The shattered remains of the bar spoke volumes of the chaos that had just unfolded. Broken furniture, pools of blood, and the battered bodies of the bat-man and his accomplices lay strewn across the room. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the tension of aftermath. The doors burst open, and a group of armed guards stormed in, their polished armor gleaming faintly under the flickering lamplight.
"We are from the Moonshadow Pavilion!" one of them bellowed, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Lower your weapon and surrender without resistance!"
Wei Feng remained on one knee, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His body ached from the strain of using his technique, but his mind was sharper than ever. He didn't look up immediately, instead placing a trembling hand over his face as though to shield his thoughts. *Moonshadow Pavilion...* The name churned bitter resentment in his mind.
The sect ruled the city with an iron fist, their lavish fortress sitting at the heart of Rotten Apple City, surrounded by high walls and luxury. Beyond those walls, the peripheral districts—the outer city—rotted in squalor and neglect. Poverty, crime, and despair festered like an open wound while the Pavilion grew fat on bribes and exploitation. To Wei Feng, the name Rotten Apple was no misnomer; it was the perfect metaphor for this wretched place.
"Identify yourself!" another guard barked, their weapons still trained on him. Their voices grew impatient as their boots crunched against the debris-strewn floor.
Wei Feng took a deep breath, pulling his hand away from his face. He knew that brute force wouldn't work here. He was already spent from the fight, and these guards—corrupt as they might be—still carried the Pavilion's authority. Any rash move could mean death, not just for him but for his plan. *Sometimes, survival doesn't mean strength; it means wit.*
As he lowered his hand, his facial features began to shift subtly. He activated his secret technique, a small but clever trick he had perfected. By manipulating the Qi pathways in his body, he could restructure the very appearance of his face. His rugged and battle-worn features softened, his jawline sharpening into a perfect angle, his lips curving into a natural pout. When the transformation was complete, he looked like a K-pop idol—flawless, delicate, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
His eyes brimmed with tears as he glanced up at the guards, his hands trembling for effect. "Oh, thank heavens you're here!" His voice cracked with despair, the perfect balance of vulnerability and sincerity. "You see... my dear friend, my poor friend, Dwarfu McShortyson"—he paused, as if choking on his words—"he was beaten to death by that monstrous bat-man!"
The guards exchanged confused glances, their weapons slightly lowering as Wei Feng's tears began to flow. "I—I was too afraid to do anything! I'm just a weakling, a nobody!" He sobbed, clutching at his chest. "But then... a mysterious man appeared out of nowhere! He fought them! He saved me! But I—I didn't even get to thank him... he left as soon as the fight ended. Oh, God forgive me! I couldn't save my friend!"
One of the guards muttered, "A mysterious man?" His suspicion wavered, and his eyes scanned the room.
Wei Feng's performance was flawless. His tears flowed like a river, his voice cracked at just the right moments, and his stunningly androgynous face only added to the tragic beauty of the scene. Even the guards, hardened as they were by years of dealing with the city's filth, couldn't help but feel pity. A man crying might normally be seen as pathetic, but in these circumstances—with his perfect, delicate face—it felt more like witnessing a masterpiece of sorrow.
The lead guard cleared his throat and softened his tone. "Sir, we're... sorry for your loss. But we still need to take you to the violent crimes division for questioning. It's standard procedure for cases involving deaths and violent confrontations."
Wei Feng nodded, wiping his tears delicately with his sleeve. "Of course, I understand. I'll cooperate fully. Anything to bring justice for my friend."
The guards helped him to his feet stumbling slightly as they steadied him. One guard picked up the hearts that Wei Feng had deliberately left behind, their expressions souring at the macabre sight. Another glanced at the inhuman corpse of the bat-man and muttered something about reporting this to the higher-ups.
The night's heavy air weighed on Wei Feng as one of the guards, a burly man with a scar across his left cheek, slung his arm over his shoulder to support him. Wei Feng winced, his knee burning where the dwarf's dagger had struck deep. He could feel his energy fading, but his sharp mind refused to rest. As they trudged through the cobbled streets of Rotten Apple City, the other guard—a wiry man with a bushy mustache—walked ahead, carrying a lantern that cast flickering light over the dark alleyways.
Wei Feng tilted his head slightly toward the mustached guard, his voice hoarse yet conversational. "So... what's it like living in this city?"
The guard puffed out his chest proudly, his voice carrying a touch of arrogance. "Rotten Apple? Best city in the world—well, at least in the center where the real people live." He sneered, glancing at Wei Feng's tattered clothes. "You wouldn't know what that's like. The Pavilion's influence ensures order, prosperity, and luxury for those lucky enough to live inside the walls."
Wei Feng raised an eyebrow but kept his expression neutral. "Must be nice. And the Pavilion... they're as powerful as people say?"
"More than powerful." The guard's voice swelled with pride. "They're untouchable. Their mastery over water cultivation makes them unstoppable. A single disciple can flood a battlefield or heal a dying man. You're lucky they're even bothering to patch up someone like you."
Wei Feng let out a weak chuckle. "And yet, I hear they've had trouble lately. Something about a stolen manual?"
The guard's smug demeanor faltered for a moment before he sighed. "Yeah, some lowlife stole one of the Pavilion's secret manuals from a caravan not long ago. They've put a hefty bounty on his head, but so far, no bounty hunter's been up to the task. They either run scared or end up dead. We need someone serious to deal with scum like that."
The guard didn't notice the faint smirk playing on Wei Feng's lips, though the effort of keeping it there drained him further. His vision blurred as he stumbled, his strength finally giving out. The last thing he heard before darkness overtook him was the guard muttering, "We're almost at the hospital. Hold on."
---
The faint scent of *jasmine* tickled Wei Feng's nose as he stirred. His head felt heavy, and his body was warm—too warm. He opened his eyes slowly, the world coming into focus as he took in the soft glow of blue light. A woman sat by his bedside, her hands glowing with a delicate aqua hue as water spiraled from her fingertips. The liquid shimmered like crystal, forming intricate patterns before sinking into his wounds, soothing the pain and mending the torn flesh. It was a mesmerizing sight, like watching moonlight dance on a lake's surface.
The healer was stunning, her beauty almost unnatural. Her skin was flawless, like polished porcelain, and her raven-black hair cascaded down her back in silky waves. Her face was the kind that would grace the covers of high-fashion magazines—sharp cheekbones, a perfect nose, and full lips that seemed to pout naturally. Her robes, though modest by sect standards, clung just enough to highlight her generous curves, and her ample chest pressed subtly against the fabric as she leaned over him. Despite the pain, Wei Feng couldn't help but notice.
"Awake already?" Her voice was soft, like a gentle stream, and carried a teasing lilt. "Most people don't wake up until I'm done. You must have a strong will."
Wei Feng blinked, taking in her playful smile. "Strong will... or maybe I just can't resist good company."
She chuckled, the sound like a melody, and continued her work, her hands never faltering. "Flattery will get you nowhere, stranger. But if you must know, you're lucky to be alive. That knee wound of yours was nasty. Good thing you ran into us."
He shifted slightly, wincing as the pain subsided further. "And to whom do I owe my thanks?"
"I'm Yue Lian," she said, her hands pausing briefly as she met his gaze. Her eyes were a vivid shade of blue, like the clearest sky after a storm. "A disciple of the Moonshadow Pavilion."
"Yue Lian," Wei Feng repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "Fitting for someone who looks like she was carved from moonlight."
Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she quickly masked it with a smirk. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you? But tell me, stranger, what's so special about you that fate spared your life tonight?"
He grinned despite himself. "Special? Maybe fate just likes to keep things interesting."
She leaned in closer, deliberately, her hair brushing against his cheek as her lips hovered near his ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If you really want to know what's special, it's the Moonshadow Pavilion."
Her proximity was... distracting, to say the least, but Wei Feng kept his composure, though his heart raced slightly. "What makes it so special?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
Yue Lian pulled back slightly, her face still close enough that her presence was almost overwhelming. "It's the water element," she said, her tone filled with reverence. "No other element is as versatile. Water can heal, destroy, transform. It can be snow, vapor, ice, or rain. With enough mastery, it's unstoppable. That's why we are unmatched."
Wei Feng smirked, his voice dropping to a teasing drawl. "Sounds like you can do anything with water. But tell me, Yue Lian... can you make it wet?"
She blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before laughing softly. "You're bold, I'll give you that."
Their eyes met, the playful banter giving way to something deeper. She hesitated briefly, then leaned in again, this time with no pretense. Her lips met his softly, their warmth contrasting with the coolness of her healing magic. The kiss was brief but charged, leaving Wei Feng slightly breathless as she pulled away, her expression a mix of amusement and intrigue.
"You're trouble," Yue Lian said, her voice teasing yet sincere. "But maybe... I like trouble."