The night sky above the Southern Plains shimmered with a silver glow, the moon hanging high like a polished pearl. Its gentle radiance spilled over the quiet road leading toward the market, outlining Aelric's silhouette in soft white. His jade-colored hair reflected the light like strands of frosted glass, while his crimson eyes gleamed with an eerie luster that caused passing mortals to avert their gazes.
The closer he walked toward the heart of the market district, the livelier the world became.
Vendors shouted over one another, customers bickered about prices, children ran between stalls with skewers in hand, and the scent of roasted meat mingled with incense and fresh-cut herbs. The noise was messy, chaotic… alive.
Aelric walked through it all without slowing even half a pace.
His steps were light and steady—calm in a space defined by clamor. The crowd naturally parted around him, for his presence elicited a quiet instinctive fear in mortals. They sensed something different about him—an aura that didn't belong to an ordinary traveler.
Aelric's gaze was tranquil, but attentive. He absorbed every small detail: escape routes, number of vendors, distribution of guards, the layout of stalls, and the faces he passed. Nothing was missed; nothing was wasted.
Eventually, he reached his destination.
At the very end of the street stood a recently-built shop. Unlike the wooden, slightly weathered stalls around it, this one was crafted with higher-quality materials. Smooth pillars held up its polished roof tiles, and carved cloud motifs adorned its entrance. Pale lanterns hung by its door, illuminating the signboard with a warm glow.
A merchant establishment with ambition.
Several customers were already inside, and uniformed servants hurried about fetching items and answering inquiries. Their movements were coordinated and smooth—well-trained.
Aelric stepped into the shop.
Instantly, a well-dressed middle-aged man approached him with a courteous smile. His attire was modest compared to cultivators, but refined enough to signal seniority within the shop.
"Esteemed guest," the man greeted with a slight bow, "welcome to our humble establishment. How may we serve you tonight?"
He spoke with respect bordering on reverence—because he had already taken in Aelric's hair, eyes, and aura. No mortal looked like that, and no martial artist of low rank walked with such composed sharpness.
Aelric's voice was soft but carried a cutting clarity.
"I require a storage ring," he said, "and some basic inner-energy pills."
The shopkeeper's eyes flickered with delight.
"Of course! Please, allow us a moment."
He waved a hand sharply. A pair of servants immediately bowed and hurried to the back rooms.
The shopkeeper then personally pulled out a chair and gestured.
"Please sit, esteemed guest. May I bring you tea while you wait?"
Aelric sat, but his gaze sharpened. The man's behavior was overly hospitable, almost too eager—there was a hidden motive.
"You have another intention," Aelric stated calmly.
The shopkeeper froze, his expression stiffening for a moment. Then he let out a wry, defeated chuckle.
"As expected of esteemed guest. Nothing escapes your eyes."
He signaled the remaining servants to fetch an additional item. When they returned, they carried two bamboo trays.
—The first tray held a simple blue-colored storage ring and a small sack containing ten inner-energy pills.
—The second tray carried a small wooden box.
The shopkeeper personally opened the box with great care.
Inside lay a black storage ring etched with faint red engravings. Even without spiritual energy sensitivity, the difference between the plain blue ring and this one was obvious—the black ring exuded a subtle pressure, as though something ancient clung to it.
Aelric's eyes narrowed slightly. The aura was faint, but distinct.
The shopkeeper's voice lowered, slow and tempting.
"This ring… belonged to an immortal cultivator who perished on Black Mountain, west of these lands."
He waited for Aelric's reaction, then continued when he saw none.
"The ring is a bound item. No ordinary person can claim ownership, which is why it has remained in our inventory for so long. Though damaged… its value is immeasurable to the right person."
He leaned closer, speaking more softly with each sentence.
"Someone of your bearing, esteemed guest, should be able to handle it. Perhaps even restore it."
Aelric ignored the flattery. Empty praise was meaningless to him.
Instead, he evaluated the ring silently.
If this truly belonged to an immortal cultivator… it is no ordinary artifact.
Whether it still retained its inner space or not, acquiring it held no risk. And even if it was broken beyond repair, Aelric did not concern himself with money. Coins were simply a means, not an end.
Seeing Aelric's extended silence, the shopkeeper quickly added his final weapon—an offer.
"If you purchase this ring for 300 gold coins, I will grant a 50-gold discount on the other items."
Aelric accepted.
The deal was struck, the coins exchanged, and the shopkeeper bowed deeply as Aelric turned to leave.
For a moment, Aelric considered settling his inn bill—but his purse was now nearly empty. He dismissed the thought. He would return to the Azure Heaven Sect tonight, settle everything the next morning, and continue from there.
He stepped out into the moonlit street and began walking back toward the sect.
—
The Azure Heaven Sect's gates were quieter at night, but lanterns cast long golden shadows over the courtyard. As Aelric approached, several disciples straightened their posture and bowed hurriedly.
But the real surprise awaited him inside.
The Sect Leader, Jian Wuhen, stood there personally. Beside him were several elders… and the First Young Master.
Or rather—the First Young Master standing with the support of his younger brother.
Though his legs trembled slightly, he was upright—alive and recovering.
The moment the young man saw Aelric, he pushed off his brother slightly and bowed deeply, lowering his head.
"Senior Divine Doctor ," he said with genuine gratitude, "I… owe you my life. Thank you."
Aelric's crimson eyes showed no shift in emotion.
"Your father made an agreement," he replied. "I fulfilled my part. That is all."
But the young man insisted—bowing again and again, words tumbling out.
Aelric sighed inwardly. Social obligations were a chore, but avoiding them only prolonged things.
He lifted a hand and lightly patted the young master's shoulder.
"I accept your thanks," he said curtly. "That is enough."
The Sect Leader smiled warmly at the exchange.
Just as Aelric attempted to return to his room, Jian Wuhen stepped forward.
"Esteemed Divine Doctor ," he began respectfully, "I have a request. Would you accompany me to my study?"
Aelric assessed him briefly, then nodded.
The Sect Leader led him through a series of quiet corridors until they reached a well-furnished room. He motioned for servants, who quickly brought two neatly wrapped books and placed them on the table.
Jian Wuhen pushed them toward Aelric.
"These are for you."
Aelric glanced down.
One book detailed human pressure points.
The other book—sound transmission arts.
"These are not part of our original agreement," Jian Wuhen said. "I give them not as a Sect Leader… but as a father whose son you saved."
Aelric paused.
His gesture was genuine unlike before but Such gestures held no meaning to him in the emotional sense—but he understood value, and he understood intentions. Rejecting the gift would complicate future interactions; accepting was simpler.
He nodded once.
"I will use them."
The Sect Leader smiled with relief.
After brief farewells, Aelric left and returned to the guest room assigned to him.
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, silence enveloped the space.
He placed the two books gently upon the bed.
Then he sat down, opened the first page… and began to read.
The flickering lantern cast a warm glow across his pale features as his crimson eyes scanned the text with unwavering focus.
Knowledge was power.
And power—true power—was the only path forward.