Han Yu strutted through the sect marketplace like a man who had never known poverty or fear. His robes fluttered dramatically—because he'd dabbed the corners with some wind-dispersing incense he bought from an old granny just to look cool.
The three gold coins in his pouch clinked together like a holy choir singing, "Treat yourself, King."
First stop? Food.
He approached a famous food stall run by a retired cultivator known only as Granny Dumplings. She once cut a spirit boar in half mid-leap and now sold dumplings so good they made grown Foundation Establishment cultivators weep.
She was one of the many cultivators in the sect who didn't exactly have proper talent for cultivation. She had been an outer court disciple but had never managed to reach the Inner Court due to lacking and eventually retired to work in the Sect's Market.
"One plate of dumplings with chili lightning sauce," Han Yu declared confidently, slapping down a silver coin like it didn't hurt his soul a little.
