The streets of Black Plain City were as unruly as ever. The stench of alcohol, roasted meat, and sweat mixed in the air, blending with the faint iron tang of blood from some scuffle nearby. Mercenaries roared with laughter, hawkers shouted over one another, and a drunken cultivator threatened a street vendor for overcharging him by a copper.
Yet amidst this chaos, one particular shopfront stood out.
Its sign, freshly painted, swung gently in the wind: Cloud Pavilion.
The name was plain, humble even. Not the kind of grandiose title one would expect in a city known for boasting "Dragon Blade Emporium" or "Heaven-Slaying Pill Hall". But to Feng Yun, that was the point.
Inside, the air was fresh, scrubbed clean of years of mildew. Wooden shelves gleamed faintly under lamplight. A sturdy counter stretched across the front, and in the back, hidden compartments and false walls concealed treasures that no ordinary shop should hold.
