The clerk looked up from his ledger, eyes calm and professional.
"What kind of room will you be taking, miss?" he asked. "A standard room… or a star-rated one?"
"A three-star room," the fox replied without hesitation.
The clerk paused briefly, then nodded.
"A three-star room will be **three low-grade spirit stones of normal quality per night**."
"I'll be staying for a week," the fox said.
The clerk performed a quick calculation, fingers tapping lightly against the counter.
"In that case, the total will be **twenty-one spirit stones**."
The fox frowned faintly.
"…Isn't that twenty?"
The clerk shook his head patiently.
"No. Three stones per night for seven nights. That makes twenty-one."
The fox clicked its tongue.
"…Alright."
From the clerk's perspective, the woman reached into her sleeve and let the stones fall onto the counter in a neat cluster. The faint clink echoed softly through the pavilion.
The clerk carefully counted them—once, then again—before nodding.
"Twenty-one. Correct."
He retrieved a small jade talisman etched with flowing runes and slid it across the counter.
"Here is your **jade room token**," he said. "It will guide you to your room and grant you access. Please keep it on you at all times."
The fox accepted it, glancing down as the talisman pulsed faintly in her hand.
"Make sure my food is brought on time," she said casually, already turning away.
"Of course," the clerk replied smoothly. "Enjoy your stay at Moonveil Rest Pavilion."
The woman walked off toward the inner corridors, her steps unhurried.
Above her head, unseen, the lizard shifted slightly—wine secured, a private room waiting, and recovery finally within reach.
---
The fox padded down the quiet corridor, the **jade token held gently in its jaws**, its steps light against the polished floor. With a flicker of intent, it sent a voice transmission upward.
*Now let's find the room. This won't take long—but first, the second floor.*
Turning smoothly, the fox ascended the staircase. The air changed as it reached the upper level—thicker, calmer, threaded with faint spiritual pressure designed to deter trouble. The second-floor corridor stretched ahead, empty and silent, lantern light reflecting softly off the walls.
The fox walked forward at an unhurried pace.
*Now that we're here,* it continued, *all I need to do is inject a bit of energy into the jade token. It'll guide us.*
A pulse of controlled spiritual energy flowed from the fox into the jade clenched between its jaws.
The talisman glowed. Runes awakened one by one, and a thin beam of light extended forward—silent, precise—pointing the way.
The fox followed.
Step by step, the beam led it down the corridor.
Then it stopped.
The fox halted as well.
There was **no door**.
No markings. No seams. Only a smooth, unbroken wall of pale stone.
The fox tilted its head slightly, unimpressed.
With precise control, it lifted the jade token from its jaws using spiritual energy and pressed it gently against the wall.
The moment jade touched stone—
The wall **rippled**.
Like water disturbed by a falling leaf, the surface distorted outward in concentric waves. Runes flashed briefly beneath the stone skin, then faded as a thin line of pale light traced itself across the wall, spreading outward in a quiet arc. Ancient symbols surfaced one after another, their glow muted so as not to draw attention.
With a low, resonant *thrum*, the wall folded inward.
Not shattered.
Not broken.
It **parted**.
A doorway emerged where there had been none, revealing a short passage bathed in dim silver light. At the end of it stood a door made of dark wood, veined with jade-green patterns. Three small star-shaped sigils were carved neatly above the frame.
The fox paused, ears twitching.
"Three-star rooms," it sent calmly through voice transmission. "Hidden from ordinary sight. Even foundation cultivators who don't belong here would walk past without realizing."
The lizard remained crouched atop the fox's head, blind eyes facing forward, tongue flicking once as it tasted the air.
The fox stepped through the passage. The wall sealed behind them without a sound, leaving no trace that they had ever been there.
The jade token floated free from the fox's jaws and pressed itself against the door.
*Click.*
The sigils flared briefly—then faded.
The door opened on its own.
---
Inside, the space opened into a **spacious, refined chamber**, far larger than the corridor outside suggested.
A wide bed crafted from polished wood rested against one wall, its sheets clean and faintly infused with warmth-regulating runes. Nearby, a low table sat atop a woven mat, smooth and unmarked, clearly maintained with care. Shelves lined the walls, holding neatly arranged necessities—simple low-grade talismans for privacy, a water basin carved from pale stone, and a small incense stand releasing a calming, barely perceptible fragrance.
Everything was **clean**.
Not sterile—but deliberately tended, as if designed for long stays rather than fleeting visits.
Soft light filtered from concealed formations embedded in the ceiling, casting a gentle glow without revealing its source. The air itself felt settled, undisturbed by outside noise or presence.
The door sealed behind them with a muted hum as layers of protective formations settled into place.
For the first time since the battle, there was no blood.
No shouting.
No oppressive pressure from hostile Qi.
Just stillness.
A faint formation hum filled the room—steady, reassuring.
Privacy.
Security.
Silence.
The fox stepped inside and finally relaxed its posture.
"Good," it said. "No surveillance formations inside the room itself. Moonveil doesn't spy on paying guests."
The lizard shifted, clutching its pouch, then slowly climbed down from the fox's head and landed atop the table. Its maw opened slightly, saliva already beginning to bead again.
The fox set the jade token down beside it and allowed its tail to sway once as it fully relaxed, no longer needing to speak through voice transmission.
"You don't need to worry about privacy or safety here," it said calmly. "It might not look like much, but this entire room is layered with formations."
It lifted a paw and tapped the floor lightly.
"**Concealment. Defensive barriers. Sound-canceling arrays.** Several of them, stacked together. Even if someone outside tried probing with divine sense, all they'd feel is empty space."
Its ears twitched, irritation briefly coloring its tone.
"That's why it costs so damn much. You're not paying for the bed or the room—you're paying for the formations and the person who maintains them."
The fox glanced at the lizard.
"As long as we stay inside, no one will know what you are, what you're doing, or what you're eating."
A brief pause.
"So if you're going to drink all that wine, molt, recover, or do something… *strange*—this is the best place for it."
The room remained silent, formations humming faintly as they sealed them away from the Night Market beyond.
The lizard crouched on the table, the pouch beside it, staring blankly ahead as it licked its maw.
"…Wine," it muttered.
The fox huffed, amusement threading through its thoughts.
"Fine."
With a flick of energy, the door sealed completely. Multiple layers of light shimmered briefly, then faded—defensive and sound-isolation formations locking firmly into place.
Only then did the fox speak again.
"Drink. Eat. Recover your vision."
It glanced at the lizard, eyes sharp but satisfied.
"You've earned that much, at least."