["I didn't come here to steal. I came here to take credit for what you failed to steal." – Wu Feng]
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Outer Edge – Linchuan Wild Belt
The sky was pale with approaching fog as Wu Feng stared down the entrance of an ancient ruin choked in vines and spiritual residue.
A collapsed ziggurat. Half of it sunken into the earth. The other half wrapped in half-active talisman chains—meant to keep something out.
Or in.
Beside him, Sun Bobo fidgeted, balancing a peach on his head.
"This place smells like sealed regrets and old people."
"That's because we're in a former sect treasury vault," Wu replied, arms folded. "Rumor says they tried to open it during a storm, and the entire inner courtyard collapsed."
"Why would we go in, then?"
"Because I want what's left."
"You mean a broken fan and three dead squirrels?"
Wu squinted.
"The fan is ancient. The squirrels were trying to rob me. Two wins."
Vault Description: Falling Skies Treasury
Once home to the Skycradle Sect, known for their storm-based arrays and spatial item storage.
They died out during a core rebellion. The treasury vault was buried and sealed by six formations—four of which were now cracked.
The last two flickered like a failing nightlight.
Wu cracked his knuckles.
"Time to loot the legacy of dead hypocrites."
"I want the fancy rings," Bobo declared.
"You can have the empty boxes."
Inside – First Chamber
The door collapsed with a whisper, revealing a vast hall covered in layered formation plates—many snapped or twisted by pressure.
In the center of the room stood a girl.
She wore travel robes reinforced with spirit-woven fiber. A longsword on her back. No sect insignia. Her aura steady, but her eyes sharp.
She turned toward them instantly, unsheathing halfway.
"You're late," she said.
"Fashionably," Wu replied, stepping in.
"You weren't part of the contract circle. Who sent you?"
"Fate. And maybe someone's bad map."
She narrowed her eyes.
Her Name Was Li Yueran
A rogue cultivator. Sharp. Independent. Known in certain circles as a map hunter—specializing in unlocking sealed formations for payment or profit.
Wu had heard her name once at a noodle stall.
She had also once stabbed a prince for stealing her compass.
"You're a scavenger," she said flatly. "And that thing—"
She pointed at Sun Bobo.
"—is a raccoon in sunglasses."
"I AM THE MONKEY KING," Bobo bellowed. "KNEEL, MORTAL."
"You've got jam on your face," she said.
He did.
Wu stepped past her, knelt beside a half-burned altar, and set up a fire pot.
"Here's the deal," he said, tossing ingredients in. "You do your formation thing. I do my ruin-minding thing. We split loot by contribution and charm."
"Charm?"
"As judged by the monkey."
"I demand noodles," Bobo added.
"Ignore him," Wu said. "He thinks tea leaves whisper fortunes."
She watched him cook, wary.
Then sniffed the broth.
She hesitated.
"That smells... good."
"Everything I do is," Wu replied.
While Bobo tried to stuff his tail into a gold vase, Li Yueran tapped the vault's central plate.
It glowed—then cracked.
A shockwave hit the room.
The floor trembled.
Three side walls collapsed inward, revealing an inner vault stairwell sealed by a spatial ripple and…
...the sound of growling.
"That's new," Wu muttered.
"That's bad," Yueran said.
"That's breakfast," Bobo announced.
What's in the Vault
A spirit-forged serpent, trapped and twisted by unstable spiritual pressure.
Once likely a guardian beast. Now warped.
It coiled and hissed in the half-opened corridor.
"We have two options," Yueran said, drawing her blade.
"Fight or run?"
"No. Fight or negotiate."
Wu stepped forward, reached into his pouch…
…and pulled out a skewer of demon rabbit glazed in fermented plum oil.
The serpent paused.
Sniffed.
Swayed.
Wu threw it left.
The serpent followed.
"I just bribed a mutated snake," Wu said. "I expect applause."
"You'll get a statue," Bobo muttered, dragging a ring case across the floor.
System Update
+10 PP – Solved Beast Conflict Nonviolently+5 PP – Loot Recovery Accelerated by Distraction Beast (Sun Bobo)+10 PP – Overheard by Unverified Cultivator (Yueran now suspicious)
🧠 The Suspicion Grows
After they looted what they could—two fractured talismans, one partial legacy scroll, and an unmarked spiritual orb—Li Yueran sat beside the now-doused campfire.
"I've heard of you," she said.
"A pleasure," Wu replied.
"Not like that. I've heard of you. You were at Linchuan's auction. You embarrassed Qin Zixuan."
"A lot of people enjoy auctions."
"And a lot of people enjoy causing trouble. You're not 'Mo Chen' or 'the rogue chef' or even the one who kissed that sect heir under disguise."
Bobo gasped.
"You kissed a sect heir?!"
"That may have been a misunderstanding," Wu said, sipping tea.
"She called it betrayal," Yueran muttered.
"Ah. Then yes. A misunderstanding."
Before she could press further, Wu pulled out a half-burned contract seal and branded it with fire ink.
A new name scrawled across it: "Wei Xun – Wandering Archivist."
He handed it to her.
"If anyone asks," he said, "that's who you met today."
"What if I say no?"
"Then I'll leave you in a vault full of snake breath and ego fumes."
"I've been in worse places."
"But have you been there with a monkey dressed like a spirit rapper?"
Bobo posed.
She took the seal.
Outside the Vault
The three stepped back into the world—richer, dirtier, slightly more confused.
Yueran left first, eyes narrowed.
"Next time we meet," she said, "don't lie to me."
"That depends on how good your memory is," Wu replied.
Bobo waved with both hands.
"CALL ME. I DO FORTUNE READING."