030 Chibi Perfume
"I'm glad. I promise it'll be worth your time. I'll do my best to impress and make it an enjoyable evening."
The words had barely left my mouth before I realized how they sounded.
"The night is still young."
Okay. That was worse.
Jia Yun flinched—just slightly, but I caught it. A tiny hesitation, a flicker of unease in her eyes.
Crap.
I still hadn't fully adjusted to this world. How the hell did people invite someone to hang out in xianxia without making it sound… suggestive? There had to be a way, right? Cultivators weren't loners all the time—surely they had casual outings that didn't involve duels or sect politics?
Jia Yun composed herself quickly, but there was a stiffness to her posture now, like she had swallowed something bitter.
"If Senior Da wishes for this disciple's company tonight, then this disciple will comply."
I opened my mouth to correct her, but—
"However," she continued, her tone calm yet sharp as a blade, "I must make it clear—Jia Yun treasures her purity."
…
Purity?
Wait. Was this a religious thing? Did she have dietary restrictions? Maybe she was vegetarian? Some sects had weird rules about food… Was she forbidden from eating street snacks?
I could work with that.
"That's fine with me," I said, nodding like I completely understood. "If something displeases you, just say so."
At the back of my mind, I knew what she meant, but I refused to acknowledge it.
Jia Yun and I walked side by side through the dimly lit corridors of the Isolation Path Sect's quarters. The air was thick with silence—the kind that lingered when two people weren't sure whether they should be speaking.
The Isolation Path disciples' quarters lay in the quieter reaches of the City Governor's estate. Here, the air ran colder, shadows stretched longer, and the presence of its occupants felt more like an ominous whisper than something tangible. It wasn't eerie, exactly, but there was an undeniable sense of something unseen lurking in the corners, watching.
Just as we arrived, a familiar figure stepped into our path.
Fan Shi.
Jia Yun and Fan Shi locked eyes, their gazes sharp and unreadable.
For a moment, I swore I saw sparks flicker between them. Not the good kind—the kind that set the battlefield ablaze.
I cleared my throat. "Ah, Fan Shi, I was looking for you."
Fan Shi cupped her hands in greeting and gave a slight bow. "Many thanks for your guidance, Senior Da. How may I assist you?"
Guidance? Oh. She must have been referring to our brief exchange back in the arena when she fought Jia Yun. The use of Voice Chat to instructing her how to fight better… was as a matter of fact not realistic. It was only possible because of the sheer absurdity of my stats and Fan Shi's innate cultivation in Mind Enlightenment and what I suspected to be her Mind's Eye.
At the word guidance, Jia Yun flinched ever so slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Was she misunderstanding something?
I decided to push forward before she could start overthinking it. "Let's go out."
…
Fan Shi blinked. Jia Yun narrowed her eyes.
Okay. That sounded bad. Again.
I quickly corrected myself. "The two of you started off on the wrong foot. One of you nearly died, and the other was about to be absolutely and one-sidedly beaten to death."
Fan Shi's brows creased ever so slightly. Jia Yun tilted her head—like a particularly suspicious raccoon.
I continued, "This tournament exists to hone your skills and showcase your strength to the world. Whatever grudge you've built up over that fight, it's not worth keeping. I want the two of you to make amends."
Fan Shi looked at me as if I'd just spoken in an ancient, forgotten tongue.
Jia Yun folded her arms, her gaze unreadable.
Yeah. This was going to be an uphill battle.
Okay, maybe I had ulterior motives for inviting them out.
Gu Jie was busy cultivating with Lei Fen's guidance, and I had grown used to enjoying the festival—wandering the stalls, sampling the food, and soaking in the atmosphere. I had invited Chang Fan to join me, but he claimed he had duties to attend to.
Disappointed, I had originally planned to go alone and take my time. My circle of friends was pitifully small, but then I remembered—friends could be made.
That's when I thought of Jia Yun. She still owed me a conversation. More importantly, she owed me her life after I healed her. She wouldn't refuse.
And then there was Fan Shi.
There were plenty of reasons I wanted to talk to her. How could she wield psychic magic? Why had she been so openly hostile when we first met? Was it a personal grudge, or was I just that unlucky?
It was simply a bonus that I had the perfect opportunity to mediate between the two.
If I succeeded, I'd gain goodwill with both of them—an easy icebreaker for the future. If I failed, well… at least I tried.
For all the tragedies in the world, I figured most stemmed from a lack of effort. Not that I had tangible proof. But I supposed, personal experience should suffice.
I clapped my hands together. "Follow me, kids."
Jia Yun and Fan Shi exchanged glances before silently following as I led them through the City Governor's estate and toward the festival.
The guards at the gate looked confused as two beauties trailed behind me.
Couldn't blame them.
This morning, these two had been at each other's throats. Their fight had been the most brutal of the tournament so far.
Fan Shi had nearly been mauled by a she-fox a whole realm above her. Then Jia Yun had her soul forcibly wrenched out and been humiliated by a brute-force haymaker.
And now, here we were.
Nothing suspicious about that at all.
If I were to take sides, I would, of course, choose Fan Shi.
And yes, I was aware I was being biased.
Maybe it was because the Isolation Path Sect was looking after Gu Jie. Maybe that shouldn't have been a factor. But it was.
Painful as it was to admit, the fault lay with us—the adults—back in the VIP box when we started betting things we shouldn't have.
Sure, it was Long Xieren who first suggested it, framing it as a friendly wager, something casual and without real stakes. But I was the one who escalated it after seeing what Fan Shi could do.
Because of that, the Cloud Mist Sect had gone all in. They used their trump card—whatever that technique was.
In short, I was guilty.
Fan Shi's voice cut through my thoughts.
"Senior Da, I believe I was owed a treasure after you won the bet… against the Elders and the City Governor."
There was a barb in her tone. Not directed at me, but there nonetheless.
Jia Yun, for her part, remained outwardly indifferent. Her expression was perfectly neutral, but I caught the faintest tremor in her sleeve-hidden hand.
I sighed. "I gave it to Elder Lei Fen. He said it was too valuable for you and that he'd compensate you with something equivalent. If you're not satisfied, I can speak with him."
Fan Shi pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding. "It is fine, Senior. I accept this arrangement."
We finally arrived at the footpath where the night market was coming to life. The scent of sizzling skewers, steamed buns, and fried dough filled the air, mingling with the laughter of festival-goers.
Maybe this would be fun after all.
We were drawing attention.
And yes, I was pretty sure it was because we were pretty—myself included.
My charisma stat probably let me look good even while touching grass or something.
But the real reason for all the staring wasn't just my overwhelming charm. It was because Fan Shi and Jia Yun had fought earlier today in one of the most brutal matches of the tournament. And now, here they were, walking together with me.
It had to look bizarre.
"I didn't foresee this," I muttered. I liked to think I was the smart guy, but I guessed even geniuses slipped up. I still needed time to adapt, not to mention a lot to learn.
"At least they're giving us a wide berth," I added, watching as festival-goers hurriedly stepped aside. No one wanted to risk getting caught in the crossfire if these two suddenly resumed their battle.
Jia Yun and Fan Shi remained silent—not in a comfortable way, but in the 'I don't want to be here, but I have no choice' kind of way.
If you didn't want to come, just say no. Was that so hard?
Sadly, xianxia conventions demanded otherwise.
The fact that they weren't even exchanging snide remarks made me more concerned.
I needed a way to make them settle their grievances—for real.
I recalled Fan Shi being beaten into a corner by a fox-shaped Jia Yun. Then Jia Yun, utterly humiliated when Fan Shi struck her with Soul Rend. I vaguely remembered the flavor text of Soul Rend describing it as a technique favored by soul-suckers and mind flayers—monsters notorious for their sadism.
I could only imagine how agonizing it must have been.
So yeah.
This grudge ran deep.
I walked.
They followed.
I turned into an alley.
They still followed.
What was up with these gals? Did they have no self-awareness? I had even prepared an excuse in case they questioned me.
I stopped and turned to them with a stern expression.
"I said I'd show you guys a good time, right?"
They nodded, still wary of each other.
I smiled and reached into my Item Box, pulling out a small vial labeled Chibi Perfume.
"Stay still," I said as I sprayed them.
…That sounded wrong in so many ways.
I sprayed myself too for good measure.
Fan Shi took a sniff. "It smells nice."
Yep, it did. I was surprised too.
Then, in the most serious tone imaginable, Jia Yun asked, "Is it a sex-enhancing drug?"
I froze.
Did I—Did I hear that right?
I turned to Fan Shi, hoping for some kind of reaction. Judging by her utterly baffled expression, I probably did.
"No," I deadpanned. "It will make me small."
Jia Yun nodded as if coming to a grand realization. "Does small feel better?"
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Was it possible this ice-cold beauty was actually an airhead?
"No," I sighed. "I don't get what you mean… It will turn us small, so don't panic, okay?"
A soft pop filled the air, followed by a shimmer of starry sparks.
Fan Shi was the first to shrink, her form turning childlike while her clothes magically adjusted—just as advertised by the gimmicky perfume from LLO.
Jia Yun blinked. "Small… huh?"
She stared at Fan Shi. Then at me. Then back at Fan Shi.
A long pause.
Then, solemnly, she said, "Jia Yun understands. Jia Yun shall not panic then, Senior."
Good. A normal response—
"But you prefer us small?"
…
Okay.
Okay…
That sounded wrong on so many levels.
Before I could respond, my own transformation hit. With another pop, I shrank, my body turning childlike while my clothes adjusted accordingly.
I sighed. "Let's spend the night as kids and have fun, so no need to hold back. Also—" I shot them both a sharp look. "No getting into fights."
Jia Yun finally shrank, looking absolutely bewildered as she examined her tiny hands. Then she looked at Fan Shi. Then at me. Then back at her little hands.
I could practically hear the gears in her tiny head struggling to turn.
"So, it wasn't that kind of 'spend the night together'?" murmured chibi Jia Yun, her tiny arms crossed as she looked up at me in contemplation.
I sighed.
"Do you know, Jia Yun? You got one dirty mind…"
Jia Yun was blushing furiously.
Realizing what she had been thinking this whole time made me want to sit down and reevaluate my life choices.
"Dirty?" Fan Shi tilted her head. "What? What kind of night together?"
Not helping, Fan Shi.
I waved my hand. "Forget it. Just—forget it."
Jia Yun gave a slow nod, as if I had just confirmed some deep, unspoken truth for her. "Jia Yun sees… Senior prefers playing with children first before—"
"Nope. Stopping you right there." I clapped my hands together. "I swear, ladies should have more tact and finessed…"
"Apologies, Senior…" murmured Jia Yun, "I am ashamed of myself."
Fan Shi glanced between us, still confused, but thankfully decided not to pursue the topic further.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Alright, listen up. The whole point of this is to experience the festival without everyone staring at us like we're walking disasters. No tournament politics, no sect rivalries, no grudges. Just kids having fun. Understood?"
Jia Yun nodded solemnly. "Jia Yun understands."
Fan Shi hesitated, then sighed. "Understood, Senior Da."
"Look at me for a second," I said. "Now comes the important part."
Fan Shi and Jia Yun turned their eyes toward me, their expressions unreadable.
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. But this needed to be said.
"…I should apologize."
Their reactions were subtle but telling. Fan Shi's brow furrowed ever so slightly, while Jia Yun's lips pressed into a thin line. They knew what I was talking about.
"The way your fight ended in the arena… It wasn't just about skill or strength," I admitted. "It turned out like that because the adults watching from the VIP box were greedy. Stupid, too. And I was one of them."
Neither of them interrupted, which I took as permission to continue.
"You both knew about the betting, didn't you?" I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I played along. I let myself get swept up in it. At first, it was just a friendly wager, but then I escalated things. Because of that, the Cloud Mist Sect went all in and threw out their trump card."
I met their gazes. "In the end, both of you suffered for it."
Fan Shi's lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she held back.
Jia Yun, on the other hand, remained as still as a statue.
"I won't ask you to forgive me," I continued. "But if you hold a grudge against each other… I'm begging you to let it go."
Fan Shi stiffened. Jia Yun's fingers twitched at her side.
"You're both young," I said, my voice softer now. "Too many people in this world die before they even get the chance to live a full life. That's just… sad."
Silence stretched between us.
"I'm not telling you to be friends. I'm not even asking you to forget what happened. But just—think about it. What's the advantage of holding onto a grudge?"
I let the question hang in the air, giving them space to process it.
Then, as if fate wanted to throw me a lifeline, I caught sight of a stall just up ahead.
"…Anyway," I cleared my throat, pointing at it. "Why don't we decompress a little? You should at least try to enjoy the festival."
Fan Shi exhaled, almost a laugh but not quite.
Jia Yun glanced at the stall, then back at me. "…Jia Yun understands."
That was probably the best I was going to get.
I turned forward again, leading the way. "Good. Now let's go mess around before I regret everything."
031 Street Kid
The festival was in full swing, and for once, I wasn't thinking about schemes, cultivation, or impending death. Just three fellows wandering through the night, each enjoying it in their own way.
Fan Shi gnawed on a skewered grasshopper, the kind of street food that looked like it had crawled off the stick on its own. She chewed with perfect indifference, while I made a point of looking anywhere but at her.
Jia Yun, on the other hand, was the picture of refinement, holding a stick of dango with the grace of a noble sipping tea. If I ignored the fact that she was a murderous fox cultivator, she might have even passed for an ordinary girl.
Meanwhile, I was busy asserting dominance over a rigged festival game.
The goal was simple—land three rings on a beam to win a prize. It was designed to cheat players out of their money, but I refused to rely on my cultivation. No supernatural perception, no qi manipulation. Just raw skill. Or, more accurately, abusing my stats.
For the last throw, I shut my eyes, tossed the ring, and listened.
Clink.
I grinned before I even opened my eyes. "Hah! Victory."
Fan Shi and Jia Yun stared at me with the enthusiasm of monks at morning prayers.
The stall owner, an old man with a kindly smile, clapped his hands. "A fine throw, young master! Choose a prize."
I gestured toward a goldfish mask hanging at the side.
Masks were a common sight during the festival. Some bore the faces of celestial beasts, others of vengeful spirits. Mine was neither—just a simple goldfish with a lacquered surface and an expression that teetered between serene and absurd.
I tied it on, adjusting it until the eye holes aligned properly. "How do I look?"
Jia Yun barely glanced at me. "Jia Yun thinks the young master looks fine."
Fan Shi tilted her head, studying me with the solemnity of an appraising merchant. "…It looks acceptable."
I squinted at her. "I hear doubt in your voice."
She shrugged, unimpressed, and went back to her grasshopper.
Meanwhile, Jia Yun had already stepped forward. Without hesitation, she placed a full payment on the counter. "The fox mask."
The elderly stall owner, pleased by her straightforwardness, handed her a red-and-white fox mask with delicate gold detailing. Unlike me, she didn't tie it on properly. Instead, she slid it onto her head like a headband, letting it rest above her forehead. It suited her more than I cared to admit.
Fan Shi, having finished the last bite of her grasshopper skewer, wordlessly walked to another stall and bought another.
They were… quiet.
I wasn't expecting them to dance in the streets, but should it really be this hard to enjoy a festival?
To my left, Jia Yun nibbled delicately on her dango, fox mask resting atop her head. To my right, Fan Shi took measured, precise bites from yet another grasshopper skewer. Neither had spoken to the other since we arrived.
They weren't just ignoring each other. They were ignoring each other.
Oh well. At least I was having fun.
I wandered between stalls, taking in the festival's sights and scents. The air was thick with the aroma of sizzling meat, sweet pastries, and faint traces of incense. Lanterns of every color swayed above the crowd, bathing the streets in a warm, dreamlike glow.
At one stand, a vendor carved miniature sugar sculptures with the precision of a master artisan. At another, a fortune teller waved her hands dramatically over a glowing crystal ball, whispering ominous predictions to a rapt audience.
Further ahead, an arm-wrestling contest drew cheers and laughter. A burly man crushed challengers left and right, slamming their hands onto the table with hearty guffaws. I considered joining—then thought better of it. My reputation was already strange enough without me utterly humiliating some poor street performer.
Instead, I focused on the real reason I was here—having fun, my way.
I tossed rings at another game stall, landing them cleanly on the prize beams. I flipped a coin into a lucky well, making a wish I immediately forgot. I challenged myself to balance on one foot while waiting in line for fried dumplings.
Yes. This was nice.
Then, suddenly, a kid crashed into Jia Yun.
The impact happened fast—a small figure collided into her side, twisting away before anyone could react. A pickpocket.
But Fan Shi was faster.
Without hesitation, she extended her foot, sweeping the kid off balance.
I sighed.
The child tumbled forward, landing with a startled oof! before scrambling to sit up. A tiny, dirt-smeared hand clutched something tightly to their chest.
Fan Shi's gaze was cold, unyielding. "Stealing is wrong."
Jia Yun smoothed her sleeves, her tone calm but firm. "Return it."
The kid looked like a stray—tangled dark hair, sun-darkened skin, clothes of rough linen worn thin by time. There was a sharpness in his eyes, though, a wariness that reminded me of a cornered animal.
He was around our age… or at least, the same chibi form we currently wore.
Gritting his teeth, he clutched the stolen item tighter. "Over my dead body."
And then, like a trapped beast, he bolted.
Jia Yun moved before I could stop her.
A single, fluid motion—her leg swept forward, hooking the kid's ankle. He hit the ground hard.
Before he could even react, Jia Yun raised a fist, poised to strike.
I caught her wrist mid-air.
She blinked, startled, her cold expression cracking for the briefest moment.
Ignoring the kid's angry squirming, I crouched down and picked up the stolen item—a silver hairpin adorned with delicate blue gems. It gleamed softly under the lantern light.
I turned to Jia Yun and held it out.
She took it without a word.
With careful, deliberate strokes, she began wiping it clean, a faint mist of ice qi swirling around her fingers. Frost shimmered along the surface as she purified it, ensuring not a single speck of filth remained.
Only after it was spotless did she tuck it back into her silver hair.
Meanwhile, the kid tensed, ready to bolt again.
I sighed. A slight shift of my foot pinned his leg down just enough to keep him from escaping. He struggled briefly, then scowled up at me, defiant.
"What's your name?" I asked.
The kid bared his teeth. "Go drown yourself, rich boy."
I raised a brow. "That's not a name."
"You deaf or just stupid?"
Jia Yun tilted her head. "Senior Da, do you wish for this Jia Yun to remove his tongue?"
The kid paled slightly but didn't waver. "You—!"
I sighed, crouching lower. "Look, I don't really care that much, but if you keep running your mouth, I will rough you up."
His face twisted in frustration before he finally spat out, "Yu Tai."
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" I lifted my foot. "Now, why'd you steal?"
Yu Tai hesitated. Then, scowling, he muttered, "I'm just a hungry orphan."
That was all he said. But it was enough.
I stepped back. "Fine. You can go."
Yu Tai blinked, caught off guard. "…What?"
"I said go. Or do you want Jia Yun to take your tongue after all?"
His eyes darted between us, suspicious, clearly expecting some kind of trick. When none came, he gave a sharp nod and bolted into the night.
Fan Shi watched as Yu Tai vanished into the night, her expression contemplative. "Despite the City Governor's wisdom, poverty still lingers." Her voice was quiet, yet thoughtful. "Strange, isn't it?"
Jia Yun turned to me, unreadable as ever. "Senior Da, why did you let the thief go?"
I stretched lazily. "Because he doesn't belong here."
Jia Yun frowned. "Jia Yun does not understand."
Fan Shi tilted her head. "Not from here?"
I grinned. "Follow closely."
With a flick of my will, I shifted my TriDivine Skill to Divine Speed, feeling the change as my senses sharpened and my body grew lighter. The moment Yu Tai had brushed against Jia Yun, I had already memorized his presence within my Divine Sense.
There was no running from me.
I took off, weaving through the festival crowd, tracking the kid's presence as he slipped through alleys and side streets. Fan Shi and Jia Yun followed, their movements swift but controlled.
Yu Tai wasn't just some common street rat.
The kid knew what he was doing.
He was fast—not inhumanly so, but quick enough to use the festival's winding streets to his advantage, darting between stalls and slipping through distracted crowds with practiced ease. He moved like someone who had done this a thousand times before. It was almost impressive.
But I wasn't worried.
Here in Yellow Dragon City, even beggars had roofs over their heads. The city's prosperity wasn't just for show—it was built on a foundation of strict order and stability. Even three unattended children could wander its streets without trouble.
I had spent enough time here to know its layout like the back of my hand. Every shortcut, every alley, every hidden nook—I had mapped them all. And in all that time, I had never seen a true slum. There were poorer districts, certainly, but nothing resembling the lawless underbellies found in other cities.
Which meant one thing—
Yu Tai was an outsider.
It wasn't uncommon. Lost Legends Online and most medieval fantasy settings loved using street kids as disposable tools—smugglers, thieves, information brokers. Small, quick, easy to exploit. And with the festival drawing in travelers and fortune-seekers from all over, it was the perfect time to slip a few extra hands into the city.
Yu Tai wasn't just some hungry orphan.
I pushed forward, keeping my pace controlled. If I rushed, I'd only spook him into a tighter escape route. No, I wanted him to lead me somewhere.
Let's see where this rabbit hole went.
Yu Tai weaved through the festival streets, slipping past revelers and darting into narrow alleys. I kept Divine Speed active but restrained, tracking him effortlessly.
Eventually, we arrived at a tent tucked away in a secluded back alley, adjacent to several eateries. The scent of grilled meat and roasted chestnuts wafted over from nearby stalls, mixing with the damp, musty air. The tent itself was large but ragged, stitched together with mismatched fabrics, barely standing upright.
I exhaled.
I'd never seen myself as a hero. Well… outside of playing a Paladin in games. But in my past life, I'd been a teacher—a mundane existence, far removed from grand adventures and high-stakes moral dilemmas.
And yet, seeing this—knowing what was coming—made my stomach twist.
I was going to hate whatever was inside.
And sheesh, I was really starting to hate tropes.
Without a word, I jumped to the rooftops. Fan Shi and Jia Yun followed effortlessly, landing beside me with the grace of seasoned cultivators.
I turned to them. "Stay here. I'll go alone."
Below, the tent stretched across the alley like a temporary stronghold. The warm festival lights barely reached this part of the city, making it feel oddly detached from the lively streets beyond.
Two men sat by the entrance, playing checkers.
They were guards. No doubt about it. Their postures were too rigid, their eyes scanning every movement in the alley. Their armor was mismatched—a telltale sign of mercenaries or hired muscle. The stocky one, thick-bearded and broad-shouldered, was losing the game. He scowled at the board, moving his pieces with frustration. His opponent, a leaner man with sharp features, smirked as he made his move.
I opened Voice Chat, addressing David_69, my self-proclaimed Holy Spirit.
"I'm going to use Divine Possession to infiltrate and figure out what business these people have in Yellow Dragon City. If they're trouble, I'll deal with them. If a fight breaks out, call in the other two. Keep damage to a minimum."
"Copy that," David_69 answered.
I really needed to set up a proper appointment with this little guy sometime soon.
I exhaled and focused on the stocky guard. He looked healthy, if a bit stressed—perfect for a vessel. With a thought, I activated my only remaining spell slot.
"Divine Possession."
It was honestly… a waste of spell slot, but there were just things I couldn't let go… exploiting kids? Nah. Not under my watch.
A familiar pulling sensation gripped me as my consciousness detached from my body and surged into the guard. The world blurred—then snapped into focus through new eyes. I felt the weight of thick arms, the tension in his shoulders, the lingering heat of frustration from the game.
Time to see whether I was just being paranoid…
Or if a righteous cause was about to land in my lap.
Divine Possession was a strange spell. Normally, I shared control with the possessed, but sometimes, my stats alone completely overpowered them. It had happened with Pan Xia before. And it was happening again.
The guy didn't resist. Not even a flicker of awareness. Just… silence.
Complete possession.
I had to be careful with that.
For now, I focused on blending in. I moved a checker piece, playing as naturally as possible. Across from me, the lean guard remained fixated on the board, seemingly unaware that his partner—who had been losing all night—was suddenly making winning moves.
"So, what's Boss been up to?" I asked casually, placing my piece down with what I hoped was the same level of familiarity as the original guy.
It was a bluff. For all I knew, they didn't even have a Boss.
The other guard snorted. "Probably scheming how to appeal to the City Lord's empathy, hoping to get a chance to prove ourselves… and maybe, just maybe, earn citizenship." He moved his piece with a resigned sigh. "Always the… begging… but this time, we're begging the City Lord."
I paused mid-move.
Okay. Maybe I'd assumed they were bad people a little too quickly.
I liked to think I tried to see the good in people, but in reality? I was just as susceptible to knee-jerk reactions as anyone else. Maybe it was the xianxia setting—this world had turned me paranoid, always expecting the worst.
But if they were here to plead for a place in Yellow Dragon City rather than run a criminal enterprise, then this was a different kind of story entirely.
I kept playing, keeping my tone casual. "So, how long have we been here?" I asked, feigning curiosity while setting up a double-jump.
"A few days. Came in when the festival gates opened," the guard answered, scratching his head before making a move. "What kind of question is that? Are you drunk?"
I ignored that and asked instead, "And we're really hoping for citizenship?"
"Yeah. Boss says we just need a chance. If we can prove we're useful, maybe they'll let us stay."
I subtly activated Divine Sense, scanning him for any trace of deception.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of hesitation. He truly believed in what he was saying.
Huh. That was unexpected.
I opened Voice Chat and addressed David_69. "Show Jia Yun and Fan Shi a good time while I get the full story out of this."
"Copy that," came the reply.
Satisfied, I finished the game—winning, of course—and stood up, stretching. "Well, time to go in."
The other guard barely glanced up. "Boss is inside. Don't do anything stupid."
I entered the tent.
It was larger than I'd expected—and packed. Men, women, and a surprising number of children huddled together, eating simple meals. Some bore the look of people who'd seen better days—former artisans or laborers fallen on hard times—while others were clearly street folk.
The kids especially stood out. Their clothes were ragged, their faces smeared with dirt.
And at the center of it all stood the Boss.
She wore a blue mask, obscuring her features. But even without seeing her face, there was presence—the kind that made people naturally listen. She moved among them, overseeing food distribution, ensuring everyone got their share.
I stepped forward, grabbed a ladle, and casually started helping.
Alright. This wasn't too bad…
032 Small Little Things
The Boss stood at the center of the tent, overseeing the food distribution with effortless command. A blue mask concealed the upper half of her face, hiding the color of her eyes. Her long black hair, tied in a loose ponytail, framed her face with a few stray strands. She was not tall, nor did she exude raw intimidation, yet the way she carried herself—calm, measured, authoritative—left no room for disorder.
She moved with practiced ease, ladling out bowls of porridge in steady rhythm. Each person stepped forward, accepted their share, and moved along without complaint. No jostling, no arguments, no chaos. It was an orderliness that felt almost unnatural.
I had seen charity drives back on Earth—volunteers struggling to control desperate crowds, people pushing to the front, snatching more than their share. But here? It was peaceful. Disciplined.
Lin Lim. That was what the others called her.
I scooped another portion into a bowl, glancing at the contents: simple rice porridge with slivers of dried meat and vegetables. A humble meal, yet in a place like this, it was survival itself.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar figure.
Yu Tai.
The boy had slipped forward, bowl outstretched. His face was carefully neutral, but the flicker of hesitation in his eyes betrayed him the moment he noticed me. To him, I must have seemed like an imposing figure, a warrior too dangerous to trifle with.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. "Where is it?"
Yu Tai tensed. "W-what?"
"Everything you stole."
His fingers tightened around the bowl. "Why?"
I held his gaze. "Because it wasn't yours to take."
"What does it matter?" His lips curled into a scowl. "You said we don't need to pay, but it's alie, isn't it? Those at the top always demand tribute!"
I arched a brow. "Tribute? That's what you call stealing now?"
His glare sharpened. "Call it whatever you want. It's the same in the end. The strong take from the weak. The weak take from the weaker. That's just how the world works."
A bitter philosophy, but not an unfamiliar one. The raggedness of his clothes, the stubborn set of his shoulders—this was no mere pickpocket. He was a child shaped by hardship, someone who had spent too long at the mercy of fate's cruelty.
And fate had rarely been kind.
The murmurs around us faded into silence. I glanced around—children, teenagers, even a few adults had turned their attention toward us. Some were curious. Others wary. A few bore the weary expressions of those who had seen this play out before.
Then, a calm voice cut through the tension.
"What seems to be the issue here?"
Boss Lin Lim approached, her blue mask concealing her expression, making her unreadable. Yet, her presence alone was enough to still the restless air. She moved with the effortless grace of someone accustomed to command, her sharp eyes shifting between Yu Tai and me.
I exhaled and gestured toward the boy. "Your little troublemaker has a habit of taking what isn't his."
Yu Tai stiffened but did not deny it. His jaw tightened, fingers clenching around the bowl as if bracing for a storm.
Lin Lim regarded him for a moment before letting out a quiet breath. "Is that true, Yu Tai?"
The boy hesitated. His gaze flickered toward the watching crowd. There was something in his eyes—pride, perhaps, or defiance. But in the end, he merely clicked his tongue and looked away.
The silence stretched. The weight of so many eyes settled upon him.
Then, the murmurs began.
"He got caught, huh?"
"Well, he's always been reckless."
"Figures. But what's she gonna do about it?"
"She won't be too harsh. He's still one of us."
Yu Tai shifted, unease creeping into his stance. Lin Lim must have noticed as well, for she spoke before the whispers could fester into something worse.
"I know many of you come from different places," she said, her voice steady, measured—not loud, but carrying an undeniable weight. "Different cities. Different streets. Different struggles. But under this tent, we live the same lives."
The murmurs died.
Lin Lim turned back to Yu Tai. "What did you take?"
The boy's shoulders slumped. He glanced at me, then at the expectant crowd, before finally exhaling in resignation. Reaching into his ragged clothes, he pulled out a small pouch and dropped it into Lin Lim's waiting hand.
She opened it, glanced inside, then… returned it to him.
I had no idea why.
Lin Lim's voice remained firm, steady as a mountain. "Under my tent, no one will steal, no one will harm, no one will take from their own. We survive together, not at each other's expense. That is the rule."
Yu Tai clenched his fists but held his tongue. The defiance in his eyes wavered, but pride kept him silent.
Before the moment could stretch further, the tent's entrance was pulled aside, and a young man stepped in. His robes were immaculate, the silk smooth and unblemished, a stark contrast to the worn fabrics of those gathered here. His every movement spoke of careful upbringing, of a life untouched by hunger or hardship. His gaze swept the room, barely lingering on the gathered crowd before settling on Lin Lim.
"Lin Lim," he called, his tone direct, assured. "How's everyone doing?"
She inclined her head, offering neither deference nor warmth. Without another word, she turned and strode toward him, leaving the rest of us in silence.
I exhaled slowly, turning back to my task. The rhythm of ladling porridge into bowls gave me an excuse to listen, to observe. As I struck up casual conversations, the picture grew clearer.
These people were not from Yellow Dragon City. Most hailed from smaller, struggling towns, places where wealth was a distant rumor. Yet, year after year, they braved the journey here.
"Why go through all that trouble?" I asked.
A grizzled man chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't know? Wait a minute… are you new?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do you think?" I injected a bit of sarcasm to my tome.
"The seventh day of the festival," he said. "The Grand Feast. It's tradition. No matter who you are, no matter where you come from—on that day, you eat like a noble here. No questions asked."
I faltered.
All this effort… just for a single meal?
My first instinct was disbelief, but then I remembered the festival itinerary. The Grand Feast. I had skimmed over it, dismissed it as just another event. I hadn't realized what it meant.
I had been looking down on them.
Not intentionally. But deep down, I had carried the assumption that because I came from a world of the 21st century, I was better. That my knowledge, my experiences, my way of life—were superior.
But these people were not primitive. They were not ignorant.
They were surviving.
If I didn't have my power and riches, I could have been them too.
I let out a slow breath, the weight of my thoughts settling in. I had spent enough time here. With a mental command, I canceled Divine Possession, and my consciousness snapped back to my main body.
I should probably put in a good word for them with Ren Jin. Maybe he could—
And then I saw them.
Jia Yun and Fan Shi lay sprawled on the ground, battered and dazed, like two puppies who had just lost a fight to a much bigger dog.
What the hell happened?
I blinked. My fingers curled around something. A... tree branch?
A very familiar tree branch.
A picture formed in my head—David_69, my self-proclaimed holy spirit, swinging the branch like a righteous instrument of divine judgment.
I opened Voice Chat.
"What were you doing with them?"
David_69's voice rang in my mind, ever pious. "Showing them a good time."
I rubbed my temples. "…And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?"
"I asked them what they wished to do for fun." His tone was perfectly righteous. "Both requested guidance. I obliged."
I looked at Jia Yun and Fan Shi again.
Alright. That… made sense. Sort of.
Note to self: My holy spirit, which had somehow gained sentience, was basically a child. Do not give him too much responsibility.
Back in Lost Legends Online, holy spirits were an oddity. They existed in an astral state, untouched by magic or mortality. Neither ghosts nor divine messengers, they were beings of pure faith, embodying concepts rather than flesh.
In the game, they were revered as saints.
I wasn't sure if David_69 lived up to that reputation.
Jia Yun and Fan Shi groaned as they pushed themselves up, instinctively supporting each other. It wasn't conscious, nor was it particularly friendly, but it was… something.
A bond? No, not quite.
Rivals.
Jia Yun wobbled slightly, her chibi-sized form making the movement almost comical. "This Jia Yun acknowledges the vast difference in—" She caught herself, barely stopping before slipping into first-person speech.
Fan Shi dusted off her tiny sleeves, exhaling. "If possible, we wish to challenge you again, Senior."
I blinked.
Ah. So that was how it was.
They had stopped holding grudges.
Now, they were united—against a common enemy.
Me.
Excellent work, David_69.
Jia Yun and Fan Shi steadied themselves, determination burning in their chibi-sized eyes. The way they leaned on each other, despite their exhaustion, made me think—maybe their rivalry wasn't so bad. At least now, they weren't avoiding each other.
I smiled. An idea formed in my mind, equal parts stupid and brilliant.
I opened Voice Chat—which, at this point, was basically Qi Speech, cultivator-style.
First, I addressed Fan Shi. "I have a test for you. Your goal is to make Jia Yun laugh. But you must not laugh yourself. The first one who laughs loses and won't get to spar with me."
Then, I turned to Jia Yun and gave her the same instructions with Voice Chat.
"Jia Yun," I softly told her what needed to be done. "I have a test for you. Make Fan Shi laugh and you must not laugh yourself. The first one who laughs loses and won't get to spar with me."
The two exchanged a sharp look.
A silent agreement passed between them.
I could almost hear the sparks crackling in the air as they braced for battle—not with swords or fists, but with sheer willpower.
Su-ba-ra-shi.
I stretched lazily. "Let's go enjoy the festival before our chibi forms run out," I said, as if I hadn't just thrown them into a ridiculous contest.
That day, I rediscovered a part of myself.
The little troll inside me.
…Not that I had ever truly lost it.
Hahaha.
033 The Lost Legacy
In one of the rooms assigned to the Isolation Path Sect within the City Governor's estate, a certain little goldfish swam happily in her bowl. I leaned in close, using the allure of the lettuce to gently feed the little fishy. Ren Jingyi wiggled excitedly in response. Good girl. I continued to shower her with affection, watching her swim in lazy circles, while my attention remained on Gu Jie.
She sat across from me, her posture composed, her hands resting lightly in her lap. Her complexion was still paler than it should be, but there was something steadier about her presence. She seemed more at ease, the shadow of constant deterioration no longer pressing so obviously against her.
I asked, "How are you doing?"
Gu Jie lowered her head slightly in greeting before responding, "Elder Lei Fen has delivered on his promise, Master. I can now continue cultivating Delayed Destiny of the Demonic Path at the First Realm."
I hummed, continuing to watch Ren Jingyi's little fins flap. "That's good news. Does that mean you've stabilized your condition?"
Gu Jie hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "It is an improvement. But ultimately, it is still an incomplete technique. I will have to complete it myself."
I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "And when you do?"
Her expression didn't change, but I could hear the conviction in her voice. "I will rename it. It will no longer be associated with the demonic path."
A smile tugged at my lips. "So, a path of your own, huh?"
Gu Jie's eyes flickered with something unreadable before she gave a small nod.
I leaned back, stretching. "Well, that makes two of us, then."
She tilted her head slightly, but I didn't elaborate.
It was the morning of the fifth day of the festival, and nearly the sixth day since my arrival in this world. Time moved fast. Too fast. The semi-finals would happen this afternoon, and after that… well, things would only get more interesting from here.
Across from me, Gu Jie sat with perfect posture, her black and red robes neatly arranged as she poured tea with measured grace. She was always composed, always restrained, but I had spent enough time around her to recognize the occasional flicker of emotion in her eyes.
She looked at me seriously, then finally spoke.
"Master… why did you not take me as your disciple?"
I paused mid-offering of lettuce to the goldfish. That was… unexpected.
"Do you believe I am lacking?" she continued, voice even, but I could sense something fragile beneath it.
Oh boy. How was I supposed to answer that? I wasn't even sure how to process the idea of having a disciple in the first place. Pretending to be an immortal cultivator was already a lot to juggle, and now I had people actively trying to shove themselves into the role of my students.
I sighed, rubbing my temple. "It's not about that, Gu Jie."
"Then what is it?"
I glanced at her, considering my words carefully. "The path I walk… it wouldn't be compatible with yours."
For a moment, she just stared at me. Then, slowly, her expression fell.
"I understand." She lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening slightly around her tea cup. "Forgive me for overstepping my bounds, Master. Clearly, a demonic cultivator like me should not have dared."
…Oh, come on.
I sighed again, setting aside the lettuce as Ren Jingyi swam around, probably sensing the shift in mood.
"That's not what I meant," I muttered.
But Gu Jie didn't look up.
I wasn't great at this whole 'profound wisdom' thing, and I really wasn't about to sit here acting like some enlightened master who spoke in riddles. The truth was, I had no idea if my abilities could even be taught to someone else, let alone someone with a completely different cultivation path.
How was I supposed to explain to her that my power system probably wouldn't work on her?
Instead of trying to force an answer, I reached over and tapped the wooden board between us.
"Teach me Go."
Gu Jie blinked. "Go?"
"Yeah. I've never played before, but it looks fun."
There was a beat of silence. Then, slowly, she set down her tea and started placing the black and white stones on the board, explaining the rules as she went.
As we played, the tension gradually eased. She was patient, methodical, and surprisingly good at explaining strategies without overwhelming me with details.
For the first time in a while, we weren't talking about cultivation, or fate, or power struggles.
Just two people, playing a game.
And honestly?
It was kind of nice.
The soft clack of stones filled the quiet room.
I studied the board, pretending I understood what I was doing. Gu Jie sat across from me, her gaze sharp and focused as she placed another stone down with precise intent.
"Master," she suddenly said, not looking up from the game, "do you still sleep?"
That was an odd question. I glanced at her before returning my focus to the Go board. "It depends. Not so much recently. I don't really have to sleep, anyway."
Honestly, I missed the sensation of sleeping.
But I'd rather not, suspecting the weird memory mumbo-jumbo haunting me.
Some kind of memory synchronization to my game character… or something.
Gu Jie nodded as if that was expected. "I thought so. Elder Lei Fen once mentioned that cultivators of the Fifth Realm and above no longer require sleep. Those beyond that point do not even need to eat."
Now that was interesting. "So what, they just run on air?"
She shook her head. "Not quite. They still require energy. That is why even the highest-level cultivators meditate. It serves as their means of replenishment."
"Huh." I leaned back, considering that. "I guess that makes sense. Everyone needs energy in some form."
Gu Jie hummed in agreement, her red sleeves shifting as she reached for another stone. "But, Master…"
I felt her eyes on me, assessing.
"I have never seen you meditate."
…That was a good point.
I never sat cross-legged in deep contemplation or absorbed Qi from the heavens or whatever it was that cultivators did. I barely even stopped moving. From the moment I arrived in this world, I had been running, showing off, and scheming nonstop.
Rather than answer, I decided to consult my inner holy spirit.
"David_69," I whispered through Voice Chat, my voice only reaching the entity within me.
"Yes, My Lord?" came the immediate response.
I studied the Go board. "Advise me on my next move."
A pause. Then, "Place your stone three spaces to the left. It will reduce your losses."
I did as instructed.
Gu Jie raised a delicate eyebrow but said nothing. She placed her next stone without hesitation.
Then she asked, "Master… are you an immortal?"
I almost fumbled my next move.
Frankly? I had no idea.
Back in Lost Legends Online, game characters—whether NPCs or player avatars—could exist for hundreds or even thousands of years, depending on their race and lore. But to players, those centuries translated into mere months or years in real-time. The game world ran on its own logic, separate from reality.
Technically, players were as immortal as they could get… considering the lore and their game characters' immunity to aging. And then there was the respawn mechanic.
But this world?
Was I still bound by the same rules?
Or was I something else entirely?
I had been avoiding these questions, too caught up in the immediate survival game that was this Xianxia Land. But the reality of the situation was pressing down on me, demanding answers I wasn't ready to face.
I needed to talk to David_69—not just about strategy or combat, but about what I was. About my transmigration. About what it meant. But I kept procrastinating.
Gu Jie placed her final stone. I stared at the board and realized, despite my best efforts, I had lost.
Barely.
"That was close," she remarked, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You did well, Master."
I sighed. "Thanks. But credit goes to my holy spirit."
Her expression flickered with curiosity, but she didn't press further.
I stared at the board, at the carefully laid stones, and at the nearly invisible margin between victory and defeat.
Somehow, it felt like a metaphor for something far bigger than just a game.
One of the most recurring tropes in xianxia was that characters were never truly free. No matter how powerful they became, they were always pieces on a board controlled by unseen forces—old immortals playing their games, ancient monsters lurking behind the veil of reality, manipulating fate as they pleased.
It was an overarching storyline, a cosmic struggle that loomed over every protagonist whether they acknowledged it or not.
The thought unsettled me.
Because if this world followed the same rules, then there was a chance—no, a certainty—that I was just another chess piece here.
I pushed that thought aside as Gu Jie reset the Go board. The weight of existential dread could wait. Right now, I had a game to lose.
Just as we placed the first few stones, Fan Shi arrived.
I'd requested her presence from Lei Fen, wanting this serious talk for some time now..
"This disciple greets Senior," she said, hands clasped in a formal bow.
"Make yourself comfortable," I replied.
Fan Shi smirked. "Then that's what I will do, Senior."
She moved with ease, settling beside us and pouring herself a cup of tea. She looked comfortable around me now, likely because we had hung out last night. It was a strange thing to see—her rigid demeanor softened into something almost casual.
I watched as she took a sip. Then I asked, "How did you end up following the Psymancy Path of the Mage Legacy?"
Fan Shi guffawed.
Then choked.
And then, with the force of a ruptured dam, she spat her tea in a full, unrestrained torrent.
"W-what do you mean, Senior?"
I met her eyes, my expression neutral. "Psychic Bolt, Mind Over Matter, and Soul Rend."
Fan Shi paled. Her hands trembled as she set down the cup. "You even know the skills' names…"
I did. And now, I was very interested in hearing her explanation.
As I placed another stone on the Go board, I glanced at Fan Shi, who was still staring at me like I had just unmasked her deepest secret.
"Only my Master and I should know the name of the secret technique I am practicing," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Gu Jie made a move. I countered.
Fan Shi frowned, conflicted. Her fingers tightened around her sleeves.
I let the silence stretch between us, letting her battle her own thoughts. Eventually, she caved.
"I… found a mysterious book in an old ruin," she admitted, looking down at her cup of tea as if it would offer some comfort. "It was written in a language I couldn't read, yet I felt like I could. The moment I tried to read it, it turned into motes of light… and then I absorbed it."
I placed my next move on the board, my mind running a mile a minute.
"The next thing I knew, I could perform techniques that didn't utilize qi but… an imaginary power that existed from a different dimension."
I froze mid-move.
Imaginary power from a different dimension?
That was an apt description for mana.
That was why in flavored texts, they were moved by belief and willpower.
I set my stone down, exhaling through my nose. My mind spun back to my time in Lost Legends Online. When Fan Shi said book, the first thing that came to mind wasn't just any book.
It was a Legacy Advancement Book.
In LLO, most players started without a class. After reaching a certain level and fulfilling specific requirements, they could use a Legacy Advancement Book to acquire a class or unlock a unique skill path.
Guilds loved hoarding those things.
Not only did they let new players advance, but they also allowed veteran players to unlock highly specialized and varied skill paths. Some books were rare beyond belief, hidden in obscure locations or guarded by high-level bosses. I had my fair share of fights over them.
Even if a player had the Skill Books they wanted, they couldn't learn the skills without a Skill Point and the proper Skill Path unlocked.
Fan Shi had, unknowingly, done something very similar.
I placed another stone on the board and asked, "Did you feel anything change about yourself after absorbing the book?"
Fan Shi nodded hesitantly. "My perception became… different. The world started feeling lighter—as if I was standing in two places at once. My thoughts became faster. And when I willed something to move…"
She raised a hand. The cup of tea on the table shuddered slightly before settling back down.
"…it listened," she finished.
Psymancy.
I leaned back. "You didn't learn these techniques. You remembered them."
Fan Shi's expression turned tense. "What do you mean, Senior?"
I tapped the Go board idly, my mind already fitting the puzzle pieces together.
"It means," I said, "that book didn't teach you anything. It unlocked something that was already there."
And that… was very concerning.
Why was the game named Lost Legends Online?
Emphasis on Lost Legends… and then there was the classes referred to as a Legacy.
The game had a unique take on 'cultivation,' but in a medieval fantasy setting, blending swords and sorcery with something deeper—something forgotten with a touch of mystique.
I wasn't big on lore, but I knew enough from my time as a frequent wanderer in the game.
Once upon a time, humanity had a legacy hidden within their souls—a potential untouched by the old gods. But during the long Dark Ages that predated the game's beta version, that legacy was lost.
The worldly races of that era waged war against the gods, using their legacies as weapons.
And yet, they were losing.
To protect their last hope, they sealed the knowledge of their legacies deep within their souls, hiding it away. They placed their trust in the future, betting everything on the next generation.
A chill crawled up my spine.
The only characters who could use Skill Books and Legacy Advancement Books in LLO were players or special heroic NPCs.
Most NPCs in the game weren't native to the world—they had arrived from portals, fleeing from their own ruined lands, repopulating the world after the Dark Ages. They mixed bloodlines with the denizens of LLO, giving birth to the next generation. Among the new generation, some had inherited immortal souls—fragments of champions from that lost era.
I stared at Fan Shi.
"Master, your move," Gu Jie reminded me.
I placed a stone on the board absentmindedly, but my focus remained on Fan Shi. I activated Divine Sense and swept my awareness over her.
Nothing.
There was nothing special about her. No distinct presence. No hidden energy. No signature that should mark her as different.
And yet…
"What is it, Senior?" Fan Shi asked, tilting her head.
I needed to be sure.
I needed a way to confirm if she was truly from this world.
So I tested it with the simplest trick I knew.
I cleared my throat.
"Baby Shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo~"
…
An awkward silence followed.
Gu Jie stared at me, completely lost.
Fan Shi tilted her head even further, looking equally confused.
The embarrassment wasn't killing me, but I sure wished I was dead.
034 Semi-Finals
Fan Shi was definitely not a player. That much was clear. She wasn't even reacting to things a modern person would recognize. No memes, no references, no sense of shared culture. That meant she was either a special NPC or a genuine person in a world that had, for some reason, become real to me.
Either way, as far as I was concerned, this was no longer a game.
I dismissed Fan Shi after our talk, letting her go about her day while I continued playing Go with Gu Jie. The game was oddly relaxing, a simple yet deep distraction from the ever-growing mystery that was my existence here. Eventually, though, duty called, and I had to leave for the semi-finals.
It wasn't exactly a duty, but… there was an obligation to it, in a sense.
Lei Fen for example would appreciate to have someone watching his back, especially with Pan Xia and Long Xieren being buddy-buddy.
I arrived a bit earlier than usual, and to my mild surprise, Long Xieren was already there. The arena felt different today—quieter, as if the air itself was holding its breath for what was to come.
"My fellow Daoist, you are early!" Long Xieren greeted me with a wide grin, already making himself comfortable.
I sat where I had last time. "Same goes for you, Daoist."
Long Xieren chuckled and leaned forward. "So, still up for another bet? I am feeling lucky today."
I waved him off. "Nah, yesterday was enough excitement for me."
He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "That was amazing. You should have seen Pan Xia's face after the entire ordeal, returning to his quarters looking like some guy just killed his dog."
I smirked at that. Considering how his night ended, I couldn't blame him.
Gu Jie hadn't accompanied me this time. She was worried about her demonic qi affecting me, as if people would suddenly start accusing me of consorting with demonic cultivators. Instead, she stayed behind with Ren Jingyi, the little goldfish, using the peaceful morning to continue her cultivation.
That was fine.
Long Xieren was an Elder of the Sword Canopy Sect, but he looked no older than a middle-aged man. He had the sharpness of a swordsman in his bearing—disciplined, yet relaxed, like a blade resting in its scabbard. He carried himself with the ease of someone who had long mastered his craft, his every movement deliberate and efficient.
Compared to him, Pan Xia was basically an old man. His beard alone could house a family of birds, and his wrinkled face gave him the appearance of a wise sage—though his attitude was closer to that of a scheming fox.
Elder Lei Fen, on the other hand, looked much younger than Pan Xia, but still carried the weight of years. He seemed to be in his late 40s, the kind of man whose presence alone was enough to command respect.
Just on time, the others arrived.
Ren Jin, the governor of Yellow Dragon City, entered the arena first, followed closely by Elder Lei Fen and Pan Xia.
I watched them take their seats before turning to Ren Jin, curiosity getting the better of me.
"If you don't mind me asking," I said, "why is it that some people call you City Lord while others call you City Governor? Is there a difference?"
Ren Jin considered my question for a moment before answering. "A matter of perspective, I guess… Most commoners refer to me as a City Lord, but that's technically wrong. For one, I wasn't born in this city. It was my wife who was born here. She's the City Lord. The Empire had simply posted me here, making me a City Governor."
That was interesting. "So, in other words, a City Lord is someone who rules over their own birthplace, while a City Governor is someone assigned by the Empire?"
"Precisely," Ren Jin confirmed. Then, with a knowing smile, he added, "Since you asked anyway, what is it like in your home? Do they have Lords too?"
It depended, of course. But if I wanted to stay consistent with my supposed background as a Paladin…
"Yes," I answered. "We do have Lords. Kings. Nobles. And the like."
Ren Jin's smile widened ever so slightly, as if he were reading into my words. "I see… Your homeland must be quite the place."
I merely nodded, keeping my expression neutral.
Ren Jin was surprisingly easy to talk to. Despite being the City Governor, he lacked the stiff, overly formal air I expected from someone of his status. We exchanged pleasantries, discussing the festival, the upcoming semi-finals, and eventually, I found myself recounting my little adventures with Fan Shi and Jia Yun last night.
As I spoke, I noticed Elder Lei Fen and Pan Xia subtly turning their heads in my direction. Their ears perked up, and I could practically feel their curiosity. After all, I was talking about their disciples.
"So, you're saying," Ren Jin said, holding back a chuckle, "that you had them competing in a contest to see who could make the other laugh first?"
I grinned. "They were already looking for an excuse to fight. I just gave them a different battlefield."
Lei Fen and Pan Xia exchanged a glance before letting out a breath, visibly relaxing. I guess they had been worried I was dragging their disciples into something more serious. Once they realized it was just harmless messing around—with me as the main perpetrator, no less—they seemed content to let it go.
Ren Jin leaned back with a nostalgic look in his eyes. "There were times I would mess around like that when I was a child. Of course, I had to be careful—being a prince meant that not everyone took jokes lightly. But a little mischief never hurt anyone."
That was interesting. I was about to ask more about his childhood when another thought crossed my mind.
"Do you know anything about a Lin Lim?"
Ren Jin's face immediately soured. He sighed, rubbing his temple as if just hearing the name gave him a headache. "Efforts have been made to placate them so they wouldn't cause trouble," he finally said.
That was vague. Too vague.
"They don't seem to have come here to cause harm," I pointed out. "At least, not from what I've seen."
Ren Jin gave me a contemplative look. "You're not the only one who thinks that. My son has been saying the same thing."
I filed that information away for later. Before I could press further, the atmosphere in the arena shifted. The noise from the crowd quieted as Chief Enforcer Liang Na stepped onto the stage. She moved with an air of authority, her robes billowing slightly as she came to a stop at the center.
Four figures followed behind her:
Fan Shi. Jia Yun. Lu Gao. And a sword cultivator from the Sword Canopy Sect.
Never really got his name. But from the way he carried himself, he was definitely skilled.
The semi-finals were about to begin.
Chief Enforcer Liang Na stood at the center of the arena, her commanding presence silencing the murmuring crowd. She gave a sweeping glance across the gathered spectators before speaking in a clear, authoritative voice.
"The time has come for the semi-finals of the Yellow Dragon City Tournament." She gestured toward the four contestants standing behind her. "Before you stand the four warriors who have fought their way through the preliminary rounds, proving their strength and determination."
She introduced them one by one, her voice carrying effortlessly across the arena.
"Fan Shi of the Isolation Path Sect."
Fan Shi stepped forward, her eerie yet composed aura causing a faint murmur among the spectators. She remained silent, hands hidden within her wide sleeves, her expression unreadable.
"Jia Yun of the Cloud Mist Sect."
Jia Yun hopped forward, hands on her hips, brimming with confidence. "Jia Yun is honored to continue in this tournament!" she announced, her voice carrying a lively energy.
"Lu Gao of the Lu Clan."
Lu Gao stepped forward, arms crossed, his confident smirk never wavering. "This one shall carve his name into the annals of history," he declared, exuding the self-assured aura of someone who never even considered the possibility of defeat.
"And lastly, Huo Jun of the Sword Canopy Sect."
The last contestant, Huo Jun, stepped forward with a steady, controlled grace. He wore the signature robes of the Sword Canopy Sect, his posture disciplined, his expression calm. A man of few words, he simply gave a respectful nod.
Liang Na continued, "The rules for the semi-finals are as follows: This round will be a two-versus-two match. The teams will be decided by drawing lots. Points will be allocated based on the number of knockouts or by forcing your opponent out of bounds."
A brief wave of excitement rippled through the crowd at the unexpected twist. A tournament usually followed one-on-one battles, but the two-versus-two format added a layer of unpredictability. The contestants, too, exchanged glances, gauging their potential allies and opponents.
An attendant stepped onto the stage, carrying a wooden ballot box. The contestants approached one by one, reaching inside and drawing their respective lots.
Jia Yun peeked at her slip of paper, her brows furrowing before she glanced toward Huo Jun. Meanwhile, Lu Gao grinned as he unfolded his, turning to look at Fan Shi, who raised an eyebrow.
Liang Na announced the results. "The match configuration has been decided. Team One: Lu Gao and Fan Shi. Team Two: Jia Yun and Huo Jun."
Lu Gao's smirk widened. "Looks like fate has granted me a fine partner."
Fan Shi gave him a sideways glance but said nothing.
Jia Yun narrowed her eyes at Lu Gao before turning to Huo Jun. "Hmph, I don't know about you, but this Jia Yun does not intend to lose."
Huo Jun finally spoke, his tone as calm as a still lake. "Neither do I."
With the teams set, the semi-finals were about to begin.
Lu Gao stood tall, his long dark hair tied back into a neat ponytail, exuding the confidence of a young master who had never tasted true defeat. His features were sharp, his stance relaxed but commanding. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips as if he already knew the outcome of this match before it had even begun.
I had been hearing a lot of hype about him from the common folk. Whispers of his battles filled the streets, painting him as a genius of unconventional tactics. Yesterday, he had managed to achieve an unbelievable 50% win rate—not by outright defeating his opponents, but by forcing draws in each of his matches. How? By breaking both his and his opponent's weapons.
An annoying yet undeniably effective strategy.
Yet today, something was off.
Lu Gao stood with a sword strapped to his waist. Not a spear. That was odd. He had used a spear yesterday. He had used a spear in every other match before this. Why switch weapons now?
I strained my hearing, extending my perception as Lu Gao casually spoke to his opponents.
"So," he drawled, "Jia Yun of the Cloud Mist Sect and Huo Jun of the Sword Canopy Sect. Two sect disciples. How traditional." He exhaled as if he were already bored. "Shall we make this interesting, or will this be another dull match?"
Jia Yun scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Lu Gao smirked, flicking his wrist, causing his sword to hum faintly as he loosened it in its sheath. "It means that in the grand scheme of things, this match doesn't really matter to me. Whether I win or lose, I'll make sure everyone remembers my name."
I cringed. This guy was seriously talking like a villain who hadn't read ahead in his own story.
Huo Jun, as expected, remained impassive. "Words are meaningless. We'll see if you can back them up."
Fan Shi, his supposed ally, simply gave him a sideways glance but remained silent. It was hard to tell what she thought of his antics.
The contenders took their positions, standing opposite each other. The tension in the air grew thick as the crowd quieted in anticipation. They bowed, a gesture of respect before the clash.
Liang Na's voice rang out.
"FIGHT!"
Jia Yun moved first, anticipating the building energy in Fan Shi.
A translucent frost wall erupted between her team and the opposing duo, a barrier of solid ice that stretched high, covering both herself and Huo Jun.
Right on time.
Fan Shi's unlinked projectile chains came raining down like serpents, writhing midair with eerie precision. Each chain was jagged, pulsating with cold, metallic energy. The frost wall held for a brief moment before the relentless barrage chipped and shattered through it. Cracks splintered across the icy surface before it exploded into misty fragments.
From the lingering mist, Huo Jun emerged.
His sword was already drawn. Three sword-like energy constructs floated behind him in a sharp, triangular formation—ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Fan Shi whipped her chains back, trying to ensnare him before he could act. But Huo Jun was fast.
He flickered—his figure blurring as he dodged at an impossible angle, leaving only a faint afterimage. He reappeared several feet away, safe from Fan Shi's reach.
Jia Yun, unfazed, flicked her fans. A barrage of wind blades shot forward, cutting through the air with lethal precision.
Lu Gao deflected them all.
His sword, seemingly ordinary, moved in rapid arcs, redirecting each wind blade harmlessly aside. Not a single one touched him.
Meanwhile, Huo Jun honed in on Lu Gao. His movement was swift, his sword constructs shifting with him, forming a calculated offense.
Lu Gao simply smirked.
"A perfect line."
Huo Jun's eyes widened.
Sensing danger, he instantly brought his sword up—along with the three sword constructs—forming an asterisk-like defense.
Lu Gao's sword pulsed.
"One Road to Hell."
A sulfuric scent filled the air. Black and red sparks flickered as Lu Gao swung downward.
Huo Jun's composure shattered. He gritted his teeth, his arms shaking from the sheer force.
Yet he endured.
The same could not be said for Jia Yun.
Lu Gao's sword wave didn't stop. It surged past Huo Jun, cutting through the air in a straight line—honing in on Jia Yun.
Fan Shi's eyes flashed. She didn't let the opportunity go to waste.
Her chains lashed out once more.
Jia Yun's reaction was immediate—another frost wall rose between her and the twin threats, blocking both Lu Gao's sword wave and Fan Shi's chains.
"One Road to Heaven."
The moment Lu Gao's sword wave slammed against the frost wall, something bizarre happened. Instead of dissipating or breaking through, the energy reversed.
The very same sword wave curved unnaturally, bending in midair as if guided by an unseen hand—homing straight toward Huo Jun's undefended back.
Jia Yun's eyes widened. She reacted fast, snapping her fan open and waving it with force.
A powerful gust of wind blasted Huo Jun, shoving him forward just in time. The redirected sword wave barely missed him. Instead, it returned to its origin—Lu Gao.
A normal cultivator would've been caught off guard.
Lu Gao wasn't.
He extended his free hand, absorbing the returning energy without breaking a sweat. The golden-red glow of his sword pulsed as he seamlessly channeled it back into his weapon.
Fan Shi saw the momentary opening.
Her chains lashed out at the disoriented Huo Jun, aiming to end his fight then and there.
Huo Jun, despite being off-balance, didn't panic.
He gritted his teeth and went for the only option left—attacking Lu Gao directly.
His sword sliced through the air, honed for Lu Gao's neck.
Lu Gao crouched low.
Huo Jun's blade whistled above him, missing entirely.
Fan Shi's attack was next—her chains shifting and coiling into a gauntlet-like weapon around her fist as she closed the distance. She swung at Huo Jun with fierce precision.
Huo Jun barely managed to react. His sword met Fan Shi's gauntlet in a desperate block, the impact pushing him back a step.
Meanwhile, Jia Yun moved again.
She flicked her fans, empowered by wind qi. They rotated rapidly like bladed discs as they homed in on Lu Gao with incredible speed.
Fan Shi pressed her attack, giving Huo Jun no time to regain his footing.
Lu Gao, seeing the incoming fans, smirked.
"It would be troublesome if you suddenly transformed into a fox," he said, eyes locked on Jia Yun. "I have to remove you whether by hook or crook."
Then, he moved.
Lu Gao stomped down hard. His figure flickered—disappearing from Jia Yun's view in an instant.
He didn't dodge. He surpassed the speed of the fans entirely.
By the time Jia Yun realized what had happened, he was already in front of her.
Lu Gao's palm struck her square in the chest.
A loud impact rang through the arena.
Jia Yun barely had time to process what happened before she was sent flying backward, crossing the boundary line.
"Out of bounds!"
The match was already tilting in one direction.