Hun Yao followed the masked receptionist up the creaking wooden stairs. Though the inn had appeared luxurious from the outside, every step on those stairs felt heavy, as if the air itself was filled with a suffocating pressure. His cultivator instincts screamed, warning him of unseen danger. He could feel a sharp gaze from behind the woman's mask — cold, piercing, and far from the politeness of her voice.
"This is your room, sir," said the receptionist, pointing to a carved wooden door at the end of the dim corridor. Her tone remained courteous, but there was an odd vibration behind her words, like a discordant melody.
Hun Yao nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Thank you."
The woman bowed slightly, her thin smile hidden beneath the mask. "May you have a pleasant night, sir." Then she turned and walked away, her silhouette fading into the darkness of the hall.
Once the door closed behind him, Hun Yao exhaled slowly. The room was indeed luxurious — a grand canopy bed draped in silk, an intricately carved sandalwood tea table, and a large window overlooking the rain-drenched city. But the splendor felt false, as if a thin layer of illusion concealed something sinister beneath.
He approached the window, watching the rain slide down the glass. The once-glorious Xiao City now looked gloomy beneath the dark sky. The sense of dread he'd felt since entering only grew stronger. He placed a hand against the wall, sensing faint spiritual energy pulsing beneath the surface — distorted, not tranquil.
"A sealing formation?" Hun Yao thought, frowning. "Or… something else?"
He channeled a bit of Qi into his eyes, trying to pierce through illusions. Though the walls looked solid, they radiated a faint trace of darkness — almost invisible to the naked eye. This was no ordinary inn.
Hun Yao decided not to rest. He sat cross-legged in the center of the room, closed his eyes, and began circulating his Qi through his meridians. He wanted to ensure his body was in peak condition — ready for whatever was coming. The energy from the pill he'd swallowed still churned within his dantian, granting him power he had yet to fully understand.
Night deepened. The sound of rain grew heavier, mingling with faint creaks from the floors above and below. Suddenly, he heard soft footsteps in the corridor — stopping right in front of his door. Hun Yao's heart pounded. He held his breath, every sense sharpened.
The steps dragged slowly, as if someone was shuffling without lifting their feet. Then came a scraping sound — like long nails scratching the door.
Hun Yao's eyes snapped open, gleaming with cold light. He rose silently, gripping his sword. Qi roared inside him, ready to explode at any moment. He pressed his ear to the door.
Silence.
Yet from the other side, he felt a chilling aura seeping through — not human, but the same deathly energy he'd sensed from corpses in the forest, only much thicker and more dreadful.
Then, three slow knocks echoed. Tok. Tok. Tok.
"Sir… do you need anything?" The receptionist's voice came from beyond the door — but now it was hoarse, unnatural, as if forced through unwilling lips.
Hun Yao didn't answer. He knew this was no ordinary question. It was a test.
Silence returned. Then, the dragging footsteps faded slowly into the dark corridor.
He waited for several minutes, ensuring the danger had passed. He knew he couldn't sleep here. He had to uncover the truth. Moving to the window, he cracked it open. The rain still fell — but something outside caught his eye.
In the glimmer of spirit lanterns, several figures moved along the wet street below. Their movements were stiff, jerky, and from them emanated that same cold, deathly aura.
"Undead?" Hun Yao whispered. "Or… cultivators under control?"
The dread he'd felt since entering the Xia Ni Inn now solidified into grim certainty. This place was a trap. He needed to find a way out — and perhaps uncover the dark secret hiding beneath Xiao Kingdom's grandeur.
He turned from the window, gaze fixed on the door. The same question gnawed at him: Who sealed my meridians?
And now, a new one: Who controls this inn?
Dawn broke, scattering the night's darkness with silvery light spilling through the window. Hun Yao opened his eyes, not a trace of exhaustion on his face. He had spent the entire night in alert meditation, Qi circulating smoothly through his veins, every sense sharp. The faint cold aura still lingered in the air — a reminder of the lurking danger.
"The Xia Ni Inn…" he muttered, rising to his feet. "Not a place of rest — but a den of demons."
He walked to the window, gazing upon the city bathed in morning light. The rain had ceased, leaving the streets glistening. In the distance, the grand walls of Xiao stood majestic as ever — yet now they seemed like a mask hiding rot beneath. How could a powerful sixth-tier nation allow such evil to exist within its heart? Or… was this darkness part of their own hidden design?
Hun Yao sheathed his sword but kept his hand ready. He decided not to leave yet. His instincts told him something here mattered — something perhaps connected to his sealed meridians, or even the mysterious pill that granted him his breakthrough. He needed more information.
He opened the door carefully, peering down the corridor. Empty. The morning air felt unnaturally cold. Moving silently, he walked the hall, sensing every ripple of spiritual energy.
As he passed several other rooms, faint life auras pulsed behind the doors — but they were strange. Hollow. Like shells without souls. Exactly like the corpses of the hunters in the forest.
"They're not dead," Hun Yao thought grimly. "They're being controlled."
He reached the stairs and descended the same creaking steps. The main hall below was brighter but still eerily quiet. Tables and chairs sat perfectly arranged, as if untouched. The masked receptionist stood behind the counter again, her posture rigid, her aura as cold as before.
Hun Yao approached. "Good morning," he said, trying to sound casual.
She turned toward him, eyes glinting faintly behind the mask. "Good morning, sir. Did you sleep well?" Her tone was polite as ever — but now Hun Yao could hear it clearly: a deeper undertone, like a whisper from the dark.
"Quite well," Hun Yao replied, studying her closely. "I wanted to ask — is there a place in this city where one can buy information about ancient artifacts or rare elixirs?" He asked a harmless question, testing her reaction.
The receptionist tilted her head slightly. "Of course, sir. In the city center lies the Jade Spirit Market. You can find nearly anything there. But be cautious — that place swarms with tricksters."
"Thank you," Hun Yao said. Something still felt wrong. Her answer was normal, but her presence… wasn't.
As he turned to leave, his gaze caught something behind the counter — an old book bound in cracked leather. A strange symbol was etched on its cover, one that tugged at his memory, though he couldn't recall from where.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" she asked quickly, her tone rising — almost as if to distract him.
"No, that's all," Hun Yao replied calmly, masking his curiosity. He turned and walked toward the exit.
Stepping outside, he inhaled the fresh morning air — a small relief. But the danger was far from over. The Xia Ni Inn was clearly a node within something larger.
He walked down the street, feigning the air of a wandering traveler, his eyes scanning every corner. He saw several other cultivators wandering aimlessly, their faces pale, their eyes hollow — puppets without will. These must be the "newcomers who died horribly" the food vendor had mentioned. They weren't dead — they were being controlled.
"What kind of sect dares commit such acts within Xiao Kingdom?" Hun Yao thought. "And how are they connected to that inn?"
He eventually arrived at the Jade Spirit Market — a bustling maze of stalls selling every kind of spiritual good. The air was thick with the scents of herbs, incense, and molten metal. Hun Yao searched for a stall dealing in ancient texts or information.
He found a small booth cluttered with scrolls and old tomes. Its keeper was an elderly man with a long white beard and wise, weary eyes.
"Welcome, young one," the old man rasped. "Seeking knowledge?"
"I'm looking for information about an ancient symbol," said Hun Yao, describing the one he had seen on the receptionist's book.
The old man listened intently — then his eyes widened slightly. "That symbol… it's the seal of the Nightshade Sect — a sect long thought extinct, known for their arts of soul manipulation and corpse control."
Hun Yao's heart skipped. "The Nightshade Sect?"
"Yes. They were cruel cultivators who used human souls as fuel for their dark rituals. But they were wiped out hundreds of years ago." The old man eyed him warily. "Why are you asking about them, young man? You aren't involved with them, are you?"
"No," Hun Yao said quickly. "I'm merely curious about history."
The old man nodded, though suspicion lingered in his eyes. "Be careful, young one. Some things are best left buried."
Hun Yao thanked him and left the stall, his thoughts racing. The Nightshade Sect… soul control… undead puppets.
The pieces were fitting together. The Xia Ni Inn was their base — and the masked receptionist, one of them… or perhaps their leader.
He had to leave Xiao Kingdom quickly. Yet he knew he couldn't just flee. If the Nightshade Sect had truly resurfaced under the nose of Xiao's rulers, it meant they possessed great power — or worse, influence within the kingdom itself.
Hun Yao touched his dantian. The pill he had swallowed — the one that gave him his breakthrough — might not be ordinary. It could be connected to the Nightshade Sect… or perhaps the very key to destroying them.