Meng Rong circled around me as though I were some odd artifact she had picked up out of curiosity. Her gaze swept over me from head to toe. “You healed far too quickly,” she said coolly. “Your bones were broken. And yet here you are, walking as if nothing happened.”

  I answered without hesitation. “Medicine.”

  Her steps slowed. “That’s curious,” she said. “You don’t even possess a storage ring.”

  “A what?”

  She paused, then waved the matter aside. “Never mind.”

  Without another word, she turned and began walking back toward the official residence.

  …Wait. That was it?

  “Hey,” I called out, frowning. “Chang Rong—”

  She stopped and turned around. Her eyes were cold. It was glacial, the kind of chill that seeped straight into the bones. My body stiffened on instinct.

  “My name,” she said flatly, “is Meng Rong.”

  The hostility in her voice was unmistakable. I swallowed.

  “Did I… do something to offend you?” I asked carefully. “If this is about me leaving without thanking the lord—”

  “That isn’t the problem,” she cut in.

  “Then what is?”

  She studied me for a long moment before speaking again. “The problem is that you were used. And now, that is causing trouble for me and my younger brother.”

  “…Used?”

  “You made quite the spectacle,” Meng Rong continued. “You publicly condemned an uncontrollable young master, humiliated the Dragon Heart Sect, and even managed to avoid forced recruitment from the Boulder Path Sect on the spot. Really impressive. You have a way with words.”

  I didn’t like where this was going.

  “In the process,” she said, “they made use of you.”

  She took a step closer. “After the banquet, word spread quickly. You became an ‘honorable young man,’ someone who could not ignore injustice. A righteous figure respected even by cultivators from the outer domains.”

  I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

  “Using that reputation,” she went on, “they recruited you in spirit. A spar. A promise. A month’s delay under the pretense of recovery.”

  I clenched my jaw. “It sounds harmless to me.”

  Meng Rong nodded. “Originally, my brother and I intended to expel them within three days, once their so-called recruitment concluded. But because of you, public opinion now favors them, so we can no longer do so without backlash.”

  “How long?” I asked quietly, aware of the answer, but still in denial.

  “At least a month,” she replied. “They have an excuse to linger. You.”

  I exhaled slowly. “What do they want badly enough to scheme like this?”

  The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

  Meng Rong’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you really want to know?”

  I thought about it, and realized how much I’ve screwed up. I thought about Dong Li’s punch, about Huang Yong’s palm strike, and about how small I really was in the grand scheme of things. While I’d love to blame Yakuza Man, the truth was I’d just be wasting energy.

  “No,” I said at last, sighing. “I don’t.”

  She looked at me, surprised.

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I’ll just leave Xincheng. The spar with Dong Li be damned.”

  Meng Rong stared at me for a long moment, then snapped her fingers.

  “So you finally understand, good. That’s a start… Hmmm… I have an idea, a scheme if you would…” She turned back toward me, her expression once again composed. “There is a way for you to repay my brother’s kindness.”

  “And?”

  “And earn money,” she added.

  I paused.

  “…I’m listening,” I said.

  Honestly, I could not have cared less. The troubles of the Lord of Xincheng had nothing to do with me, and I saw no reason to entangle myself any further than I already had. I could easily spend the rest of the month looking for ways to level up, improving my odds, and finding a clean way out of this forced recruitment. Running outright was an option, but it was a poor one. It would only leave resentment behind, and resentment had a way of turning into knives aimed at your back.

  If anything, honesty was safer.

  That one-month respite was an advantage I had no intention of wasting, and the more options I had, the better my chances of walking away intact.

  Meng Rong finally revealed her hand.

  “There is someone the three sects are after,” she said calmly. “I want you to escort that person discreetly. I will come with you. It will be dangerous, but I will make it worth your while. Spirit coins. Techniques. Favors.”

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  I turned around immediately.

  “I’m not interested,” I said flatly. “I don’t want to get killed. I thought you will have something worth my time, but it seems, I am mistaken.”

  I continued walking.

  Whatever she was proposing sounded like a perfect way to offend all three sects at once. I was already satisfied with offending one of them. There was no need to collect the full set.

  Behind me, Meng Rong swore under her breath.

  “Coward.”

  I did not stop.

  “Thankless bastard,” she snapped. “No honor at all. You act brave when it suits you, and like a sissy when it doesn’t.”

  Something deep inside me stirred.

  The Yakuza Man rumbled, irritated and restless, like a clenched fist looking for a reason to swing. I did not want to pick a fight with Meng Rong, since doing so would be suicide, but the Yakuza Man’s patience within me had limits, and mine were being tested.

  I stopped and turned around.

  “Your plan is shit,” I said bluntly. “You might as well announce to all the sects that you have what they want. What’s next? Wrap it up nicely and deliver it on a silver platter?”

  Meng Rong scoffed, her eyes sharp.

  “And you think you could come up with a better plan?”

  I exhaled slowly.

  “It’s simple,” I said. “They’re using public opinion to their advantage. So use it against them.”

  Her brows knit together. “How?”

  I should have stopped there. I knew it. But the anger was already spilling over, and once it started, I could not rein it back in.

  “It’s not complicated,” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “If you want rivals to destroy each other, you light the right fuse. Once violence reaches a boiling point, you stop treating it like a sect matter and start treating it like a crime. Then you use the law to drive them out.”

  Meng Rong frowned. “The soldiers of Xincheng are weak. They cannot stand against cultivators from outer sects. You would only get them hurt.”

  “Then don’t use soldiers,” I shot back. “Use people.”

  She stared at me.

  “There are plenty of people who will fight if their livelihood is threatened,” I continued. “And there are just as many who will gladly squeeze every coin they can out of someone stronger if they think the law is on their side.”

  “That’s insane,” she said sharply. “You’re talking about using ordinary people to deter cultivators.”

  “I’m talking about using restraint,” I replied. “Anyone who calls themselves righteous won’t easily harm a commoner. And if they do, all it does is fuel the fire. Reputation cuts both ways.”

  Meng Rong let out a long breath and rubbed her temple.

  “Enduring for a month is easier,” she said. “Your plan might take longer than that.”

  I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

  “You must’ve gone deaf,” I said flatly.

  Meng Rong stiffened, but I continued before she could interrupt.

  “What I offered wasn’t a plan to kick them out in less than a month,” I said. “It’s a way to divert their attention. Their real agenda isn’t staying in Xincheng, but finding the person you’re trying to hide.”

  Her gaze sharpened.

  “If you move that person now,” I went on, “you’ll only paint a target on their back. Enduring for a month gives them a chance to succeed. What you need to do is kill that chance. And if that means sowing chaos, then chaos works.”

  She was silent for a moment, then asked, “And if it escalates?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s almost guaranteed,” I said. “But that’s something you can prevent, isn’t it? You have the status. You have the cultivation. I’ve seen how deferential the others are toward you. You clearly have influence.”

  I paused, then added, “And if that still isn’t enough, there are plenty of martial artists gathered here hoping to be recruited by those sects. Though that may be the case, this domain is still their home. They can serve as impartial witnesses. Unbiased eyes keep even visiting sects in check.”

  Meng Rong studied me for a long moment.

  “I want to hire you,” she said suddenly.

  I frowned. I realized, belatedly, that I might have spoken too much.

  “I’m not—”

  “I want to hire you as chief constable,” she continued calmly. “You’ll be compensated well. And you’re free to retire whenever you wish.”

  I stopped short.

  “Do you even have the authority to do that?” I asked.

  “My younger brother will listen to me,” she replied without hesitation.

  It was too tempting.

  A position with power, legitimacy, and protection. If I could not find leveling grounds that raised my level fast enough, this might be the safest path available. And if what I had blurted out earlier actually worked, then the visiting sects would be too busy dealing with their own mess to think about forcibly recruiting me.

  A reckless idea took shape in my mind.

  This might actually work.

  “Fine,” I said at last. “Come find me at the Red Ember Inn once the position is settled. Then I’ll help you deal with your problem.”

  Before she could respond, I turned around and walked away, leaving her standing there with a thoughtful expression I did not care to interpret.

  Preferably, I wanted to find a place where I could level up and raise my strength quickly. Unfortunately, this world was not a game. I could not simply open a map, locate a cluster of enemies, and grind them down at my leisure.

  The thought of challenging the martial artists visiting Xincheng crossed my mind, but I dismissed it almost immediately. Their levels were far too low to be of any use to me. Fighting them would be little more than bullying, and the experience gain would be negligible. As for spirit beasts, I doubted they were common enough for me to stumble upon casually, let alone strong ones that I could safely hunt.

  In the end, I sighed inwardly.

  It seemed I really would have to take Meng Rong’s offer.

  When I returned to the Red Ember Inn, I spotted Tao Yu and Tao Fang seated at a table, halfway through their meal. Tao Yu was in the middle of lifting her chopsticks when she noticed me. Her eyes widened.

  “Senior!” she exclaimed, standing up too quickly. “You’re back already?”

  “Don’t mind me,” I said, waving a hand. “Stay seated.”

  She hesitated, then sat back down, though her gaze lingered on me with open concern.

  Tao Fang leaned back in his chair, letting out a hearty laugh. “Hah! Look at you, boy. You were half-dead a week ago, and now you’re walking around like nothing happened.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied. “But I’m alive. Also, don’t call me boy.”

  “That alone is worth celebrating,” Tao Fang said cheerfully. “Yu’er, since our benefactor has returned, why don’t we treat him to lunch?”

  Tao Yu nodded immediately. “Yes! Senior, please allow us to—”

  I waved over a waitress before she could finish. “I’ll take fried chicken.”

  The waitress frowned apologetically. “This servant… does not know such a dish, honored guest.”

  I blinked, then nodded. “Do you have salt, chicken, flour, eggs, lard, spices, and proper cooking utensils?”

  She hesitated, then nodded nervously.

  Why was I asking for all that?

  Because Yakuza Man demanded it, and because I needed the exp.

  I felt a familiar tug behind my eyes as translucent text flickered into existence.

  [Quest: Yakuza Man’s Fried Chicken]

  I ignored it consciously. I had enough things going on without my system mocking me. I turned to Tao Fang and said, “Forget treating me to a meal. Rent the kitchen for me instead. Hire the cook if you have to. I want my damn fried chicken.”

  The waitress looked alarmed. “This servant will ask the cook at once,” she said, then hurried away.

  Tao Yu leaned closer and whispered, “Senior, what is fried chicken?”

  “It’s a food from back home,” I replied casually.

  Tao Fang stroked his beard, eyes brightening. “Is it some kind of immortal treasure?”

  I stared at him. “How is food going to be an immortal treasure when you shit it out after eating?”

  He froze.

  Then he hurriedly cupped his fists. “This old man apologizes for his uncouth thoughts. How could a mortal like me dare associate an immortal treasure with something so… so crude?”

  I sighed.

  Around us, people had begun looking more openly in my direction.

  “What exactly is fried chicken?” someone whispered.

  “Could he mean fiery chicken?” another speculated. “A rooster cooked with flames?”

  “Perhaps it is related to the Vermilion Bird,” a third murmured reverently.

  I ignored them all.

  I was already tired of their antics, and if making fried chicken was what it took to shut up the voice of Yakuza Man in my head and squeeze out a bit of experience while I was at it, then so be it. Moreover, it wasn’t really that bad.

  “I’m just craving fried chicken, that’s all…”