The room was not elegant, not in the traditional sense. The lacquered walls bore hairline cracks beneath their sheen, and the air—though masked by slow-burning incense—carried faint traces of sweat, candlewax, and something harder to name. It wasn't a refined scent, but it was real—lived-in. The kind that clung to silk sheets and lingered on skin long after the night had ended.
Velvet drapes framed the window, their edges frayed where fingers had tugged too often. A single lantern cast a warm, flickering light, softening the harsher shadows and lending the space a dreamlike haze. It was the kind of room that didn't pretend to be anything it wasn't. Not opulent, but charged with memory—of laughter, of trembling moans, of promises that dissolved with morning.
At the center, a low table stood between them.
Mistress Lan sat with her back straight, the hem of her robes flowing like ripples around her. Her gaze flicked briefly to the teapot before she reached for it, delicate fingers curling around the handle.
She poured herself a cup, lifted it to her lips, and took a slow, measured sip. Her eyes closed just for a breath of a moment.
"Mmm," she murmured appreciatively, letting the warmth curl on her tongue before setting the cup down. "Refined. A bit earthy at the base, but with a bright finish. This isn't ordinary tea."
Yanwei, who had taken a seat opposite her with the same lazy composure he wore like a second skin, allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips.
"It's not," he said simply. "It came from my father's collection."
Mistress Lan set the cup down with a soft click.
"I don't have much time," she said, calm but firm. "Just ask what you want, pay, and leave right after. As you can see—" she glanced at the girl beside her, "—little Rose doesn't seem to like you very much."
Rose crossed her arms with a pout. "I don't hate him. I just don't like the way he acts. That's all."
Yanwei gave a small smile, unbothered.
"Sure thing," he said. "Then I'll be direct."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet but steady.
"What's going on? The air feels off. People are tense. I just came out of seclusion, and it feels like I missed something big."
Mistress Lan gave a short laugh, lips curling with mild amusement.
"Oh, so you really were out of the loop."
She took another slow sip of tea before answering.
"The Divine Sword Sect is furious. One of their factions was humiliated in front of other sects. Only a few people saw it when it happened, but of course, word still got out."
She set the cup down and met his gaze.
"From what I've heard, their heir is dead. And the one being blamed is no other than the heir of the Gentle Breeze Sect."
Yanwei's eyes narrowed slightly, though his face stayed calm.
Mistress Lan tilted her head, watching him.
"Does that clear the air for you?" she asked, her voice light but not without meaning. "Or did you walk out of your seclusion hoping things would be peaceful?"
Yanwei tapped the table lightly with his finger, eyes half-lidded in thought.
"Hmm… it started already? That was quite fast. Divine Sword Sect doesn't want to lose in the long run, huh…"
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Does the sect master really care that much about that Zhang guy? His personality was decent, I'll give him that… but his talent? Just average. Even my little Yun is better."
He looked up, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"If it's war," he said slowly, "then the public atmosphere shouldn't be this heavy. I'd guess they've already started hiring rogue cultivators. Am I right?"
Mistress Lan's eyes gleamed, and a slow smile formed on her lips.
"Indeed," she replied. "Seems like you're not that stupid after all."
Yanwei chuckled softly, the sound low and casual.
"Forget about that," he said, waving the topic away. "What's more important for me right now is—do you know where I can find a material that contains all four natural elements?"
Mistress Lan blinked.
For the first time, she looked genuinely surprised—but only for a second. She quickly regained her calm and leaned back slightly, eyeing him with new interest.
"Heh… seems like you're ready to spend a lot of money," she said, her voice teasing but sharp.
Yanwei gave a friendly smile, almost too casual for the weight of his question.
"Nah," he replied. "It's just that my father's a bit of a pushover. Wants me to be his successor and all that."
He paused, then added with a glint in his eye, "Though by the looks of it, it seems like Miss already has an idea what my goal is, huh?"
Mistress Lan smiled again—this time, slower, more thoughtful.
"I have a guess," she said. "But I wonder if you'll confirm it."
Yanwei didn't even blink at her teasing tone. He just smiled and replied casually, "No need to play these games, Miss. You're too pretty for that."
Mistress Lan let out a soft, more feminine laugh this time—lighter than before, like something slipped past her usual control.
"You're quite flirty, huh," she said, shaking her head with a small smile.
Suddenly, Rose let out a quiet cough, trying to stifle it behind her hand. Both Lan and Yanwei turned to look at her.
She straightened up immediately, eyes wide. "I—I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Please continue your discussion."
Mistress Lan chuckled again, and Yanwei only raised a brow in mild amusement—unbothered as always.
Yanwei kept smiling, relaxed as ever.
"How about it, Miss Lan?" he asked. "Do you know where it is? It's just Rank 1 material—even though it's quite rare compared to other items at the same level. I'm pretty sure you have that kind of info, right?"
Mistress Lan mirrored his smile, but with that familiar glint in her eyes.
"Of course we have that information," she said slowly. "But… it's going to be a little expensive."
She leaned in just slightly, resting her elbow on the table.
"I wonder… are you mentally prepared to pay for that?"