Yanwei exhaled softly through his nose—a quiet, measured breath. Not relief. Not exhaustion. Just habit.
A mental reset.
He always did this—before decisions, before conflict, before anything that demanded clarity.
Emotions had their place. But not here. Not now.
His mind cleared. Focus realigned.
And just like that, he was himself again.
He stepped toward the door, fingers brushing the handle—about to leave and find something to eat.
Then he paused.
Something shifted.
A flicker in the air. A strange stillness pressing down, almost imperceptible.
He vanished.
Gone in an instant—no footsteps, no sound.
Seconds later, he reappeared in the exact same spot.
But now—in his arms—was a small, black cat.
The cat breathed weakly in his arms, its chest rising and falling in slow, uneven rhythms.
Yanwei's eyes narrowed in surprise—it shouldn't have survived. Not with wounds like that.
The cat's muscles twitched, a faint tension rippling beneath its fur. It didn't lash out or hiss, but its wary eyes flicked to him—alert, guarded, quietly defiant despite its exhaustion.
For a long moment, their gazes locked.
"…Stubborn thing," Yanwei muttered, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.
The cat's tail flicked once, barely—a subtle sign of life and stubborn will.
Yanwei tightened his grip slightly, then carefully set the cat down on the floor.
It didn't try to run, only lowered its body closer to the ground, muscles still tense.
He crouched down slowly, eyes scanning the small creature. Despite its injuries, there was a fierce spark in its gaze — like it was waiting for him to make the next move.
For a brief moment, Yanwei considered speaking to it, but thought better of it. Words were useless here.
Instead, he just watched. Quiet. Patient.
His mind was clear now — no distractions, no emotional noise. Just cold, steady focus.
The cat blinked once, then slowly shifted its weight, testing its strength.
The cat's muscles tensed again, a low, almost inaudible growl slipping from its throat.
Its eyes narrowed sharply, glaring up at Yanwei with a flicker of defiance.
But when it tried to rise, its legs trembled beneath it, barely able to support its weight.
The growl died in its throat as exhaustion took over, and the cat sank back down, curling slightly to protect itself.
It wasn't threatening—just warning, a faint echo of its fighting spirit despite its weakness.
Yanwei's lips curled into a small, amused smile.
"What are you going to do?" he teased softly, reaching out to lightly touch the cat's head.
The cat flinched but didn't snap or bite.
"Gonna bite me, huh?" Yanwei chuckled, shaking his head. "Stand properly first, then we'll talk."
The cat blinked slowly, as if considering the challenge, but remained curled up, too weak to argue.
Yanwei laughed quietly, the sound low and genuine—a brief moment of warmth in the cold quiet.
….
Yanwei gave the cat one last glance and muttered, "I'll be back."
The cat blinked, ears twitching slightly as if confused—unsure what that meant.
But Yanwei didn't explain. He stood, turned, and opened the door.
The moment he stepped out, his brow furrowed.
Too many people.
The tavern's hallway, usually quiet this time of day, was oddly active—footsteps, distant shuffling, snippets of conversation bleeding through the wooden floorboards.
He descended the stairs, and the moment he reached the main hall, the air felt thick—crowded tables, half-shouted voices, and more cultivators than usual lingering by the walls or pacing around with tense expressions.
He eyed them briefly but said nothing.
Making his way to the front counter, he raised a hand slightly. "Food. A lot. One plate of Ironfire Beef, Double-Spiced Root Rice, steamed Voidleaf rolls. And milk."
Leaning against the counter, Yanwei frowned, his mind still foggy with questions. The tavern buzzed like a hive gone wild—voices rising and falling in a chaotic storm.
"Did you hear about the auction last night? Insane! Someone threw away half a city's fortune just to secure a chance at that test!"
"No way! The Moonlit Pavilion's really doing it? The second talent test?"
"Bound for life if you pass! Forever trapped in their contract! Who'd ever agree to that?"
The words flew through the air, shouted, whispered, and argued over with wild eyes and frantic gestures.
"People are terrified. This changes everything. No one's safe anymore!"
"It's madness! You risk everything — your freedom, your future — for a chance that might kill you!"
Yanwei's eyes darted between the groups, confusion knotting in his chest. He'd heard bits and pieces before, but this… this was different. The panic, the desperation—they painted a clearer picture.
His mind struggled to catch up.
What was this test really about? Why was everyone so afraid?
Voices clashed around him, some trembling with fear, others burning with greed or anger, drowning each other out.
Yanwei's head throbbed as the pieces fell into place, the rumors weaving a tapestry of dread and uncertainty.
So this was the storm brewing beneath the surface.
A young attendant with sharp eyes and swift movements approached the counter, nodding respectfully at Yanwei before handing over a tray piled with steaming Ironfire Beef, Double-Spiced Root Rice, Voidleaf rolls, and a tall cup of milk.
"Your order, sir," the attendant said quietly, then slipped away to tend other guests.
Yanwei took the tray, his fingers tightening around the edge as the noise and chatter swirled around him.
He stepped away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner to sit. The murmurs, the heated discussions, the rumors—they all pressed against his mind, refusing to let him think clearly.
"So much happened while I was gone?" His brows drew together—not in confusion, but in deep contemplation.
"I thought they wouldn't explain what the second talent truly is. After all, their only gain would be to drive the price higher—"
"—and since that item was practically in Tyr's pocket, I figured they wouldn't care about those who didn't know."
"But the Moonlit Pavilion testing it? That's… unexpected."
"They're a massive organization. What the hell is going on?"
"To the point that they have to manipulate people from unknown territories just to inject new blood into their ranks?"
"They could just announce they want disciples. People from everywhere would flock in. It would shake the cultivation world."
"So why?"
"What's the plan of the Moonlit Pavilion?"
He looked down at the food in front of him, but his appetite had vanished. The storm outside mirrored the storm growing inside his mind—a puzzle he had to solve, piece by piece, because if he was going to get caught up in this chaos, he needed to understand it.