Xue Qin Lou—the heart of Baishan City's nightlife and the most popular establishment in town. Nestled at the city's center, its grand architecture and inviting façade stood out like a gem amid the bustling streets. The towering building, adorned with intricate carvings and lanterns casting a soft amber glow, exuded an air of luxury that drew people in like moths to a flame.
The doors of Xue Qin Lou never closed. Day or night, music flowed from within—gentle notes of guqin strings, the soft lilt of flutes, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the streets. It was a haven for merchants seeking respite, nobles looking for distraction, and wanderers in need of entertainment.
Though many outsiders whispered rumors, calling it a high-end brothel, the establishment never bothered correcting the misconception. Let them believe what they wanted. In truth, Xue Qin Lou sold nothing more than skill and artistry—music, poetry, dance, and conversation. The allure of mystery only added to its charm, drawing in the curious and the skeptical alike.
Around noon, the entrance buzzed with patrons eager to escape the midday heat, their voices a blend of excitement and gossip. Sunlight streamed through open windows, casting warm golden hues across the floor as stories unfolded—some of business, some of pleasure, and others... secrets hidden beneath polite smiles and casual laughter.
Inside, the atmosphere was alive with revelry. Patrons filled every available seat, their voices a constant hum beneath the music. Laughter echoed from the far tables, where some drank and exchanged boisterous stories, while others indulged in dance and song. Plates piled with delicacies were passed around as wine flowed freely, staining lips and loosening tongues. No corner of the main hall was left unoccupied.
For those seeking discretion, private rooms lined the second floor—luxuriously furnished and soundproofed to keep prying ears at bay. Tonight, many of those rooms were occupied, doors closed to the noise below.
In one of these rooms, three men sat around a low table, dishes spread before them, the rich aroma of roasted meats and spiced wine filling the air. A woman knelt at the far end of the room, fingers gracefully plucking the strings of a guqin. Her voice—soft, melodious—wove through the room, creating a delicate counterpoint to the men's hearty laughter.
"Cheers!" One of the men raised his cup, his face flushed from drink. The others followed suit, wine sloshing as the cups clinked together.
"Congratulations, Qin Xiong!" the man on the left grinned. "Breaking through to Mid Immortal Stage 1 at last!"
Brother Qin chuckled, the sound deep and pleased. "Ha! Ten years stuck at that damned bottleneck... I thought I'd never make it!" He downed his drink in one gulp, slamming the empty cup on the table.
"Truly a cause for celebration!" another man chimed in, refilling Brother Qin's cup with generous enthusiasm. "Your progress will put the rest of us to shame!"
Brother Qin waved him off with a laugh but readily accepted the refill. "If only I hadn't lost that pill, I would've shot straight up to Mid Stage Three!" he lamented with a shake of his head.
Had Xuan Tian been present, he would have recognized Brother Qin as Light Green 1—a cultivator whose strength, while respectable, paled compared to higher-ranked immortals.
"Don't remind me of last night," Light Green 2 muttered, his expression darkening. "That voice... it still sends a shiver down my spine."
Light Green 3 frowned. "Who do you think it was? A passing master? Seems unlikely. It's rare to find a cultivator without a sect these days."
"Maybe it was one of the senior brothers from Azure Mist Peak?" Light Green 2 suggested, though uncertainty lingered in his voice.
Brother Qin shook his head. "I doubt it. Those old things would never leave their Peak. They're obsessed with cultivating."
Light Green 2 nodded. "Hmm, you're right, Qin Xiong."
Light Green 3 sneered. "Too bad this is our last day here. Tomorrow night, we have to escort that shipment."
Brother Qin grinned and raised his cup. "Then we drink until nightfall! Cheers!"
"Cheers!" they echoed, cups clinking loudly.
Light Green 2 glanced at his empty cup and scowled. "The wine's gone. Waiter! Bring more wine!"
A knock came at the door. Moments later, an attending servant opened it, stepping aside for a young woman in a maid's uniform to enter. She carried a tray laden with fresh wine jugs, her movements graceful despite the weight. Carefully, she placed the wine on the table, her sleeves brushing aside empty bottles as she cleared them.
The men paid her little mind, already reaching for the newly arrived jugs. As she turned to leave, she paused, casting a glance over her shoulder. Her voice was soft, curious—but carried a note of earnestness.
"Xianren," she addressed them respectfully, "please tell me… how can someone like me become an immortal like your esteemed selves?"
The guqin's strings twanged abruptly, the player gasping as a note slipped. The attending servant who had opened the door dropped to her knees, forehead nearly touching the floor. "Have mercy, Xianren! She's new here!" she pleaded.
The three men stopped drinking, turning their gazes to the young maid. Ling Yu stood there, meeting their scrutiny head-on. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with innocence—and unwavering confidence. No fear. No hesitation.
Then—laughter. Loud and hearty.
"Ha ha ha ha!" The room filled with the men's amusement, their earlier tension melting away.
Brother Qin wiped a tear from his eye and set his wine bottle down. "You want to be an Immortal?" he asked, smirking.
Ling Yu's head bobbed enthusiastically. "Yes!"
Brother Qin grinned wider. "Well, aren't you lucky? I'm in a generous mood tonight." He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, round wooden token. Burned into both sides was a single character: 选 (xuǎn)—chosen. It gleamed faintly under the lantern light, deceptively simple for what it represented.
"Take this," Brother Qin said, holding it out. "Go to the Zhang Family Clinic now and hand it to them. They'll handle the rest."
Ling Yu accepted the token with both hands, her eyes lighting up with visible delight. She bowed deeply. "Thank you, Xianren!" Her voice was earnest—and if she was acting, it was flawless.
The men chuckled again, raising their cups. "Drink up, Qin Xiong! We're not done yet!"
Ling Yu stepped out of the room moments later, fingers closing tightly around the token in her palm. Her goal felt one step closer. See? That was easy, she thought smugly. I wonder how those guys are faring.
She looked at the token again and held it close to her chest. Become an Immortal. That was all that mattered.