Long Xiao activated his Divine Rant, plunging into a mental realm as dark and turbulent as a storm-tossed sea. The atmosphere in his spiritual throne room was heavy with despair, as if a calamity had just shattered the heavens.
"Okay… so what just happened?" he whispered into the void, voice trembling with shock.
"Xu Lianhua! She's… she's a monster," the anxious facet cried, clutching his spectral face.
"A money-hungry monster," the cynical facet retorted dryly.
"Work for her?!" The prideful facet's voice exploded with indignation, his spectral chin lifting high. "Do I look like some kind of servant? No way—no way in the Twelve Heavens am I doing manual labor for a mortal!"
"Calm down," the cautious facet urged. "Practicing unrighteous acts like fleeing without paying—or letting Lei demolish her inn—would trigger divine punishment. We'd lose centuries of merits, and we're already under scrutiny. We can't afford a cosmic audit right now."
"But that still doesn't mean we have to obey a mortal!" the prideful facet snorted. "Especially one who triples her prices with a smile! Hmph!"
"We must see the bigger picture," the pragmatic facet sighed, rubbing his temples. "We have to bide our time. The simple truth is, we cannot afford to pay her outright."
The prideful facet muttered, "This is utter degradation."
Finally, the original Long Xiao's internal shoulders slumped. "I shall reluctantly agree," he murmured, deactivating the Divine Rant.
After deactivating the Divine Rant, Long Xiao stopped pacing. He stood frozen for a long moment, staring down at the garments with deep resentment. Letting out a heavy, soul-crushing sigh, he slowly reached out. He struggled to lift the fabric, his fingers tensing as if the clothes weighed as much as massive mountain rocks. Long Xiao held the tunic at arm's length by the very tips of his fingers, his nose curling in sheer disgust.
With a profoundly heavy heart, Long Xiao reluctantly slid into them. He carefully took off his breathtaking celestial robes. A gorgeous blue and white silks intricately embroidered with fine golden and turquoise threads that gently swirled with living constellations, folding them away safely into the wooden drawer.
To a god accustomed to fabrics woven from divine starlight and lightning threads, these were not clothes. This uniform was an utter insult.
The outfit consisted of a coarse, traditional working-class tunic and loose trousers, dyed a dull, faded indigo that had seen far too many turns in a washbasin. The fabric was rough, unrefined mortal hemp—stiff to the touch and completely devoid of any protective spiritual arrays or elegant drape. The seams were thick and uneven, stitched with a heavy thread that promised to scratch against his pristine skin with every single movement.
There were no flowing, majestic sleeves to swing for dramatic effect; instead, the cuffs were narrow and bound tightly at the wrists to keep them out of grease, dishwater, and floor grime. To top off the indignity, a plain, patched canvas apron completed the ensemble, smelling faintly of old woodsmoke and kitchen vinegar. It was the ultimate badge of mortal servitude.
Holding the blank guest token tight in his hand, Long Xiao took a deep breath, braced his bruised royal ego, and finally left the room to descend the creaking stairs.
"I seriously don't want to do this." He gritted his teeth as he got to the bottom.
At The Ground Floor
—
The inn was so silent to the extent that you could hear a fly fly by. It wasn't crowded like the first day he arrived. No customers. No Noise. It was deliberately closed for this matter. Most of the guests were either in their respective rooms or outside, completely oblivious to what was about to unfold. Only the staff remained, standing rigidly in a line, their hands behind their backs, heads bowed in silent judgment. Xu Lianhua sat at a table, nursing a delicate teacup with calm precision.
"Ah, Senior Xiao Long," she grinned, rising smoothly. "I trust you've made your decision."
She moved gracefully toward him, extending her hand for a handshake. Long Xiao hesitated, then shook it. As their hands clasped, she slipped a strange bracelet onto his wrist.
"This is the Family Bonding Bracelet," she explained softly. "It's used among families and clans to keep track of each other. With this, you won't get more than a kilometre away from me."
Her gaze flicked to the token in his hand.
"Now, Senior Xiao Long," she said with a smirk, placing her hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad you saw reason. Remember, I treat my workers like… family."
Xu Lianhua pulled back, her gaze turning contemplative as she stood before her workers.
"Senior Xiao Long, could you point out the worker who served you?" Lianhua asked, using a cultivation technique to gently lift a chair and set it a few meters away. She then produced a curved dagger from her sleeve, catching the light as she toyed with it.
The inn was dead silent, the air thick with a stillness that had nothing to do with a lack of wind. It felt as if a single wrong sound could shatter the world. Long Xiao's gaze fell on Xu Lianhua before shifting to the workers, their heads bowed so low they almost seemed to be bowing to the dust on the floor.
The entire inn was deathly silent, the stillness almost oppressive. It felt as if one wrong sound could shatter reality. Long Xiao's gaze flicked between her and the line of workers—eight women and seven men—lined up like offerings. Their heads bowed so low they seemed to worship the dust beneath their feet.
"This place is… terrifying," Long Xiao muttered to himself, a shiver running down his spine.
He moved slowly, each step echoing in the unnatural silence, his divine senses probing each face until he stopped before worker number eight, whose bangs hid her eyes and sweat glistened on her face.
"It was her. She served me." Long Xiao pointed, voice firm. The others flinched and quickly retreated, leaving her isolated.
The innkeeper's voice, usually as smooth as silk, was now cold and sharp.
"Senior Xiao Long, are you certain?" She asked, twirling the dagger with practiced ease.
"I never forget a face,"Long Xiao said proudly, flipping his long black hair.
"Good, because as discussed, her fate shall be sealed," Xu Lianhua began, a chilling finality in her voice. But she was cut short. Her eyes widened, her twirling of the dagger coming to a sudden end.
Suddenly, the worker—a young woman named Lina—fell to her knees, voice trembling.
"Madam, please! Spare me! I… but you—"
A metallic scent suddenly filled the air. Blood splattered onto the ground followed with a soft thud of a body hitting the ground. Lina's words were abruptly cut off the dagger the innkeeper had been twirling the whole timeThe dagger, guided by her cultivation, sliced across Lina's neck with deadly precision, draining her life force as blood erupted.
"Oh my heavens!" Long Xiao's eyes widened in horror, covering his mouth with his right hand.
Long Xiao stared for several seconds. "I was expecting mortal drama," he muttered. "Not... whatever that was."
He almost clapped in awe.
"Zhaoge, this place is dirty. Tidy up," Lianhua suggested calmly, rising from her seat to wipe the imaginary filth from her dagger.
"This… this is brutal," he whispered, stunned.
Xu Lianhua's expression was cold and calm as she rose, wiping imaginary dirt from her dagger.
"Zhaoge, tidy this up," she ordered casually, her voice devoid of emotion. The other workers immediately moved to scrub and wash the blood away, their motions mechanical, almost ritualistic.
Long Xiao watched in silent disbelief, feeling a deep, unsettling recognition.
"This… is the Art of Insanity," he murmured, realization dawning.
He had expected unpredictability. He hadn't expected someone to treat death as casually as sweeping dust from the floor.
The scene had unfolded so quickly, with such a chilling lack of emotion, that Long Xiao felt a sudden, profound discomfort and intrigue.
Xu Lianhua approached him again, her steps measured and elegant. She bowed slightly, her tone eerily warm.
"I hope you forgive us for the tea incident, Senior Long Xiao. Welcome to the family."
With a swirl of purple light, she vanished upstairs, leaving Long Xiao alone with the workers' furious scrubbing and the echo of his pounding heart. The silence that followed was suffocating. The only sounds were of the workers and the rapid beat of Long Xiao's heart.