When the golden light faded from the stone?paved road,

  the first thing Sunri noticed was the smell of food.

  Not the rot of the Iron Graveyard.

  Not the damp earth of Mistwood.

  But something warm—

  the scent of cooking oil,

  steam rising from bamboo baskets,

  and a faint sweetness in the air.

  He opened his eyes

  and found himself standing on an old street.

  Smooth bluestone tiles beneath his feet.

  Wooden houses on both sides,

  eaves curving upward,

  cloth signs swaying in the breeze.

  People walked past in wide?sleeved robes.

  Some wore hairpins and crowns.

  Some wore straw hats.

  A vendor in the distance called out,

  “Candied hawthorn—fresh candied hawthorn—!”

  Ancient…?” he murmured,

  tightening his hold on Pardy.

  Pardy stirred.

  His small nose twitched at the scent.

  His eyes brightened.

  Mo?Dou walked past them with quiet grace.

  The black cat surveyed the new world,

  golden eyes reflecting things only it understood.

  Then it slipped into the shadows

  behind a stack of bamboo baskets.

  “Mo?Dou, come back here later,” Sunri said instinctively.

  “Or you’ll get lost.”

  He froze.

  A cat wouldn’t get lost—

  especially not the last surviving cat of a dying world.

  “Hungry.”

  Pardy tugged at his clothes,

  pulling him back from his thoughts.

  Only then did Sunri notice

  they were standing at the entrance of a shop.

  A wooden sign hung above the door:

  Treasure Inn.

  Inside were square tables, long benches,

  steam rising from the stove,

  and a woman in an apron wiping down a table.

  He hesitated.

  He had no money for this world.

  But Pardy was truly hungry—

  the child’s face was scrunched,

  eyes shimmering with tears.

  “…Fine.”

  Sunri took a breath and stepped inside.

  “I’ll ask first.”

  He sat at a corner table.

  Pardy sat on his lap,

  staring at the bowl on the next table.

  Soft white curds,

  amber syrup glistening on top,

  crushed peanuts scattered like sand.

  The innkeeper was a woman in her forties,

  round?faced, sharp?eyed,

  hair pinned up with a wooden stick.

  She glanced at them.

  Her gaze lingered on Sunri’s strange clothing,

  then on Pardy’s pitiful expression.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  Her voice was brisk.

  “That…” Sunri pointed at the bowl,

  lowering his voice.

  “One serving. How much?”

  She didn’t answer the question.

  Instead, she looked at Pardy.

  “The child’s hungry?”

  Right on cue, Pardy let out a tiny whimper,

  eyes welling with tears.

  The woman’s expression softened.

  “Wait here.”

  She returned to the stove

  and soon placed a warm clay bowl

  in front of Pardy.

  The same soft white curds,

  a light drizzle of syrup,

  steam rising gently.

  “H?How much is this?” Sunri asked awkwardly.

  “I… might not be able to—”

  “It’s for the child,” she said, waving him off.

  “Poor thing looks starving.

  This is our town’s specialty—

  tofu pudding made with spring water

  from the back mountain. Sweet and smooth.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Tofu pudding… from spring water?”

  Sunri repeated.

  In his world, tofu pudding was just tofu pudding.

  No one cared what water it came from.

  The woman laughed.

  “Guest, you’re not from around here, are you?

  Even our most famous dish you don’t know?”

  Sunri nodded vaguely,

  eyes returning to Pardy.

  The child had already picked up the small wooden spoon,

  scooped up a trembling piece,

  and put it into his mouth.

  A second later, his eyes lit up.

  A bright smile bloomed on his face—

  syrup on his lips,

  eyes curved like crescent moons,

  as he looked at the woman with pure gratitude.

  Even Sunri felt warmth rise in his chest.

  The woman beamed.

  “Oh heavens, what an adorable child!

  Eat slowly—there’s more if you want!”

  Pardy focused on his food,

  carefully scooping each bite,

  eating with quiet joy.

  Sunri watched him,

  a mix of relief and ache in his heart.

  This child had crossed worlds with him,

  rarely tasting a peaceful meal.

  The inn wasn’t busy.

  The woman sat down beside them.

  “Where are you from, guest?

  Your clothes are unusual.”

  “Far away,” Sunri said carefully.

  “A very far place.”

  “Traveling for business? Visiting friends?”

  “Looking for someone.”

  That part was true.

  She nodded, not pressing further.

  Instead, she began chatting about the town.

  “Qingshi Town may be small,

  but it’s a crossroads.

  Wanderers from all over the martial world stop here.

  Have you heard of the Azure Edge Sect?

  Three miles outside town—

  the most famous sword sect for a hundred miles!”

  “Martial world? Sword sect?”

  Sunri was lost.

  In his world,

  the strongest weapons were hunters’ bows

  and blacksmiths’ knives.

  Sects and martial clans sounded like stories.

  Seeing his confusion,

  the woman leaned closer, excited.

  “Guest, you really are from far away.

  Here we have the martial world—

  sects, clans, cultivation manuals.

  The skilled can leap across rooftops,

  split stone with a palm!

  Just recently, the Seven Great Sects

  joined forces to attack the Demonic Cult.

  The battle shook the heavens—”

  She spoke vividly.

  Sunri listened in awe.

  In his quiet, uneventful world,

  people farmed day after day.

  The biggest conflicts were boundary disputes

  or whose chicken ate whose vegetables.

  Nothing like this—

  dangerous, chaotic, alive.

  Pardy finished the last spoonful

  and let out a tiny satisfied burp.

  He clasped his hands together,

  imitating the martial artists he’d seen,

  and bowed clumsily to the woman.

  The gesture was childish,

  but earnest enough to be charming.

  Sunri wiped his mouth

  and stood up.

  “Thank you, madam.

  This tofu pudding… we really have no money…”

  “I said it’s for the child.”

  She laughed at Pardy’s gesture,

  but her expression quickly turned serious.

  “But guest, you should leave soon.

  The town hasn’t been peaceful lately.”

  Before Sunri could ask,

  noise erupted outside.

  A group of men in matching blue outfits

  stormed down the street—

  ten or so,

  led by a burly man with a scarred face.

  Swords and sabers hung at their waists.

  Their expressions were hostile.

  “Azure Edge scum! Get out here!”

  the leader roared.

  “Where’s that brat Ye Lingyun?!”

  People scattered.

  Shops slammed their doors shut.

  The Seven Great Sects held power across the region.

  Even the authorities avoided them.

  The woman’s face paled.

  “Oh no… Iron Fist Sect.

  The most aggressive of the Seven.

  They’ve been looking for Azure Edge disciples for days.”

  Sunri lifted Pardy,

  trying to slip out the back—

  but it was too late.

  Two thugs barged into the inn,

  kicking over a table.

  “Old woman!

  Seen anyone from Azure Edge?!”

  The woman stepped in front of Sunri,

  forcing a smile.

  “Gentlemen, no martial guests today—”

  “Shut it!”

  One thug spotted Sunri,

  eyes narrowing.

  “Who’s this?

  Dressed all weird.

  Demonic Cult remnants have been fleeing everywhere—

  you must be one of them!”

  Sunri cursed inwardly.

  His rough clothes from his original world

  looked completely out of place here.

  Another thug reached for Pardy.

  “The kid too. Grab him.”

  Mini?Theatre:

  Just as the thug’s hand was about to touch Pardy—

  Ye Lingyun strode in,

  voice cold.

  “Before you lay a hand on him,

  ask me first.”

  Author (holding head):

  “…Sir, you appear in the next chapter.

  And you don’t have that line.”

  Ye Lingyun:

  “…”

  (Three seconds of silence.

  Ears turning slightly red.)

  “…I’ll take my leave.”