The streets of Mist City were bustling with life. Hawkers shouted the prices of vegetables, blacksmiths hammered hot iron, and carriages rumbled over the cobblestones.
For Uncle Hwan, this noise was terrifying. He walked a step behind Kaelen, his head bowed low, clutching the edges of his worn-out grey robe. He felt like a stain on a silk painting.
"Young Master," Hwan whispered nervously, eyeing the large, intimidating building ahead. "Are you sure? The Violet Gold Pavilion is for... for important people. They might throw us out."
Kaelen stopped. He turned and adjusted Hwan's collar, smoothing out a wrinkle.
"Important people?" Kaelen smiled faintly. "Uncle, importance is not defined by the silk you wear, but by the fire in your soul. Raise your head. Today, we are not beggars. We are kings coming to collect tribute."
They stood before the Violet Gold Pavilion. It was a magnificent five-story pagoda, glowing with enchantment arrays. Two massive stone tigers guarded the entrance, their eyes embedded with real rubies.
"Halt!"
A guard in golden armor stepped forward, blocking their path with a spear. He looked Kaelen up and down, his nose wrinkling at Kaelen's simple, faded clothes.
"This is a place of high trade, not a charity house," the guard sneered. "Go beg on the western street."
Hwan flinched, instinctively stepping back. This was the treatment he was used to.
Kaelen didn't get angry. He didn't even look at the guard. He simply reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, purple-gold object.
He flicked it into the air.
Cling.
The guard caught it. He looked at the object in his palm—a token engraved with a Violet Lotus.
The guard's face went pale. His sneer vanished instantly, replaced by a look of sheer panic. This wasn't just a guest token; it was a personal token of Miss Jiara, the Chief Appraiser.
"I... I apologize, Young Master!" The guard bowed so low his helmet almost hit the ground. "Please, forgive my blindness! Miss Jiara is expecting you on the top floor."
Kaelen walked past him without a word.
"Let's go, Uncle."
Hwan hurried after him, his eyes wide. He looked at Kaelen's back and wondered, 'When did the Young Master become so... heavy? Even without speaking, he makes people bow.'
...
The Top Floor - VIP Room.
The room smelled of sandalwood and expensive orchids. The floor was covered in fur carpets that cost more than Kaelen's entire house.
Jiara sat on a velvet couch, sipping tea from a translucent jade cup. She wasn't wearing her veil today.
Her face was dangerously beautiful. Her skin was like porcelain, her lips red like cherries, but her eyes—those fox-like eyes—were sharp and calculating. She wore a tight purple dress that hugged her curves, revealing just enough to be distracting, but covering enough to remain mysterious.
"You actually came," Jiara put down her cup. She looked at Kaelen, then at the nervous old man behind him. "And you brought family. How... quaint."
"I brought my conscience," Kaelen corrected, sitting down on the opposite couch comfortably. He gestured for Hwan to sit. Hwan hesitated, terrified of dirtying the furniture, but Kaelen's look gave him courage.
Jiara picked up a piece of paper from the table. It was the recipe Kaelen had sent earlier.
"The Meridian Cleansing Pill," Jiara said, her tone serious. "I had my alchemists look at this formula. They said it's impossible. This method... it uses 'Cold Fire' to refine 'Hot Herbs'. It contradicts the basic laws of alchemy."
"Basic laws are for basic people," Kaelen replied calmly. "The alchemists in this city are frogs in a well. They only see the circle of sky above them. They don't know the vastness of the ocean."
Jiara leaned forward. Her perfume, a scent of wild roses and danger, wafted toward him.
"You talk big for a boy with no money," she teased. "If this recipe fails, you know I can have you killed for wasting my time, right?"
"It won't fail."
"Prove it."
"I don't need to," Kaelen leaned back. "You already tried it. That's why there is a faint smell of Star-Leaf Ash on your fingers. You tried to refine it yourself before I came, didn't you?"
Jiara froze. She looked at her manicured fingers. There was indeed a microscopic trace of grey ash.
She stared at Kaelen. Silence stretched between them.
Then, she burst out laughing. It was a rich, throaty laugh of delight.
"You are a monster," she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "You are absolutely right. I tried it. And it worked. The purity was 30% higher than the market standard. This recipe... is a gold mine."
"Fifty-fifty," Kaelen said.
"Seventy-thirty," Jiara countered instantly. "I provide the ingredients, the alchemy furnace, and the sales network. You just provide the paper."
"Sixty-forty," Kaelen said. "And I provide something else."
"What?"
Kaelen looked at her. He activated his Dragon Eyes—an invisible technique that allowed him to see the flow of Qi in others.
"I provide a cure," Kaelen lowered his voice. "For the Ice Poison in your dantian that wakes you up every night at 3 AM with shivering pain."
Crash.
Jiara's jade cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.
The playfulness vanished from her face. A terrifying aura exploded from her body. The air in the room became heavy and cold.
"Who sent you?" she hissed, her hand glowing with violet energy, ready to strike. "No one knows about my condition. Not even the Pavilion Lord. If you are a spy..."
Hwan whimpered, covering his head.
Kaelen remained unmoved. He picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup.
"I am not a spy, Jiara. I am a doctor who sees what others miss. Your cultivation technique is flawed. You practice the 'Violet Yin Art', but your body has a 'Yang' constitution. The conflict is killing you slowly."
He took a sip of tea.
"Sixty-forty. And I will write you a mantra to suppress the pain within three days."
Jiara stared at him. Her chest heaved. She searched his eyes for deceit, but found only the calmness of a deep, ancient abyss.
Slowly, the violet energy faded from her hand. She slumped back onto the couch, looking defeated but relieved.
"Deal," she whispered. "Sixty-forty. And you give me that mantra today."
Kaelen nodded. "Done."
He stood up. "Now, for the advance payment. I need three things."
"Name them."
"First, herbs for my cultivation. Second, a quiet mansion near the city outskirts."
"And the third?"
Kaelen turned to Hwan.
"Uncle, show her your leg."
Hwan was startled. "Young Master? My leg is fine! We don't need to waste money on—"
"Show her," Kaelen commanded gently.
Hwan rolled up his trouser leg. The knee was twisted and swollen.
"I want the Supreme Bone-Knitting Pill," Kaelen said to Jiara. "The best quality you have."
Jiara raised an eyebrow. "That pill costs 500 Gold Coins. That is enough to buy a small village. You want to use your first profit... on a servant?"
She looked at Kaelen with disbelief. In the world of cultivation, servants were disposable tools. No one wasted high-grade medicine on an old man with no talent.
Kaelen looked at her, his eyes cold and serious.
"He is not a servant," Kaelen said, his voice echoing with power. "He is my family. And in my eyes, his leg is worth more than this entire Pavilion."
Jiara felt a strange thump in her chest. She looked at the boy—arrogant, mysterious, dangerous—and then at the tenderness he showed the old man.
A blush crept up her neck. 'A man who cherishes loyalty... is a rare breed.'
She stood up and walked to a cabinet. She pulled out a blue jade box and tossed it to Kaelen.
"Take it. It's on the house," Jiara said, looking away to hide her expression. "Consider it a gift to seal our partnership."
Kaelen caught the box. He didn't check it. He trusted her pride.
He knelt down in front of Hwan.
"Eat this, Uncle. Right now."
Hwan held the pill with trembling hands. "Young Master... this is too much. I am old. I will die soon anyway. You should use the money to get stronger..."
"If you don't eat it," Kaelen threatened playfully, "I will throw it out the window."
Hwan hurriedly popped the pill into his mouth.
Almost instantly, a soft blue light enveloped his knee. The twisted bones cracked and realigned. The swelling vanished.
"It... it feels hot," Hwan gasped. He stood up. He took a step. Then another. No pain. No limp.
He looked at Kaelen, tears streaming down his wrinkled face again. "Young Master..."
"Don't cry, Uncle," Kaelen stood up and patted the old man's shoulder. "We have a lot of shopping to do. I need you to carry the bags. Can you do it?"
Hwan wiped his tears and puffed out his chest, standing straighter than he had in twenty years. "I can carry the whole mountain for you, Young Master!"
Jiara watched them from the side, a soft, unreadable smile on her lips.
"Kaelen," she called out as they turned to leave.
Kaelen paused at the door.
"The City Auction is in three days," she said. "There is an item listed that might interest you. A piece of an ancient map found in the Endless Sea."
Kaelen's pupils constricted. The Endless Sea. Where his mother was.
"I will be there," Kaelen said.
"Be careful," Jiara warned, her voice low. "The First Elder will be there too. And he has hired the Shadow Blade Mercenaries. The road ahead is not paved with gold, Kaelen. It is paved with blood."
Kaelen smiled. It was the smile of a predator who had just spotted prey.
"Let them come," he whispered. "My sword has been thirsty for a long time."
He walked out into the sunlight, leaving the dark, scented room behind. But the game had changed. He now had resources. He had a partner. And he had a destination.
The Dragon was no longer just waking up. He was beginning to hunt.