The Moonlit Guest and The Unscented Blade

The night following the skirmish with the Silver Snake Gang was unnaturally quiet. In Chaisang, silence was rarely a sign of peace; it was the indrawn breath before a scream.

Inside the tavern, the only light came from a single tallow candle flickering on the counter. Baili Dongjun sat behind it, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the mysterious wooden box he had pulled from the shadows. Beside him, Sikong Changfeng sat on the floor, cross-legged, his silver spear resting across his knees. The spearman was sharpening the blade with a whetstone, the rhythmic shing-shing sound the only heartbeat of the room.

"You should sleep," Changfeng said, not looking up. "The Silver Snake is a low-tier gang, but their master, the 'Jade Serpent,' is a man of the fourth realm of cultivation. He won't let his men be shamed in broad daylight without a response."

"I'm not waiting for a gang leader," Dongjun replied, his voice calm but heavy. "I'm waiting for the wind to stop."

As if on cue, the willow trees outside the window ceased their rustling. The air grew thick, heavy with the scent of ozone and cold steel.

A shadow fell across the paper-thin walls of the tavern. It didn't come through the door. It didn't come through the window. It appeared, as if manifested from the darkness itself, right in the center of the room.

The guest was a man dressed in robes the color of midnight. A silver mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only a thin, stern mouth visible. He carried no visible weapon, yet the wooden floorboards beneath his feet began to frost over.

Sikong Changfeng was on his feet in an instant, his spear leveled at the intruder’s throat. "One more step and I’ll see if shadows can bleed."

The masked man didn't even glance at the spear. His eyes were fixed on Dongjun. "The Marquis told you to stay in the capital. He told you that the world of wine is a dream, and the world of the sword is the reality. Why have you come to this graveyard of a city, Young Master?"

Dongjun stood up slowly. He didn't look afraid; he looked annoyed. "Uncle Mo, tell my grandfather that I’ve already brewed the 'Breeze of the South.' I’m not leaving until the fermentation is complete. If he wants me back, he’ll have to come and drink the whole vat himself."

The man, revealed to be a guardian sent by the Baili Clan, sighed. The frost on the floor began to melt. "The Jade Serpent Gang is the least of your worries. The Hidden River assassins have been spotted in the northern district. They aren't here for money. They are here because someone has placed a bounty on the head of every noble youth in the province."

Changfeng lowered his spear slightly, his brow furrowed. "The Hidden River? The organization that kills even emperors if the price is right?"

"The very same," the masked guardian replied. He turned to Changfeng. "And you, wanderer. You have the technique of the 'Falling Flower Spear,' yet you dress like a beggar. Who is your master?"

Changfeng’s grip tightened. "I have no master. I have only a spear and a thirst for wine."

"A dangerous combination," the guardian remarked. He turned back to Dongjun and tossed a small, heavy silk pouch onto the counter. It clinked with the sound of high-grade spirit stones—currency for cultivators. "Use this to hire better guards. Or use it to buy a coffin. The Marquis will not intervene again. He says that if you want to live like a commoner, you must learn to die like one."

With a flicker of the candle, the masked man vanished.

Dongjun looked at the pouch, then at the wooden box. He finally flipped the latch. Inside sat a pair of beautiful, ivory-handled daggers, glowing with a faint, ethereal light. He hadn't touched them in years.

"He's right about one thing," Dongjun whispered, looking at the empty space where his uncle had stood. "The wine is dreaming, but the world is waking up."

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed from the roof. Then another. The sound of multiple pairs of feet landing softly on the tiles.

Changfeng looked up, a grim smile playing on his lips. "It seems we won't have to wait for the morning to use that gold, Dongjun. The Jade Serpent didn't send his thugs. He sent his 'Fangs'."

Dongjun grabbed the ivory daggers. "Sikong, if they break my fermentation vats, I’m doubling your debt."

"Then I’ll make sure they stay on the roof," Changfeng laughed, kicking the door open and leaping into the moonlight.

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