At dawn, after sending off the last of his customers, Han Xuan finally closed the wooden shutters of the Hollow Tavern. The dim lantern above the entrance flickered before going out, leaving the street in the soft bluish hue of early morning.
Instead of returning to Five Paths Mountain, Han Xuan took a detour and walked toward the heart of Blueleaf Market. His footsteps were steady, but a faint heaviness lingered between his brows.
He arrived before a tall, elegant building adorned with carved pillars and shimmering jade ornaments—the Hundred Treasures Pavilion. The three characters on the plaque above the entrance glowed faintly with spiritual light, exuding both wealth and authority.
Han Xuan paused outside the door.
It had been years since he last entered openly.
Inside the pavilion, the current manager was Wen Yuelan—his long-lost lover from decades past.
Their story was far from simple.
Back then, Wen Yuelan had been a young woman of noble standing, daughter of a powerful family that specialized in treasure trade. Han Xuan, at the time, was nothing but a poor cultivator with no background and no support. Although they had fallen deeply in love, the difference in their status made it impossible for him to court her publicly, let alone speak of marriage.
In the end, misunderstandings, pressure, and fate tore them apart.
Their relationship was shattered, and Han Xuan eventually married the Shui Sisters.
As for Wen Yuelan, she never married. Instead, she devoted herself to the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, rising step by step until she became its manager.
Years passed, and Han Xuan never stepped foot in the pavilion—at least not as himself. If he needed something, he either asked one of his wives to buy it or wore a simple disguise to avoid meeting her.
But today…
He couldn't avoid it.
Not with the Chen Family forcing his hand.
Han Xuan let out a slow, steady breath and pushed the door open as gentle bell chimes rang softly above it.
As soon as he stepped in, the familiar scent of rare herbs and polished jade lingered in the air.
Han Xuan walked deeper into the Hundred Treasures Pavilion. He saw rows of gleaming treasures lined the walls: spirit ores, talismans, pills, and finely crafted artifacts—each meticulously arranged.
At this hour, only a few attendants were arranging display shelves or taking stock of new arrivals.
A young employee, dressed in the pavilion's customary white-and-blue uniform, quickly approached him with a polite smile.
"Welcome to the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, esteemed customer. May I assist you with anything?"
Han Xuan gave a small nod, "I'm here to see the manager."
The employee blinked in surprise, "Manager Wen? I apologize, sir, but Manager Wen is currently occupied with internal affairs. If you're seeking to purchase or sell items, I can assist you in her place."
Han Xuan shook his head lightly, "This matter requires her personally."
The employee hesitated, lowering his voice, "Manager Wen rarely accepts walk-in appointments. Unless it is a matter of high value or prior arrangement, I'm afraid she won't—"
"I am acquainted with her," Han Xuan said calmly.
At those words, the employee paused, studying Han Xuan more carefully. His polite smile softened into something more cautious.
"I see… In that case, please wait here for a moment. I'll inform Manager Wen."
The employee led him to a waiting seat near a jade pillar, then hurried up the stairs.
A few minutes passed—long enough for whispers among nearby attendants to rise and fade. Han Xuan remained seated, his expression unreadable as he watched morning light seep through the tinted windows.
Eventually, the employee returned, slightly out of breath. He said with a deeper bow than before, "Esteemed Customer Han, Manager Wen requests that you meet her in a private room upstairs."
Han Xuan rose silently.
The employee gestured for him to follow, "Please, this way."
They climbed the polished wooden stairs to the second floor, then entered a quiet corridor lined with ornate doors. At the far end, the employee stopped before a lacquered door adorned with silver patterns of flowing clouds.
"Manager Wen is waiting inside."
Han Xuan nodded and dismissed him with a gesture.
When the door slid open, a familiar voice drifted out—steady, calm, and composed.
"Please come in."
Wen Yuelan stood beside a round table in the center of the private room, sunlight spilling across her features like a soft veil. Her expression remained serene, giving no hint of the past they once shared.
"Brother Xuan," She greeted politely, "It has been a long time."
"Yes," Han Xuan replied quietly, "A long while."
Just like that, without a word about the years lost between them, their conversation began—calm on the surface, but carrying unspoken emotions beneath.
They exchanged small talk—weather, market trends, and the upcoming Hundred Sects Recruitment. Wen Yuelan's voice remained steady and mild, clearly drawing a line neither of them dared cross.
Once the small talk naturally faded, their conversation shifted into business. Eventually, she folded her hands neatly, "How may the Hundred Treasures Pavilion assist you today?"
Han Xuan reached into his storage pouch and placed three small jade vials on the table between them.
"I want to sell spiritual wines."
Each vial carried a different hue—misty white, metallic gray, and soft pearlescent blue.
Wen Yuelan's eyes fell on them with practiced calm, but the moment she uncorked the first vial, her expression shifted ever so subtly.
A light, cool fragrance drifted out—so faint it almost vanished as soon as it appeared.
"This should be Hollow Mist Brew, correct?" Wen Yuelan said the moment the fragrance touched her senses.
Even though the aroma was faint—almost nonexistent—she recognized it immediately.
Hollow Mist Brew was quite popular among certain customers in Blueleaf Market. Its flavor wasn't particularly outstanding, nor did it possess a striking scent. But the unique lingering coolness it left behind, along with its mild effect of calming the mind, made it a favorite for cultivators wishing to clear distracting thoughts or relieve stress.
Wen Yuelan closed the vial with gentle precision, her fingers lingering for the briefest instant.
"That is indeed Hollow Mist Brew," Han Xuan confirmed with a faint smile.
This particular brew was exclusive to his tavern—its recipe originating from the Rank 1 Wine Brewing Inheritance the system had granted him when his son was born.
Back then, he had received seven items: Rank 1 Wine Brewing Inheritance, Eternal Frost Sovereign Sutra, Myriad-Gate Toad Egg, Starcrest Sword Falcon Egg, Spiritual Root Advancement Chance, Seven Star Sword Set, and Ice Soul Needle.
Among them, the Wine Brewing Inheritance contained not only profound knowledge about brewing but also the formulas for five kinds of Rank 1 spiritual wines—all unheard of in Blueleaf Market.
Only Han Xuan could brew them.
Unfortunately, despite his skill, he had been able to produce only three of the five so far. Not due to lack of ability, but because the materials required for the remaining two were rare—simply impossible to find within Blueleaf Market's limited resources.
Han Xuan picked up the second vial. He said as he offered it to her, "This one is Ironleaf Spirit Ale."
Wen Yuelan opened it. A metallic herbal aroma brushed her senses, bold and earthy.
"It strengthens the body slightly and enhances resilience," Han Xuan explained, "Good for metal-attribute cultivators or anyone practicing body refinement."
She nodded appreciatively.
Then he passed her the third vial. A soft, floral-cold fragrance spread into the air the moment she opened it.
"This is Crescent Dew Nectar," Han Xuan said, "It enhances perception, aids meditation, and helps stabilize emotions—especially effective when cultivating at night."
Wen Yuelan closed the vial slowly, her fingertips lingering on the cool jade surface.
"These are all… impressive." Her voice was quiet, controlled, as if suppressing something deeper: "Your craft has reached a new level, Brother Xuan."
However, professionalism swiftly reasserted itself. She straightened her posture, her expression returning to calm neutrality.
"But to determine their market value, I will need to call a professional appraiser. Even though I trust your explanation, the pavilion has strict protocols for incoming spiritual goods."
Han Xuan nodded, "I understand."
Wen Yuelan stood and rang a small bell, "Please wait here. I'll summon the appraiser."
She turned toward the door, her figure framed against the twilight.
But before stepping out, she paused for the briefest moment—her voice lowering.
"…It's been many years since I last appraised something you made."
Then, as if those words had never been spoken, she exited the room with quiet footsteps, leaving Han Xuan alone with his thoughts and the three vials of his hard-earned spiritual wine.