Alfir
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004 Research
🕑 Added 2025-02-19 03:17:50 +0000 UTCTo an extent, I have an idea what kind of world this was… but again, I am not big on Xianxia.
Morning arrived, casting golden light over the city and washing away the lingering coolness of the night. The air carried the rich aroma of sizzling street food, freshly brewed tea, and the faint traces of incense. The once-quiet streets had transformed into a sea of movement, alive with the voices of merchants, travelers, and cultivators alike.
Silk banners fluttered overhead as vendors called out their wares—embroidered robes woven with dragon motifs, charms said to ward off calamity, and rare medicinal ingredients promising breakthroughs in cultivation. The melodies of guqins and pipas wove through the air, mingling with the lively chatter of the crowd.
Among them walked nobles clad in flowing brocades, their steps unhurried beneath the shade of servants’ parasols. Cultivators, some in resplendent sect robes and others in humble travel attire, moved with quiet confidence, weapons resting at their backs. Common folk wove through the throng, laughing children darting between their legs, clutching paper lanterns shaped like mythical beasts.
I took my time, observing. A festival of this scale wasn’t just a celebration—it was an opportunity. With so many gathered here, knowledge flowed as freely as wine. If there were secrets to be uncovered, whispers of distant sects or forgotten legacies, they would surface in a place like this.
Still, my mind drifted back to Liang Na.
She had called me a junior in cultivation, which meant she had misjudged my strength. That was good.
To be fair, it wasn’t entirely her fault. My abilities didn’t rely on qi—the essence by which cultivators measured one another’s prowess. To them, I likely seemed like a privileged young master with a respectable grasp of martial arts but nothing extraordinary.
That suited me just fine.
If others underestimated me, I could use it to my advantage—slipping past scrutiny or catching opponents off guard. But it also had its drawbacks. There were times when authority mattered, and if I was dismissed outright, maneuvering through certain situations would become far more difficult.
I sighed. Something to consider.
For now, my focus remained on gathering information. If anything in this city could grant me insight—a clue to navigating this unfamiliar world—it would be buried somewhere within the festival’s chaos.
I strolled through the streets, blending into the crowd as I listened.
Near a teahouse, a group of young scholars admired the city’s architecture.
“This is my first time in Yellow Dragon City,” one said, adjusting the jade hairpin in his neatly bound hair. “The craftsmanship here is unparalleled. Even the capital cannot compare.”
Another nodded. “The artisans are directly sponsored by the City Lord’s family. It is said they recruit talent from all corners of the continent.”
Nearby, a woman in a traveling cloak paused at a vendor’s stall, inspecting a collection of finely painted fans. As she ran her fingers over the delicate patterns, she hummed thoughtfully.
“I hear the festival is grander than usual this year,” she mused. “The City Lord must be trying to impress someone.”
The vendor, an elderly man with a long white beard, chuckled. “You’re not wrong, miss. Cultivators from major sects have already arrived. Some say a great opportunity awaits in the city—though what form it takes, no one knows.”
A great opportunity?
A few paces ahead, two young men in traveling garb huddled over bowls of steaming noodles, speaking in hushed yet eager tones.
“I heard the auction house will be displaying an ancient artifact this time,” one said between bites. “Something tied to a sect that vanished centuries ago.”
His companion scoffed. “You believe every rumor you hear. What are the chances of that being true?”
“I don’t know, but a friend of mine saw elders from the Cloud Mist Sect arrive last night. They wouldn’t come all this way for nothing.”
I frowned slightly.
That was the second time I’d heard mention of something beyond the festival itself drawing cultivators to the city. A mere coincidence?
Or was this the lead I had been searching for?
I continued my stroll, filing away every scrap of information.
At the very least, I now understood that Yellow Dragon City was no ordinary settlement. It was a convergence point—where the influential and the ambitious crossed paths. That meant ignorance was not a luxury I could afford.
If I wished to carve a place for myself in this world, I needed knowledge. Of cultivation, of sects and their hierarchies, of power and the subtle ways it shifted hands.
A breakthrough would come soon enough.
For now, I needed only to keep my eyes open.
And, as if the heavens wished to test my resolve, my first real lesson came in the least expected way.
Not through careful study. Not through patient observation.
No—fate, ever amused at my expense, delivered my opportunity in the form of a robbery.
The alley was dimly lit, far removed from the festival’s brilliance. The scent of damp wood and aged stone filled the air. Behind me, the distant hum of merriment continued as if the world beyond this narrow passage was untouched by what was about to unfold.
Before me stood a figure clad in ragged garments, a dark cloth obscuring their face. Their eyes—sharp, glinting with hostility—locked onto me with the keen focus of a predator.
A knife quivered on the wall beside me, its blade buried deep into the brick.
A casual throw? Hardly. A strike like that belonged to one who had stepped onto the path of cultivation.
I exhaled slowly. This wasn’t quite how I expected to gain insight into this world, but I wasn’t about to complain. If nothing else, I wouldn’t feel guilty about using this as a lesson.
And, if the heavens were kind, perhaps I could even help rehabilitate this fool.
The bandit rolled their shoulders, stepping closer. “Tch. You’re slow to react, Young Master. Most would already be on their knees, begging.”
I kept my expression neutral. “And what exactly am I supposed to beg for?”
“Your life, of course.” A hand tapped the hilt of another knife. “Strip. Leave your robes, your valuables, your storage ring. Do so, and I might just let you walk away.”
Straight to the point. Efficient, if nothing else.
I folded my arms. “Let me understand this correctly. You want me to strip, surrender all that I own, and then you will consider sparing my life?”
The bandit grinned beneath the mask. “That’s the idea.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Huh. Interesting.”
And then—
I vanished.
For an instant, the world blurred. The next, I stood behind them.
Flash Step. A simple movement technique, but enough to remind those weaker than me of their place.
The bandit stiffened, instincts screaming a warning, but it was already too late.
Thud.
A single push sent them stumbling forward, nearly slamming into the dead-end wall of the alley. I heard the sharp intake of breath—the moment panic began to take hold.
Before they could fully turn, I leaned in, repeating their own words back to them.
“Strip.” My voice was low, measured. “Surrender your valuables, your storage ring, and perhaps—just perhaps—I will spare you.”
The bandit froze.
Then, to my utter disbelief—
They actually started stripping.
I blinked. Wait. What?
Hands trembling, they fumbled with their ragged clothing. Their breath hitched, body taut with fear.
I had meant it as a lesson, a way to flip the script and return the humiliation they had intended for me. But the sheer terror in their reaction… there was no bravado, no defiance—only desperation.
This world must be a truly wretched place.
“P-please, Senior!” the bandit cried, suddenly dropping to their knees. “I—I have no treasures! No storage ring! I was just trying to survive! Spare me, and I will do anything! Anything!”
I barely processed their words before realizing something else.
She.
Now that I was looking, the signs were obvious. Beneath the layers of grime and oversized clothing, her frame was lean but not without its curves. Her voice, though roughened by hardship, carried a distinctly feminine lilt. The balaclava and baggy garments had concealed it well, but there was no mistaking it now.
And there she was, kowtowing before me, forehead pressed against the cold, filthy stone.
I exhaled slowly.
Well.
Now I felt like an absolute bastard.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I let out a long sigh, rubbing my temple. This was not how I had imagined this would go.
I had been expecting some low-level thug—someone I could rough up a little, pry for information, and leave in a crumpled heap. A simple, straightforward bandit interrogation.
Instead, I had cornered what looked like a half-starved woman, trembling on the ground like a stray dog expecting to be kicked.
I glanced at her again, taking in the full picture.
Thin. Not quite skeletal, but malnourished enough that it was obvious even through the layers of ragged clothing. Her arms were wrapped in old, tattered bandages, and the skin that peeked through was rough and calloused—the kind that came from too many fights and too little rest.
Was this really a cultivator?
If she was, she was a weak one. Perhaps she had some minor cultivation—just enough to sharpen her reflexes and enhance her body—but compared to someone like Liang Na, she might as well have been a commoner.
Just my luck.
I exhaled through my nose. “No need to disrobe.”
She flinched at my voice, but after a pause, she slowly lifted her head.
“Get up,” I said.
Hesitation flickered across her face before she obeyed, pushing herself up onto her knees. Her hands remained clasped together in silent pleading, her breathing still uneven.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
Her head remained bowed, but she answered quickly, her voice small. “Gu Jie.”
I sighed again.
This is going to be a pain.
Still… she was the best source of information I had.
