The first light of dawn sneaked through the shutters of the Gilded Carp Inn, much like a hesitant thief, transforming Robert's plain room into a canvas of gray and gold.
He had slept fitfully, his cultivator's senses attuned to every creak of the building, every footstep in the corridor beyond his door. The city never truly slept—even through the walls, he could hear the distant rumble of early commerce beginning its daily rhythm.
