her lap like a scolded child.

I exhaled through my nose and waved over a server.

"What does my friend here want?" I asked, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Let's eat first, and then we talk."

Gu Jie immediately stiffened, shaking her head. "No need! I don't want to impose—"

"Not an option," I cut in smoothly. "Either you eat with me, or I leave you to your devices."

She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.

I could tell that despite all her posturing, she wasn't used to being on the receiving end of generosity. It made sense—this morning, she'd been a starving street thief. If she wanted to follow me, she'd have to get used to things like this.

After a moment of visible internal struggle, she relented.

"...I'll have whatever you're having," she mumbled.

The server nodded and hurried off.

I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "Seriously, not even a full day since you tried to rob me, and you're already this eager to please?"

Gu Jie ducked her head, fiddling with her sleeves. "I wasn't lying when I said I'd do anything for you, Senior. If you'll have me, I'll prove my worth."

I didn't respond right away.

Instead, I picked up my chopsticks and resumed eating, letting her sit with her own thoughts.

When her food arrived, she hesitated again, staring at the steaming bowl as if it were some kind of rare treasure. I watched as she lifted a few strands of the braised pork noodles, blowing on them before taking a cautious bite.

The moment the flavor hit her tongue, her expression shifted. Her brows lifted ever so slightly, and though she didn't make a sound, the way she took another bite immediately after spoke louder than any words.

I chuckled. "Good, isn't it?"

She swallowed, nodded once, then returned to eating with newfound focus.

I turned my attention back to my own meal, savoring every bite.

The xianxia world certainly had its flaws—overly arrogant young masters, ridiculous cultivation rivalries, and an obsession with face—but I had to give credit where it was due. Their spices? Absolutely divine.

The broth was rich, infused with layers of flavor I couldn't even begin to describe. It had a deep umami taste, but with an aromatic kick—probably some kind of spiritual herb added to enhance both taste and qi circulation. The pork, slow-braised to perfection, melted effortlessly on my tongue.

I took another bite, letting the warmth settle in my stomach. Even if my body didn't need food as much anymore—thanks to stats improving my physical condition—good food was still good food. And unlike their inferior ale, which barely held a candle to the beers of my old world, the cuisine here was something I could actually appreciate.

I reached for my cup of rice wine, taking a careful sip. It was smooth, with a faint floral undertone. Not bad. Still not as good as a proper whiskey, but leagues better than the swill I'd been offered in the seedier taverns.

Gu Jie, meanwhile, had slowed down after inhaling half her bowl. She glanced at me, her expression oddly serious.

"I wanted to apologize, Senior." She placed her chopsticks down, folding her hands in her lap. "For failing to follow instructions. You told me to meet you at dusk in the alley, but I…" She hesitated. "I got ahead of myself."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Nevermind that." I waved a hand dismissively. "Just eat your darn food."

Gu Jie blinked, then huffed a quiet laugh. "You're not even going to scold me?"

"What's the point?" I picked up another dumpling, biting into its crispy shell. "You already know you messed up, and you're actually apologizing for it. That's more than I can say for most people in this world."

She lowered her gaze, mulling over my words for a moment before nodding. Then, without another word, she picked up her chopsticks and resumed eating.

For a while, we simply ate in companionable silence.

The marketplace hummed around us, the chatter of merchants and travelers filling the air. The faint scent of roasting meats and freshly baked pastries mixed with the lingering aroma of my meal.

I let out a content sigh, taking another sip of my wine.

Life wasn't perfect.

But at least, for now, I had good food, decent company, and a pocket full of coin.

Could be worse.

008 Gold & Dignity

We finished our bowls of noodles, leaving nothing but a slick sheen of broth at the bottom. The meal had been satisfying—rich, savory, and exactly what I needed after a long morning of singing and wandering the city.

Still, I wasn't quite ready to leave.

I gestured for the server. "Do you have any dessert?"

It was a long shot. A place like this might not have the delicacies I was used to, but to my surprise, the server's eyes brightened.

"Yes, Young Master! We have something quite rare—shaved ice!"

I blinked. "Shaved ice?"

The server nodded eagerly. "A specialty of our establishment. Our family possesses an heirloom that allows us to create ice even in the height of summer!"

That caught my attention. "An heirloom, you say?"

"Yes," he said proudly. "A treasure passed down for generations. Though it is merely a low-grade artifact, it serves us well."

An artifact, huh?

I wasn't entirely sure how artifacts worked in this world, but I knew they were akin to magical tools. That was about the extent of my knowledge. I wasn't about to pry into their family secret, though, so I simply nodded. "Bring us two."

Minutes later, two bowls of fluffy white ice arrived, lightly drizzled with syrup.

I took a bite. Cold. Sweet. Refreshing. Not bad.

Across from me, Gu Jie hesitated, watching me for a moment before cautiously scooping a spoonful. The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes widened ever so slightly, though she said nothing. Instead, she quietly focused on methodically finishing the dessert.

As we ate, I decided to revisit something that had piqued my interest earlier.

"You mentioned something about the underground dealings in the city," I said casually. "What's that about?"

Gu Jie set down her spoon, her interest piqued. "Ah, yes. A rumor I picked up—about the underworld bosses of Yellow Dragon City. It seems they've agreed to a temporary truce."

I raised a brow. "A truce?"

She nodded. "Yes. They've joined forces to operate a massive gambling ring for tomorrow's dueling event."

Now that was interesting.

"Let me guess," I said dryly. "The City Governor is turning a blind eye?"

Gu Jie smirked. "Not just that. He's actively supporting it."

I exhaled through my nose. Naturally.

A gambling operation of this scale—where rival gangs set aside their grudges—wouldn't be possible without official backing. If the City Governor was involved, then this wasn't just some back-alley betting racket.

It was a fully sanctioned enterprise.

With major sects and grand clans gathering in the city, the betting pool was bound to be immense.

Gu Jie leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "The dueling event is already the talk of the city. With gambling added to the mix, it's going to be absolute chaos."

I tapped my spoon against the bowl, deep in thought.

I wasn't much of a gambler, but I had to admit—I was curious.

Would I attend? Absolutely.

Would I step into the ring? Not a chance.

Right now, the last thing I needed was unnecessary attention. My priority was simple: observe, learn, and stay unnoticed.

That said… I was looking forward to seeing the duels.

With a flick of my wrist, I opened the pouches Gu Jie had handed me, revealing neatly stacked gold coins, gleaming under the dim lantern light.

I let out a small hum of approval. Not bad.

These were originally LLO gold coins, now converted to this world's currency. To think that just three LLO gold pieces had turned into this many coins… quite the sight.

Across the table, Gu Jie regarded me curiously. "Senior… why do you even need gold? You could have exchanged it for Spirit Stones instead."

Ah. Spirit Stones.

The lifeblood of cultivators—used for both trade and cultivation. A standard in nearly every xianxia story, and apparently, this world was no different.

I scooped up a handful of gold coins, letting them clink between my fingers. "I need spending money for mortal services. Pretty obvious, don't you think?"

Gu Jie still looked confused.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. Right. This was a xianxia world.

Mortals weren't seen as important.

To someone like Gu Jie, using gold instead of Spirit Stones must have seemed absurd. In her eyes, why waste time with currency that couldn't enhance cultivation?

Sheesh… xianxia nonsense struck again.

Still, I had better things to do than explain basic economics to someone who had likely spent most of her life just trying to survive.

My gaze drifted to her appearance once more.

She was in better shape than when we first met, but that wasn't saying much. She was still too thin, her complexion rough, and her clothes—well, calling them 'ragged' would be putting it kindly. She wasn't dirty, but she carried the look of someone who had struggled for far too long.

I exhaled through my nose, then slipped one of the money pouches into my Item Box before sliding the other across the table.

Gu Jie blinked. "Senior…?"

"Take it."

She frowned. "Why?"

I gestured at her with my spoon. "Because you look terrible."

Gu Jie stiffened.

I ignored her reaction and continued. "Get yourself proper clothes. Maybe some skincare treatment—or whatever people do in this world to improve their looks."

Her expression twisted with offense. "I don't need—"

I cut her off with a flat stare.

"Listen," I said, tone even, "if my follower looks like a beggar, what does that say about me?"

Gu Jie opened her mouth, then closed it.

I leaned forward slightly. "Do you really want to degrade my dignity like that?"

Her face went through an entire internal struggle before settling into a look of absolute guilt.

I could practically hear her thoughts.

'I'm shaming my benefactor! I must not bring disgrace to Senior!' Or something along those lines. Gu Jie gulped, then bowed her head. "I… I understand, Senior."

"Good." I waved her off. "Go fix yourself before I change my mind."

She hesitated only for a moment before clutching the pouch like a lifeline. Then, without another word, she rushed off—no doubt already planning how to 'restore my dignity' as fast as possible.

I smirked to myself.

Guilt-tripping xianxia characters was too easy.

But before she got too far, I called out, "One more thing."

Gu Jie stopped immediately, standing straight. "Yes, Senior?"

I tapped the table thoughtfully, then gestured for her to sit again.

"I want you to use any leftover funds to bribe certain people and gather information for me."

Gu Jie's eyes sharpened. "What kind of information?"

I leaned back, resting my chin on my hand. I had to be careful here. If I made it too obvious that I was fishing for world knowledge, she might grow suspicious. The last thing I needed was someone questioning why I was so ignorant.

So, I put on my best frivolous expression, as if struck by a passing whim.

"I've been thinking," I mused, feigning idle curiosity. "I feel like building my own library."

Gu Jie blinked. "…A library?"

I nodded. "That's right. I want every kind of book—mundane texts, cultivation manuals, historical records, even merchant logs. If it has words, I want at least one copy."

Gu Jie frowned, clearly struggling to understand why someone with no known sect affiliation would want a private collection of books.

"…Senior, are you a Scholar?"

I laughed. "Do I look like one?"

"…No."

"Exactly." I smirked. "I just happen to enjoy… knowledge."

Gu Jie hesitated, then eventually nodded. "Understood."

I reached into my Item Box and retrieved a dozen gleaming LLO gold coins, placing them on the table with a soft clink.

"These are extra funds." I slid them toward Gu Jie. "Exchange them for Spirit Stones, herbs, or hire some muscle. I don't care how you use them. Consider it an additional test."

Gu Jie didn't take them immediately. Instead, she hesitated, her brows furrowing.

I arched a brow. "Problem?"

She clenched her fists. "Senior… I'm only a First Realm cultivator."

"And?"

"If I move around too much, I might attract the wrong kind of attention. If people suspect I have wealth, I could be robbed… or worse."

Ah. Right.

A First Realm cultivator wasn't much stronger than an above-average mortal. In the world of xianxia, she was barely above common fodder.

I exhaled through my nose, then reached into my Item Box again. If I was going to send her out to handle errands, I might as well make sure she didn't die in the process.

With a flick of my wrist, I retrieved three scrolls, each rolled up neatly and tied with a thin ribbon.

Gu Jie's eyes widened. "Senior…?"

I placed them on the table, one by one. "Magic scrolls."

She didn't react—clearly unfamiliar with the term.

I sighed. "They contain imbued spells. To activate them, just rip them apart."

She reached out hesitantly, as if they might explode in her hands. "What kind of spells?"

I gestured to each one.

"This one is Blink—an instantaneous short-distance teleportation spell."

Her lips parted in awe.

I moved to the second scroll. "This is Greater Teleportation. Unlike Blink, it requires two to three seconds of channeling, but it sends you much farther."

Finally, I tapped the last scroll. "And this one is Invisibility. Self-explanatory."

Gu Jie stared at the scrolls as if they were priceless treasures.

"Senior… these are too valuable for someone like me."

"They're expensive," I admitted, "but you're my follower, aren't you?"

She straightened immediately. "Yes, Senior!"

"Then it's my job to make sure you don't die."

Her lips trembled slightly. Was she getting emotional?

I ignored it and continued.

"If I could, I'd just give you a magic ring with the same effects," I mused. "It would be far cheaper than using up my limited supply of scrolls."

Gu Jie lowered her gaze slightly, hesitating before speaking. "…Then, is there a reason you prefer these scrolls instead, Senior?"

I sighed. "Because I don't know how they would interact with qi."

She blinked. "Qi and… your kind of magic don't mix?"

That was just an excuse.

The real reason I even name-dropped 'magic rings' was to gauge her reaction.

I had already learned enough from her responses to my gold and scrolls, but more data never hurt. If she had shown even a flicker of awe at the mention of magic rings, it would have told me that powerful rings existed in this world—ones with innate abilities, much like my own.

But her reaction? Lackluster.

She hadn't even blinked at the idea, merely asking why I didn't use them instead. That suggested rings were common, or at least not rare enough to be worth any real excitement.

The problem was… the rings I owned weren't just accessories.

I idly ran a thumb over the plain-looking band on my index finger. It was an enchanted artifact—something that granted innate skills or stat boosts.

And from what I had observed, the cultivators in this world only wore unassuming rings, likely Storage Rings. No elaborate designs, no flickering inscriptions of power, just simple, practical tools.

If Gu Jie had shown more reverence, I might have concluded that enchanted rings with innate skills existed here. But since she hadn't, I was left with an unanswered question—were cultivator rings here nothing more than glorified storage?

I exhaled quietly and leaned back, my gaze drifting toward the street outside.

I needed more information.

"Gu Jie," I said, breaking the brief silence.

She straightened immediately. "Yes, Senior?"

"When you look at my ring, what do you see?" I asked, tapping my finger against the one I wore.

Gu Jie glanced at my hand, then back at me, clearly unsure where I was going with this. "...They appear well-crafted, Senior."

I arched a brow. "That's it?"

She hesitated. "Apologies, but… they do not seem special. At least, not outwardly."

I hummed. That all but confirmed my suspicions.

If enchanted rings with innate skills were common, she would have at least commented on them. But to her, they were nothing more than well-made accessories.

Good. That meant I still had an edge.

I stretched slightly before returning my attention to her. "You mentioned talismans earlier. How do they compare to my magic scrolls?"

Gu Jie pursed her lips, carefully choosing her words. "Talismans are drawn with qi-infused ink and burn upon activation, releasing the stored effect. However, their strength is determined by the skill of the one who inscribes them. A high-grade talisman can be powerful, but low-quality ones are unstable and may fail."

I nodded. That was in line with standard xianxia settings.

"And artifacts?" I pressed. "The ones that store abilities."

Gu Jie's brows furrowed slightly. "Artifacts are refined through various means, but most require the wielder to channel their qi to activate them. The more profound the artifact, the stronger the requirement. Some high-tier treasures can only be wielded by Spirit Mystery cultivators or higher."

I drummed my fingers against the table, processing the information she provided. "Good, you didn't lie to me." I made it sound as if she had passed some hidden test. I wondered how much I could abuse this excuse in the future.

Gu Jie sighed in relief. "Thank you, Senior."

What for?

Never mind…

I leaned back slightly and explained. "These scrolls work by simply tearing them—no complex activation required. But enchanted rings? Those require a specific kind of energy input. And I don't know if qi and my magic will mix well."

Gu Jie frowned, deep in thought, her fingers brushing against the edge of the scroll I had handed her. I could almost see the calculations running through her mind, the way her brows furrowed in concentration.

This whole situation confirmed something for me—whatever this world was, it wasn't just some undiscovered region of Lost Legends Online. If it were, she would've at least recognized some of this magic. The disconnect between her understanding and mine ran too deep for it to be a simple matter of unfamiliarity.

She looked like she wanted to ask more, but after a moment, she swallowed her curiosity and nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "Then… I'll treasure these."

"Good." I smirked. "See that you do."

009 Goldfish Wins

The moment she stepped beyond the Senior's presence, Gu Jie's expression changed.

Gone was the hesitation, the fleeting embarrassment—only cold calculation remained. She moved with the easy grace of a predator, shoulders loose, gaze sharp.

The gold coins in her hand were no ordinary currency. Even a halfwit could tell they were relics of foreign lands, the kind that could fetch a small fortune in the right hands. Carrying them carelessly was inviting disaster.

She slipped into a secluded alleyway, where dim light barely reached past the tattered talismans clinging to the walls—remnants of half-hearted wards, long since faded. Methodically, she concealed her newfound wealth. Some coins disappeared into the folds of her ragged garments, nestled between layers of fabric where they wouldn't jingle. Others were pressed against her skin, wrapped within her bandages. The pouch of local gold went into her boot—within easy reach should she need to bribe or flee.

Only when every coin was secured did she move again, vanishing into the labyrinth of the city's backstreets.

Here, the air hung heavy with the scent of cheap liquor and damp wood, the quiet hum of desperation woven into every breath. Shadows loomed at the edges—ruffians, lone cultivators, beggars who weren't truly beggars. She paid them no mind. They returned the courtesy.

This was neutral ground. The kind where one survived by knowing the rules, spoken or otherwise.

Once, Gu Jie had dreamed.

She dreamed of cultivation, of immortality, of a destiny worthy of the heavens.

Orphaned from birth, she had clung to hope. Even when a demonic cultivator took her in. Even when that so-called master drained her lifeblood to fuel his own path, leaving her crippled and ruined.

She had been Third Realm once. A promising future, shattered in an instant—reduced to a mere First Realm insect. And yet, she had still believed.

When the righteous sects attacked, she thought her prayers had been answered.

Holy blades gleamed, cutting through darkness. She rejoiced, thinking salvation had come.

She had been naive.

Branded as wicked, she stood alone, frail and trembling, as eager young heroes circled like vultures, debating who would take credit for her severed head.

Her heart shattered.

Then, crueler still, her master—the very fiend they sought to destroy—rose once more in a tide of malice and slaughtered them all.

Those righteous heroes, those beacons of justice, gone in an instant.

The only mercy? She escaped.

But freedom came at a price.

Her body was twisted by the flawed techniques forced upon her. Hunger gnawed at her bones and cold nights stole her rest. Weakened with every breath, she was forced to resort to every trickery just to survive.

Survival demanded its due.

She had abandoned honor long ago.

So, she became a bandit.

She robbed the weak. Threatened the helpless. Struck down those who resisted.

More than once, she had come close to taking an innocent life. But she never dared.

Even at her lowest, she knew that crossing that final line meant no return.

Pathetic as it was, she preyed only on mortals—those who could not fight back. It was shameful, but survival did not care for dignity.

Then came her greatest mistake—and perhaps, her greatest fortune.

She misjudged a target.

A lone young master, wandering the festival streets, unarmed and unguarded.

No weapons. No treasures. No discernible Qi.

Cultivators, especially the powerful ones, rarely mingled so freely with mortals. And this man? He was too ordinary. Handsome maybe, but ordinary. He spoke like a mortal, moved like a mortal, lacked the subtle presence that all cultivators carried.

Gu Jie had spent years honing her instincts, sharpening them like a blade against the whetstone of hardship. They had never failed her before.

And yet, she had been so terribly, laughably wrong.

What should have been a simple robbery became a near-death experience.

And then, impossibly, she was healed.

That was the day she met him.

And now, she walked through the back alleys with his gold in her boot and his words in her mind.

Perhaps—just perhaps—hope was not lost after all.

Yet Gu Jie knew better than to trust in miracles.

She was not naive, only desperate.

Her intentions toward this mysterious Senior were not entirely pure—hopeful, yes, but also selfish. If she could prove her sincerity, if she could earn his favor, perhaps he would take her as a disciple.

She had seen his movement technique. Even now, the memory remained vivid—the effortless shift, the seamless vanishing and reappearance, as though he had stepped beyond the constraints of the world itself.

It was not Qi-based.

She lacked Qi Sense, but she had long since developed Common Sense. No fluctuations, no subtle distortions in the air, no telltale pressure that accompanied even the most refined techniques.

It was something beyond her understanding.

And that terrified her just as much as it fascinated her.

Was he a hidden master? A rogue immortal? Something beyond comprehension?

She did not know.

But she knew one thing.

He was her only chance.

Her only hope.

And he had already given her enough to act.

Gu Jie strode through the dimly lit backstreets with purpose.

The air was thick with the stench of cheap liquor, unwashed bodies, and rotting food. Rats scurried past her feet, their tiny claws scratching against the stone. In the distance, voices murmured—hushed negotiations, whispered threats, the occasional dry chuckle of a man who had nothing left to lose.

She ignored them.

Her path led to a familiar sight—a small, rundown teahouse, its faded red lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze. The wooden sign creaked, the once-proud calligraphy barely visible beneath layers of dust and neglect.

Inside, seated at a low wooden table, was an elderly man draped in tattered gray robes. His wispy beard, once a mark of dignity, had grown uneven and thin. His eyes, half-lidded and clouded with age, still held the sharpness of a man who had seen too much and forgotten too little.

Old Song.

A relic of another time. A man who lived in the present, yet clung to the past.

He hunched over a steaming cup of tea, fingers stained yellow from years spent poring over ancient scrolls and forbidden texts. His gaze flicked up as she entered—piercing, unreadable.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"Old Song," Gu Jie greeted, her voice steady. "I have an errand for you."

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "An errand, is it? I am an information broker, girl, not your errand boy."

She ignored the protest.

"I need books. Manuals, common or otherwise. Whatever you can find." She met his gaze evenly. "I will pay market price—and more. Let's say… a five percent commission on the total value of the texts you gather."

A bushy brow lifted. "Five percent?" He let out a dry laugh. "You must have found yourself a fearsome master to demand so much from me. Do you think five percent is enough? That's too little!"

Gu Jie didn't so much as blink. "Too little?"

Old Song smirked, stroking his uneven beard. "Information is my trade, girl, but so is business. Procuring books—especially manuals—requires effort. Some are held by scholars too stubborn to part with them, others by sects that guard them like treasures. And then there's the matter of moving them discreetly, lest someone else decides to stick their nose where it doesn't belong." He spread his hands. "Do you know how much risk I'd be taking?"

Gu Jie crossed her arms. "And yet, you're still considering it. Why?"

The old man chuckled. "Because I can smell opportunity, and you reek of it. Whoever this master of yours is, he's generous—or foolish—enough to give you spending money. That means you'll be back. And a repeat customer is worth far more than a one-time windfall."

Gu Jie met his gaze evenly. "Then five percent is fair. It ensures I return, and it ensures you remain useful."

Old Song let out a wheezing laugh. "Hah! Clever girl." He tapped the table with a bony finger. "But let's say I agree to this robbery of a deal. I assume you're not expecting miracles? Certain manuals—sect-exclusive techniques, legacy tomes, divine arts—aren't things I can simply pull from thin air."

"I don't need heaven-defying treasures," Gu Jie said smoothly. "Not yet. I need foundation—mundane books, basic cultivation techniques, general knowledge on alchemy, formations, history." She met his eyes. "You and I both know those are easier to obtain. And you also know that at five percent commission, you still make a profit."

Old Song chuckled again, shaking his head. "You're more ruthless than you look."

She said nothing.

A pause.

Then, the old man sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll play along—for now. You'll have your books. Two days."

Gu Jie gave a curt nod. "Two days."

"How about an introduction from your Master?"

Gu Jie did not blink.

"My benefactor is none of your concern."

The old man took a slow sip of tea, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

"Oh, but it is, little girl. It always is."

Gu Jie's patience was wearing thin.

"I have no time for your games, Old Song." Her voice was flat, unwavering. "Don't test me."

The old man chuckled—a dry, rasping sound like brittle paper crumbling in the wind.

"Oh? And here I thought you were just a little beggar girl not too long ago. Look at you now—ordering me around like some noble miss." His cloudy eyes held amusement, but he did not press further.

Gu Jie remained silent, watching him. Waiting.

A moment passed. Then another.

Finally, Old Song let out a sigh. "Fine. What else do you need?"

"Directions."

His brow lifted. "To where?"

"The most famous salon, tailor shop, and bathhouse in Yellow Dragon City."

Old Song blinked.

"…What?"

Gu Jie did not repeat herself.

The old man leaned back, rubbing his chin, his confusion genuine. "You? Interested in such things? Hah. Didn't take you for the type."

She wasn't. Not really.

But things had changed.

She had never cared for vanity, never had the luxury to consider it. But now, she had no excuse either.

Senior had given her the means—the command, even.

It would be shameful not to use them.

Old Song muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. "Well, I suppose even wolves like you need to clean up once in a while."

Gu Jie's gaze sharpened.

The old man raised his hands in surrender, laughing. "Fine, fine. There's a tailor shop near the southern market square—Golden Thread Pavilion. You'll know it when you see it. The best salon? Moonlit Silks, in the eastern district. And as for a proper bathhouse… Jade Serenity Bathhouseis what you're looking for."

He tapped the table. "Expensive places. You sure about this?"

Gu Jie simply nodded.

Old Song exhaled sharply, giving her a long look—something caught between amusement and something else.

"Hah… Well, well. Maybe you really have found yourself a Master worth serving."

She did not answer.

She merely turned and left.

The experience was… strange.

Comfortable, yet overwhelming.

Gu Jie had never indulged in such luxuries before. Not once.

The Jade Serenity Bathhouse was far beyond what she had expected. She had prepared herself for simple hot water, perhaps a few scattered herbs. Instead, she was met with fragrant steam, silk robes, and attendants trained in massage and acupressure techniques.

The moment she stepped into the water, she nearly collapsed from sheer relaxation.

She hated how much she enjoyed it.

Then came Moonlit Silks, the salon. Delicate hands combed through her tangled, brittle hair, trimming away the dead ends, washing it with scented oils, weaving strands into soft, flowing locks. For years, her hair had been uneven, rough, neglected. Now? It felt light, smooth, alive.

And finally—

Golden Thread Pavilion.

The tailor raised a brow when she entered, taking in her previously ragged state. But the moment she produced gold, their demeanor shifted instantly.

And now—

She stood before a full-length bronze mirror, clad in black and gold. The ensemble was elegant yet practical, the fabric light but durable, woven with subtle patterns that caught the light. Her freshly cut dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, smooth and glossy.

She barely recognized herself.

A stranger stared back.

For a fleeting moment, she looked like the cultivators she had once idolized in her youth. Strong. Proud. Untouchable.

But then—

"Hic!"

A small hiccup escaped her lips.

Gu Jie froze.

Her fingers clenched around the folds of her robe.

For years, she had been nothing but a shadow—scavenging, lurking, surviving in the underbelly of the world. And yet… standing here, before this mirror, she saw a glimpse of the girl she had once been.

A dreamer.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Gu Jie was a patient hunter. Finding her Senior—a man who stood out like a sore thumb in emerald robes—was laughably easy.

After confirming with one of the city's "rats" that the books she had ordered would be ready for pickup at first light in two days, she turned her focus toward tracking him down.

Normally, it would take her an hour at most. Today, however, she was fortunate.

She spotted him immediately.

There—at an arcade stall.

Playing a children's game.

Her steps slowed.

Senior sat in front of a shallow tub filled with darting goldfish, holding a flimsy paper scoop, his expression one of absolute focus. His brows were furrowed, his entire presence radiating intensity as he stared down his tiny, fishy opponents.

The stall owner, an elderly man, watched in barely concealed amusement.

Gu Jie's lips twitched.

Still, she approached, stopping just behind him.

The Senior flicked his gaze upward, instantly recognizing her. His eyes swept over her new appearance—the freshly cleaned hair, the black and gold robes, the refined look.

And then—

"You look good," he remarked.

Gu Jie froze.

No one had ever told her that before. Was this a test? A trap? A meaningless remark?

Swallowing her hesitation, she quickly regained her composure.

"Senior," she said, bowing slightly. "How may I be of service?"

She had hoped for some form of recognition. A sign that he approved of her dedication. That she had done well in following him.

Instead—

The Senior frowned.

Then, in a flat, annoyed tone, he said:

"Fuck off."

Gu Jie's lips twitched violently.

"…Senior?"

"Go enjoy the festival or something." He flicked his wrist dismissively, eyes never leaving the water. "I gave you money, didn't I? Stop bothering me."

She stared at him.

Her fearsome, mysterious, impossibly skilled benefactor.

Locked in mortal combat.

With a goldfish.

…

Gu Jie inhaled deeply.

Lowering her head slightly, her expression perfectly composed, she murmured, "Understood, Senior."

Then, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Resisting the overwhelming urge to rip her own hair out.