Yanwei stood there for another long, painful moment, surrounded by leaning towers of books that looked ready to collapse if he breathed too hard. A vein twitched near his temple.
"…This is genuinely getting on my nerves," he muttered, voice flat but edged with annoyance. A thick tome slid off a pile behind him. Thud. His eye twitched again. He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Furniture is really needed now," he said, clearer this time, as if declaring war on the concept of disorganization itself.
He stretched, arms lifting over his head, back popping once, muscles loosening from the silent frustration tightening them. He held the pose for a moment, then let his arms fall.
Without another word, he stepped over a fallen scroll, nudged a half-open manual out of his path with his foot, and headed for the doorway. He didn't look back. He refused to give the mess that satisfaction.
Yanwei clicked his tongue once as he stepped out of the room.
"It'll be a good time to take Wuyan for a walk as well," he muttered.
He stepped outside and spotted her curled up on the floor, asleep again.
With careful hands, he scooped her up.
Wuyan blinked, startled at first, ears flicking back in surprise, but when she realized Yanwei didn't care about her little protest, she relaxed.
He shifted slightly, adjusting her, and placed her gently on top of his head.
Wuyan perched there, tail twitching once, eyes half-lidded in reluctant acceptance.
Yanwei straightened, feeling the small weight above him, and began walking, the grey, lifeless world stretching out before them.
….
He stepped outside.
The rain had stopped, but the sun wasn't shining either. The world remained grey and lifeless.
Wuyan jumped down from his head and stretched, her movements slow and deliberate. It was obvious her mood had been affected by the miserable environment.
Yanwei pressed a hand to his forehead, thinking that this cat was so picky she couldn't even tolerate a short amount of time in a bad place.
After her stretching, Wuyan wandered off, and Yanwei quietly removed any trace of his presence. Even if it was small and almost impossible to notice, he didn't care.
Finally, he left, heading out to inquire where he could even buy some furniture.
…
By the time Yanwei reached the market, the place looked gloomy. The sun wasn't shining, but the rain had stopped. Dust hung in the air, and the few cultivators wandering around looked tired and weak. Most were ordinary, barely moving with any purpose. It was strange, but he didn't pay it much mind. If he needed information about what's going on, he could buy it.
Furniture, on the other hand, was a different story. Even thinking about it made his teeth grind. He could build anything, but inspecting warped wood, judging shaky tables, and negotiating with careless sellers was tedious. Shelves needed to hold hundreds of books. Tables had to survive Wuyan jumping on them. Storage had to be practical and sturdy.
He started asking around, moving from stall to stall. His cultivation wasn't visible at the moment, so anyone watching him wouldn't know he was anything special. Most people here were weak cultivators, clearly new to the world of cultivation, and they assumed he was just a mortal since he was asking about ordinary furniture.
Most sellers shook their heads or pointed vaguely, clearly uninterested in helping. Yanwei ignored them and repeated his question, calm but firm. He needed an artisan shop, nothing more.
Meanwhile, Wuyan wandered nearby, tail flicking as she picked up a few candies someone had left on a stall. She sniffed them, batted one around, and finally ate it, looking entirely pleased with herself.
Yanwei didn't pay attention to wuyan. He had already found a shop. His eyes scanned everything at once, and his chest felt a little lighter.
It didn't have a name. Tables, shelves, chairs, and cabinets were stacked everywhere. It was chaotic, but in a good way.
He checked the prices. They weren't high at all. Relief washed over him.
He bought a ton of furniture without hesitation. A tall black shelf that looked like glass but was solid and sturdy. He could already imagine it holding all his books.
Tables with jade inlays and porcelain finishes. Chairs with deep, soft cushions. Even small cabinets with carved patterns that glimmered faintly.
Wuyan hopped around nearby, sniffing the items. She batted at a cushion and hissed quietly, as if questioning his taste. Yanwei ignored her. He knew she would adjust eventually.
Finally, he stepped back and surveyed everything. His chest tightened a little with satisfaction. This was the start of a proper home, and for the first time in a while, it felt like progress.
Yanwei was already using the face he was impersonating before his breakthrough.
After leaving the shop, he immediately felt it, the presence of a Rank 2 cultivator who had been monitoring him ever since he survived that secret realm.
He sighed. He already knew what was coming. This man would definitely make a move. A Rank 1 managing to slip past a Rank 2? Impossible. Even if this cultivator was not solely focused on him, a Rank 1 does not just vanish without a trace. Interrogation was inevitable. This world was far more ruthless than most people imagined. As long as you were a potential threat to a sect, even the paranoid would rather kill the wrong person than risk letting someone survive.
Yanwei licked his lips. "I used up three-quarters of the blood from the Rank 1s I collected just to make a breakthrough, reaching 6.25% of this body, which is equivalent to a Rank 2. I wonder how much blood and essence of a Rank 2 would be needed to reach an even higher level."
He walked leisurely, not worried. He did not think the Rank 2 monitoring him was particularly strong. If he were, what kind of idiotic sect would waste him on watching a cultivator below a major level?
Yanwei scoffed quietly to himself and continued walking.