In the marketplace, John lingered in front of a row of stalls, the corner of his lips curled in amusement.
"Heh. Looks like things are about to get lively."
He stretched, then casually waved his hand. "Alright, everyone—bag it. Whatever you're selling, I'll take the lot."
For a heartbeat, the hawkers blinked, unsure if they heard correctly. Then, chaos erupted.
"Yes, honored guest!"
"Coming right up!"
"Don't push, that talisman's mine to sell!"
Dozens of hands flew to bundle herbs, trinkets, and charms into sacks. John paid without blinking, ending up with so many bags slung over his arms that he looked less like a mysterious cultivator and more like a wealthy young master on a shopping spree.
As he started walking toward the inn, his thoughts turned inward.
The only reason no one's tried to rob me yet… he mused. Is because they can't. Any fool with malice forgets about me the moment they lose sight. No fate, no meeting. Law of Freedom—bend the threads before they knot.
He smiled faintly, adjusting a sack. Not bad. Saves me the trouble of shooing gnats away.
But as his boots carried him closer to the inn, his expression turned thoughtful.
Now… the City Lord, Fang, and Ren are all sitting in one room waiting for me. Classic setup. Seen enough cultivation novels to know at least one of them's going to doubt me and start barking. Question is—do I play along as some lofty expert, or…
He smirked. Nah. If I act too high and mighty, I'll just skip the fun parts. Better to let them think I'm just some eccentric. It's more entertaining that way.
Inside the Lin family inn, the atmosphere was heavy.
The three powers of Sunflower Town sat around a low table, their attendants keeping silent at the walls. The air was thick with unspoken calculations.
"How should we approach this 'Senior John'?" Ren Huailin asked smoothly, fanning himself. "To treat him too casually risks offense. But if we bow too low…"
"…we show weakness," Fang Heshan finished, his cane tapping softly against the floor. His eyes glimmered beneath heavy lids. "And if he is truly what these boys say, he won't care for etiquette anyway."
Qiao Liang grunted in agreement. "Best to test the waters carefully."
At his gesture, Feng and Wen were called over.
"You two," Liang said, voice calm but firm, "what kind of man is this 'John'? What sort of temperament does he hold?"
Feng exchanged a glance with Wen, then answered honestly. "Senior John… doesn't really care for formalities. Most of the time, he just acts like a rich young lord with nothing better to do."
At those words, the room fell silent.
Huailin's brows twitched. Heshan's fingers tightened on his cane. Even Liang frowned.
Acts like a rich young lord… bored?
Before they could press further, Feng added carefully, "But when he does speak… it's always right."
The lords leaned back, their expressions unreadable.
Out in the market, John paused mid-step and scratched his ear. Weird. Someone's gossiping about me again. He shook his head and continued toward the inn, sacks of goods swaying.
The inn's door opened with a creak. Conversation froze. Every head turned.
John stepped inside, burdened with half the market's wares dangling from his arms.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then—
"Uncle John!" Xue darted from her chair, barreling into him with childish delight. "You're back! Can you finish the Cinderella story you promised?"
John laughed, shifting the bags to free one hand and ruffling her hair. "Of course, little princess. I'll tell you how the glass slipper fits later."
Without a glance at the three powers, he strolled to the counter and set his bags down with a heavy thud.
"Madam Lin," he greeted warmly.
Ruyin smiled knowingly. "Welcome back. Those three at the table with Feng and Wen have been waiting for you."
John followed her gaze at last. Three lords, each renowned in Sunflower Town, sat rigidly with carefully blank faces.
In their minds:
…A mortal? Liang thought. No qi fluctuations, no aura.
Too perfect, Huailin countered silently. No blemishes, no flaws. His body… it's unnatural.
Heshan's cane tightened in his hand. If he's mortal, I'll eat my cane. But what manner of being hides so thoroughly?
John turned to Feng, ignoring the three entirely.
"Sup, kid. Why you sitting there staring at me like I'm a painting?"
Feng opened his mouth, flustered, but before he could reply, Qiao Liang rose to his feet and cupped his hands respectfully.
"Senior John."
The weight of the City Lord's bow hushed the entire inn.
John blinked, then flashed a grin. "Sup."
The other two lords quickly followed, exchanging glances before offering their own respectful greetings.
After a brief silence, Huailin was the first to broach the matter. "Might I ask, Senior… were you the one who modified the Frog Burst technique?"
John yawned, stretching his shoulders. "Yeah. That Feng kid kept jumping around at night like a frog on fire. Couldn't watch it anymore, so I fixed it."
The three lords stiffened, exchanging stunned glances.
Even their most prized manuals were lesser than what this man had casually "fixed."
Finally, Heshan asked what all of them wondered. "Then… why would someone of your caliber remain here, in a small town?"
John scratched his cheek, his answer simple, almost careless.
"Bored. Figured I'd try living a normal cultivation life for once."
The words struck them harder than any declaration of power.
Bored…
A hermit seeking enlightenment…
Then this town… is only a stop on his journey…
None dared ask more.
The three exchanged silent, unspoken conclusions: this "mortal" was no mortal at all.