Inside the moving carriage, Princess Hua Xiang felt a smile tug at her lips.
"I knew he wouldn't die so easily," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Amusement glinted in her eyes. "He's even brazen enough to still go by Jian, even though it's now a given name."
A soft giggle slipped past her lips.
"That's so Jian Yu," she thought inwardly, shaking her head.
Outside the carriage, Jian wiped the sweat from his brow, releasing a long breath of relief.
"Pheww... that was a close one."
He adjusted his robe, trying to keep his composure.
"Let's resume our destination," he said to Mo Heng, who bowed and promptly opened the door to the carriage.
The wheels began turning once more.
What Jian didn't know, however, was that his brief encounter with Princess Hua Xiang had already begun to spiral beyond control.
What started as a whisper now took flight across the kingdom—spreading like wildfire.
Rumors painted him as the commoner who dined with royalty.
A nobody... who now had the ears—and eyes—of a princess.
Far away, in a dark, incense-heavy chamber, a lone figure in crimson robes sat surrounded by shadows. His features were hidden, save for the gleam in his eyes.
He held a thin slip of parchment between two fingers, reading the latest report.
"Hmm... Lady Lou Xue was right," he muttered to himself, his voice cold and thoughtful. "If he knows the princess... then my curiosity is piqued. Who else might he know in the royal family?"
His gaze flicked toward the darkness beside him.
"Bao Ren. Jin Wuye."
Two figures appeared from thin air, silent and swift, dressed in shadow.
"Yes, my Lord," they echoed in unison, kneeling.
"Take some men," the red-robed figure said, standing slowly. "And deal with our little... problem."
"Yes, Lord," the two shadows said in unison—then vanished, as if they had never been there at all.
No footsteps. No sound.
---
Back in the capital, Jian arrived at his next destination: the Heaven's Protection Guild.
He stepped down from the carriage, brushing a few creases off his sleeve as he looked up at the massive stone building before him. The structure was regal—made of dark marble veined with silver—and loomed like a fortress among common buildings.
At the front stood a tall sculpture: a large shield with two spears crossed in an X, their tips gleaming under the sunlight. Flanking the shield were two seated figures carved into stone, both men sitting in the lotus position, eyes closed in eternal vigilance.
Jian smirked faintly.
"Poetic... for hired muscle."
He strode into the guild, not sparing a glance at anyone else. The interior was vast—cool stone floors, red banners, and reinforced doors. The faint scent of metal filled the air.
At the main counter, a woman in dark armor looked up.
Jian stepped forward.
"I need one of your strongest protectors," he said. "My life will soon be in danger."
The receptionist raised an eyebrow, instantly sensing the weight behind those words. Her tone shifted, becoming more formal, more serious.
"Understood. I'll begin the necessary arrangements. But it won't come cheap."
"I know," Jian replied smoothly.
He retrieved two hefty pouches from within his spatial ring and dropped them onto the counter. The coins clinked loudly, heavy with gold.
But the woman didn't even flinch.
She tilted her head, unimpressed. "That won't buy you the level of protection you're asking for. Not in Lianzhou. Not for the kind of protection you just implied."
Jian frowned slightly. "Then what will it cost?"
He wasn't used to being the one needing protection. In his former life, he had been the threat.
Like a ghost, he had moved through shadows, slithering through cracks in air tight defenses like a whisper before the kill.
No attachments. No witnesses. No mistakes.
Hiring protection had never once crossed his mind because with his vast skills he was a one man army.
The receptionist leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes studying Jian's face with renewed interest.
"It depends on what you're trying to survive," she said coolly. "Bandits? Rival nobles? Assassins?"
Jian's gaze darkened, and his voice dropped an octave.
"All of the above. And maybe worse."
The woman stilled. A breath passed between them.
Then she slowly nodded. "You'll need someone from the Black Tier, then. Possibly higher. That kind of strength? You're looking at a spirit stone every hour."
Jian's brows twitched. "A spirit stone an hour?"
"Yes," she said without blinking. "Unless you have something else to offer. An artifact. A forbidden technique. A favor owed by someone with real influence. Then… we might be able to trade that in place of your pay."
Jian folded his arms, letting the silence stretch.
A spirit stone every hour…
That was robbery to most. But to him, it was strategy.
And in Lianzhou, leverage often weighed more than gold or spirit stone.
Without another word, he reached into his inner sleeve and pulled out a smaller black pouch. The clinking was different this time—softer, almost humming. He untied the pouch and gently spilled three smooth, faintly glowing spirit stones onto the counter.
The receptionist's eyes briefly widened.
Purified Grade.
Jian didn't speak. He didn't need to.
She nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to pull out a thick iron-bound ledger. She flipped through the pages, then reached beneath the desk and brought out a stack of scrolls—each wrapped in crimson string, marked with sigils of containment.
"These," she said, placing several parchment scrolls on the marble counter, "are the available Black Tier protectors. Their names, strengths, domains of expertise, and any notable details."
Jian's eyes scanned the documents quickly. Most bore impressive credentials—former military commanders, cultivators with Heavenly Tribulation base cultivation, even a few saints who had fallen from grace.
Then one name caught his eye.
Yun Ji.
The parchment was older than the rest. The ink smudged in places. There was no clan symbol, no formal recommendation—just a short note:
Strength confirmed: Unknown limit.
Cultivation Realm: Estimated Saint Ascension
or higher.
Affiliation: None.
Personality: Unorthodox.
Warning: Approach with discretion.
"I want this one," Jian said, tapping his finger once on the name.
The moment she saw who he had picked, the receptionist visibly flinched.
She quickly reached out and slid the scroll back toward herself.
"Take anyone else," she said, her voice low. "But not him."
Jian raised a brow. "Why?"
"Yun Ji is… unpredictable," she said, struggling to remain polite. "A rogue cultivator. He follows the contract, yes—but many clients have complained about his methods. The guild has… standing instructions to keep his profile off the front desk."
"Instructions?" Jian echoed, amused.
"Yes," she said carefully, her eyes darting around as if someone might be listening. "We can't get rid of him because he never technically violates the contract. But he's… not someone we assign unless we have no other choice."
Instead of being deterred, Jian's interest only deepened.
Unpredictable. Dangerous. Unorthodox.
Exactly the kind of shield he needed.
"The people coming for me won't be conventional either," he said inwardly. "I want him. Or no one else." he spoke firmly
The receptionist stared at him. Then, with a long sigh, she blew out a puff of air, defeated.
"You better not complain later," she muttered, reluctantly reaching for a talisman beneath the desk. It was shaped like a blade, blackened with age, and pulsing with an odd energy.
She held it up, her tone formal now.
"By the authority of Heaven's Protection Guild, the contract is sealed. Yun Ji has been summoned."
As she placed the talisman into a golden dish on the counter, a faint ripple passed through the air—an invisible pulse of qi that spread out from the room like a wave, unseen but undeniable.
---
Somewhere deep within the guild, beyond reinforced doors and isolated chambers, a man sat in a lotus position atop a cold stone floor.
He was barefoot, wearing only black robes. His hair was silver, unkempt, and his eyes were shut.
The moment the pulse passed through his room, his lips curled into a slow, sardonic smile.
"I see…" he whispered, his voice low and amused. "It's that time of the year again."
He cracked his neck to one side and let out a quiet chuckle.
"I just hope this one's worth my time."
He kissed his teeth softly and rose from the ground without sound. "Let's go see our new friend now shall we," he said with a wicked grin.