Su Chen glanced around one last time.
"Forget it," he muttered. "It's not like I have anything to do with him anyway."
With that, he closed the system screen and turned his attention back to the street. The city buzzed with life—vendors shouting, cultivators bargaining, spirit qi lingering faintly in the air.
As he continued walking, a loud, theatrical voice rang out from the side of the street.
"Fellow Daoists! Brothers and sisters! Come take a look—this little tiger cub is just too cute! A spirit beast like this could be your loyal mount!"
"And look at this fox cub—descendant of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan! I fought three peak qi refining realm cultivators just to snatch it!"
A spirit beast vendor stood behind a wooden stall, waving his hands dramatically as he tried to attract attention. Caged beside him were several small beasts—fluffy, wide-eyed, and indeed, annoyingly adorable.
But no one was approaching the stall.
Not because the beasts weren't appealing.
But because everyone in City knew—this particular shopkeeper was a scammer. A notorious one. Countless young cultivators had been tricked into buying "rare bloodline" beasts that turned out to be nothing more than regular animals with some dye and spiritual herbs mixed in.
Su Chen, too, found his gaze lingering on the cubs for a moment. He had to admit—they were cute.
But…
"Raising a spirit beast? That's just taking on another responsibility. I'm already barely managing to cultivate in peace."
Su Chen strolled past a few more shops without much interest. At one point, his gaze lingered on a bustling stone gambling house. It was packed, the crowd spilling onto the street, voices loud and excited. Even from where he stood, the energy of the place was palpable.
He shook his head. Too noisy, too far. Not worth the trouble. He moved on.
Just as he passed another alleyway, a loud, enthusiastic voice rang out.
"Hey, hey! Fellow Daoists! Take a look at this! One drop of this perfume and fairies will flock to you like bees to honey!"
Su Chen reflexively turned his head. To his surprise, the shop was packed wall-to-wall with customers, mostly young men crowding around the stall. The vendor held up a small bottle with exaggerated reverence, as if it contained spiritual essence instead of snake oil.
Su Chen raised an eyebrow. "Heh… I guess it doesn't matter if it's the mortal world or a cultivation realm—men are still the same."
Not bothering to linger, he turned away and muttered, "Time to find a place to sleep."
He activated a low-grade sensing technique, scanning the area for inns or resthouses. Almost immediately, he picked up several spots nearby—some marked as traditional inns, others as more modernized establishments, and a few that seemed like a mix of both.
He checked out a few, but none felt right. Some were too noisy, others too shabby. A few even reeked of body odor and cheap spirit wine. With a slight frown, he mused, In a small city like this, expecting a proper inn might be asking too much.
Still, after a bit more walking and some casual observation, he finally found one tucked near the outskirts of the city. It was quieter here, the street less crowded. The inn itself had a clean, modest façade—no ostentatious decorations, just a well-kept wooden sign and orderly entrance.
What stood out, though, were the people coming and going. Most looked like wealthy merchants or refined cultivators—not the usual rabble. That alone made Su Chen pause.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. At least the guests have some standards. This might do.
Su Chen walked into the inn, heading toward the reception desk. Inside, a commotion was underway—several merchants arguing loudly with the manager.
"You call this fair? A hundred low-grade spirit stones for one night? That's robbery!" shouted a pudgy merchant, his face red with frustration. "Do you know who I am? My family's ancestor is a Foundation Building realm cultivator!"
He puffed out his chest, clearly trying to use his family's backing to intimidate.
But the inn manager remained calm, even courteous. "Fellow Daoist, our rates are clearly posted. If you'd like to stay, we welcome your business. If not, you're free to leave."
From the manager's tone and expression, it was clear he wasn't the least bit threatened.
Foundation Building realm, Su Chen noted, casting a casual spiritual glance. About 150 years old. No wonder he's not easily rattled.
When it became clear that his intimidation was useless, the merchant snorted, flung his sleeve, and stomped out of the hall. "You'll all regret this arrogance!" he shouted on the way out.
Su Chen shook his head slightly. So loud… all bark, no bite.
He stepped forward.
The manager had just turned back toward the entrance when Su Chen's quiet voice cut through the space between them.
"I'd like your best room."
The manager flinched. For a brief second, his pupils contracted. He hadn't sensed anyone approaching—not even a whisper of footsteps or spiritual presence. One moment, the space had been empty. The next, Su Chen was there.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, instincts screaming that this was not someone to offend.
Still, to his credit, the manager quickly composed himself. He offered a respectful bow, his voice steady despite the surprise.
"Senior, welcome. You honor our establishment. Please—allow me to personally escort you."
With a hand gesture full of respect, he led Su Chen up the staircase and into the quiet upper floor of the inn. The surroundings here were much calmer—clean, well-maintained, and filled with a faint spiritual aura. It was clearly meant for guests of a certain status.
"Senior, this is our VIP area," the manager said respectfully, stopping outside a finely decorated wooden door. "This is our best room."
He opened the door for Su Chen, gesturing inside. Notably, he didn't mention the price—he didn't dare. In regions like this, which weren't under the protection of any major sect, strength often dictated law. And with the chill he'd felt earlier, the manager had no doubt: if this young man wanted the room without paying, no one here could stop him.
Su Chen glanced inside without speaking.
The room was spacious and clean. A large wooden bed rested against the far wall, layered with soft spiritual-fiber bedding. There was a low table beside it, a meditation mat in the corner, and a wide window letting in the early dusk light.
"Hm." Su Chen reached into his inner robe and pulled out a spirit stone.
It was smooth, lightly glowing—a remnant of a high-grade spirit stone he had once used during cultivation. The core energy had been absorbed, leaving behind something between a middle-grade and high-grade in density. Not useful for him anymore, but still more valuable than anything this small-town inn would usually see.
He tossed it casually toward the manager.
The manager caught it with both hands, nearly fumbling it from shock. The spiritual density alone made his heart race.
Su Chen stepped into the room without another word and shut the door behind him.
Inside, the air was still and quiet. He kicked off his shoes, loosened his robes, and threw himself onto the bed with a low sigh. The mattress was firm but clean—far better than what he had expected from a city like this.
Outside the door, the manager stood frozen for a moment, still staring at the spirit stone in his hand. A second later, he snapped out of it, quickly hiding the stone in his storage ring. With light steps and a relieved smile, he walked back downstairs—his respect for the mysterious guest now etched into his bones.