Lan Yan clenched her fists. "Uncle, then… hire me! I can help you with anything. I'm very hardworking!"
The fishmonger didn't even look up. "No."
"No?" She deflated instantly. "Why not?"
"I don't need helpers," he said bluntly. "I barely earn enough to feed myself. If I take you in, will you eat air?"
Lan Yan opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. "…I can eat very little."
"Still no."
She sagged like a wilted cabbage. The man sighed, wiped his hands on a cloth, and jerked his chin toward the edge of the village.
"If you really need work, try the guest house by the old pier."
Lan Yan blinked. "Guest house?"
"There's a man from Yucheng City staying there," the fishmonger said. "Came last week. Says he's hiring workers for something. Pays one silver coin a day, which is more than enough for a newcomer like you."
"One silver?!" Lan Yan nearly screamed. "For one day?!"
"Don't get excited," the man said flatly. "He looks strict. And rich people from Yucheng aren't easy to please."
Still, hope lit in her eyes. "Thank you, uncle! I'll go right now—"
She turned to leave.
"Hey."
Lan Yan stopped. The fishmonger took a grilled fish from behind him and held it out—not too friendly, not too rude.
"Take it."
Lan Yan stared at the fish, touched. "You're… giving it for free?"
"Don't misunderstand," he grumbled. "It's just yesterday's leftover. Not good enough to sell."
Her heart warmed anyway. She bowed deeply. "Still… thank you."
"Go," he waved her off.
With the grilled fish hugged to her chest like treasure, Lan Yan hurried toward the old pier. The smell of sea and damp wood grew stronger, and soon a small guest house came into view—weathered, crooked, but busy.
A long line had formed outside.
Lan Yan's jaw dropped. "What in the world…?"
Dozens of people stood waiting—farmers with mud on their boots, fishermen smelling like the ocean, women with woven baskets, and even one old man who looked like he might collapse before noon.
"Is this… for the job?" Lan Yan muttered, squeezing herself into the very back.
She had barely settled when someone behind her leaned close.
"Miss, miss—don't stand there," the boy behind her whispered.
Lan Yan flinched. Behind her stood a young man—around twenty-five—bright eyes, messy hair, and a grin far too cheerful for someone in a job line.
He wore a light brown hemp tunic, sleeves rolled to the elbows, paired with dark gray trousers tied at the ankles with simple cloth strips. His belt was a faded rope, and his shoes were worn straw sandals.
He looked like someone who worked hard, laughed easily, and almost certainly talked too much.
Lan Yan blinked. "Why?"
"Because the sun is hitting you directly from the left. It'll make you faint faster."
"…What?"
He nodded wisely. "I've measured it. That direction is unlucky for short people."
For a full three seconds, Lan Yan simply stared.
Then she sighed.
Of course.
Of course after falling from the sky, getting thrown by a demon, and starving into delusion… she would meet a strange boy who measures sunlight and declares her short.
She rubbed her temples. "Why is my life like this…"
Lan Yan closed her eyes. 'I want to go home. I don't have a home.'
"What's your name?"
"Lan Yan," she replied, glancing ahead. "Do you know what the job is?"
"Oh, yes!" Ruo Bai puffed up proudly. "It's about…" he doesn't even know it himself. Lan Yan understand that.
Lan Yan blinked. "What kind of job pays one silver a day? Isn't that too much?"
Ruo Bai blinked at her. "Ehh? You don't know? One silver coin can feed a person for half a month! Copper is for normal wages. Silver is for dangerous wages."
Lan Yan swallowed. "Dangerous…?"
Before Ruo Bai could answer, the doors of the guest house creaked open.
A man stepped out.
Tall, sharp-eyed, draped in fur-lined robes that screamed Yucheng wealth. His hair was neatly tied with a jade clasp, and every step he took felt like he owned the entire village.
The crowd straightened instantly.
"Greetings, Master Zhong!" people whispered.
So his name is Zhong… Lan Yan noted.
Master Zhong surveyed the line coldly, then spoke:
"Those who want one silver coin per day—listen well. I am traveling to Southeast Luoyun Mountain."
A ripple ran through the crowd.
"Luoyun Mountain?!"
"Isn't that cursed?"
"My uncle went there once—came back with half a beard missing!"
Master Zhong ignored all the excited whispers.
"My purpose is simple," he continued. "I must retrieve an item hidden at the mountain's base. The journey will take one month. I need people who are strong, reliable, and most importantly—inconspicuous."
Lan Yan blinked. Inconspicuous? Then why is she here? She sticks out like a cracked lantern.
Master Zhong lifted his chin slightly. "Those who are chosen will accompany me starting tomorrow at dawn."
He pointed to a burly guard beside him. "Step forward one by one."
The selection began.
One fisherman flexed his arms so hard he almost ripped his shirt.
Rejected.
A woman claimed she could run faster than the wind.
Rejected.
An old man tried to bribe Master Zhong with dried squid.
Rejected. (Instantly and with visible disgust.)
Lan Yan swallowed hard as her turn arrived.
She stepped forward.
Master Zhong's eyes drifted over her tattered robe, scratched arms, dirt-smudged cheeks.
"…You look weak," he said bluntly.
Lan Yan stiffened. "Wha— I am not!"
Well, he's correct, I am weak.
Master Zhong stared. For a long time.
Then, unexpectedly—
"Pass."
"What?!" Lan Yan almost fell over.
"Next."
She hurried aside, stunned. Behind her, Ruo Bai stepped up with a grin.
"Name?"
"Ruo Bai! Strong, reliable, inconspicuous, extremely handsome—"
"Rejected."
"WHAT—???"
Ruo Bai froze mid-grin.
Master Zhong narrowed his eyes. "You talk too much."
"But—but talking is my strongest strength!"
"Exactly. Next—"
"WAIT! I have SKILLS!" Ruo Bai shouted, as if Master Zhong were about to commit a grave sin by rejecting him.
Before the merchant could even lift a hand to wave him off, Ruo Bai lunged forward with the confidence of a man who absolutely should not have confidence.
He dropped into a stance—wide, dramatic, and suspiciously similar to a chicken preparing for flight.
Lan Yan blinked. "…What style is that?"
Ruo Bai didn't answer.
Instead, he spun, kicked, and—
WHAM!
His foot connected with a wooden bucket beside the pier.
The bucket shot into the air like it owed him money, flipped twice, and—by some cosmic miracle—landed upright.
The entire line gasped.
One woman actually clapped before remembering she wasn't supposed to.
Lan Yan stared, horrified and impressed all at once.
…That wasn't luck, right? Please tell me it wasn't luck.
Ruo Bai puffed up proudly and continued his "martial arts routine," which looked like a half punch, half kick, one dramatic spin, an inexplicable hop and something that resembled chasing away a goose.
However, somehow, every movement had actual strength behind it. His kicks sliced air. His punches cracked like tiny firecrackers.
Master Zhong blinked slowly, as if trying to decide whether Ruo Bai was talented… or possessed.
"Young Bai actually has some skills," he admitted. "Who did you learn that move from, if I may ask?"
Ruo Bai straightened, wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, and declared with complete seriousness, "Passed down by… uh… my grandfather's friend's cousin's grandmaster."
Lan Yan covered her face with both hands.
Oh heavens… even lying requires structure…!
But Master Zhong only rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes narrowing.
"…Strange technique."
Ruo Bai leaned forward eagerly. "So, did I get accepted, Master Zhong?"
A pause.
Then—
"Pass."
Ruo Bai exploded with joy.
"YES!!!"
He spun toward Lan Yan with a triumphant grin so bright it could blind a rooster. Soon the selection ended. Only two names were called. Lan Yan and Rou Bai.
Everyone else groaned in disappointment.
Master Zhong didn't look back. "Line up."
Then, with a flick of his fingers, one of his guards carried out a small wooden crate.
Master Zhong opened it, revealing neatly stacked silver coins.
"Those who were not selected," he announced, "will receive one silver coin for your time."
The crowd gasped.
"Even just for lining up?!"
"This Yucheng man is rich!"
One by one, the villagers collected their silver and left smiling.
Lan Yan stood there in disbelief.
One silver just for standing in line? Something about this job felt extremely, suspiciously wrong. But she needed the money anyway.
Meanwhile, in Feishui City, which means "Flying Water City," as its name suggests, it is not a city where water flies, nor does the city itself fly over rivers. Feishui City is not under the mortal realm, the immortal realm, or the demon realm.
Five hundred years ago, a man created this city from scratch, northeast of the Naihe River. It is ominous and always shrouded in darkness—the sun can never reach it. The city is therefore always lit by red lanterns. In the center of Feishui City stands a massive, multi-tiered Crimson Pavilion rising directly from the dark ground, its facade adorned with hundreds of pulsating red lanterns. An imposing arched black bridge leads to the tower, which is called the Ghostly Pavilion.
The Ghostly Pavilion is essentially a lawless hub in Feishui City, where one can buy anything, trade anything, gamble, or engage in illegal activities. News of its dealings spreads beyond the three realms.
Fan Nishan was heading toward a side corner. Girls in red clothing danced around him while wealthy mortals, insignificant immortals, and demons gathered to indulge in anything they desired, all in safety. Of course, Fan Nishan had not come here for pleasure.
Fan Nishan moved quietly toward the far corner of the Ghostly Pavilion, where few people ever went and the lanterns' red glow was weak. He wore a hideous outfit—tattered black robes hanging loosely over him, and a dark wooden mask that hid his face, leaving only his ember eyes visible. The strips of fabric scraped softly against the stone floor as he walked.
He reached a spiral staircase hidden behind some old red curtains. Each step creaked under his weight as he climbed higher. The corridor became narrow until he arrived at a small, hidden room at the top, tucked in the northwest corner of the pavilion. Heavy velvet curtains covered the entrance.
Fan Nishan took a deep breath, looked around carefully, and stepped inside. The curtains fell behind him.
"Look who decided to climb all the way up here," he croaked, voice gravelly but teasing. "Most people don't make it past the stairs. Either you're very brave… or very foolish. Hahaha! and more importantly, how much are you willing to pay for what you seek?"
Fan Nishan said nothing. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he tossed a small cloth pouch. It spun through the air in a perfect arc, its speed so great that no ordinary person could hope to catch it.
Yet the old man didn't even flinch. Effortlessly, he reached out and caught the pouch, his movements smooth and precise.
In the blink of an eye, Fan Nishan was seated before him. The old man adjusted his posture calmly, then slowly opened the pouch. Inside lay 490 spirit stones, each glowing faintly with condensed spiritual energy.
Even a single spirit stone could rival a small fortune in gold, let alone nearly five hundred. These stones were priceless for cultivators—enough to refine high-grade pills, summon rare artifacts, or exchange for immense power.
Fan Nishan's voice cut through the heavy silence.
"The Nine-Tailed Fox."
The old man didn't speak right away. Instead, he tied the pouch of spirit stones with slow, steady fingers and set it aside. Then he leaned forward, the red light stretching across his wrinkled face.
"You're asking for something…" his voice dropped even lower, "that most people would die just for knowing."
Fan Nishan didn't react.
The old man exhaled, long and thin. He tapped the table once, twice… then whispered something too soft for anyone outside the room to ever hear. Not that anyone was there to begin with.
Only one phrase came out clearly.
"…Luoyun Mountain."
A moment later, the curtains swayed quietly. Fan Nishan was already gone.
"..."
One Month Later
*Southeast Luoyun Mountain*
The journey toward Luoyun Mountain was long, filled with forest fog, sharp cold winds, and Ruo Bai's constant chatter—which Lan Yan personally believed was the greatest trial of all. Master Zhong walked in front like a silent mountain; Ruo Bai followed behind them like a very talkative squirrel; and Lan Yan dragged herself in the middle, contemplating all the questionable choices she'd made in life.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Luoyun Mountain, the sky had dimmed. Mist hung in layers—thick enough to swallow the path whole. The silence was heavy, as if even the insects had decided this place wasn't worth dying in.
Ruo Bai hugged his basket of supplies tightly. "Yan… I don't think I like this mountain. It looks like it eats people."
"You noticed that just now?" After a month of peaceful traveling and not a single supernatural incident, she had almost forgotten she was in a fantasy world.
Even Master Zhong paused, frowning faintly. "Stay alert."
And as always, danger arrived the moment someone mentioned it.
A soft, intoxicated giggle drifted out from the fog. It sounded like pure seduction.
Lan Yan felt goosebumps crawl up her spine immediately.
Then a figure emerged—
A woman with long crimson hair spilling down her back, eyes glowing faintly black, lips painted scarlet, and her dress—if it could even be called a dress, was a red silk wrap that clung dangerously to every curve, revealing far more than it hid.
Ruo Bai choked on his own spit.
Lan Yan elbowed him instantly.
The woman's lips curled.
"How bold," she purred, licking her lips slowly, "to come this far... Tell me, did you come to offer your bodies to me?"