“…What?” Sect Master Bing Xuan faintly muttered.
“And then, in the side alley… I saw it.”
“Faded wood, a crooked roof, walls that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. And not just one. There were several, all worn down!”
“But…”
“That one building… that one door…”
“It felt different.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, Elders, but… that one specific door, it was calling to me!”
“Whispering my name. Begging to be opened.”
“I had to enter it.”
“No. I must enter it!”
“Even if ten thousand demonic beasts stood before me, I would still walk through that door.”
He looked the elders dead in the eye.
“The establishment I entered… was an outhouse.”
Silence.
The kind of silence that came from confusion, secondhand embarrassment, and disbelief.
Dou Xinshi nodded proudly, both hands now clasped.
“A toilet, yes… but not just any toilet.”
“It was the portal. The divine threshold. The gateway to this realm of flavors and miracles.”
Sect Master Bing Xuan covered her face with one hand, even though it was already hidden by her blank white mask.
Sect Master Jiang Xianwei made a sound that was either a snort or a cough.
And Emperor Yunlan Haorang quietly turned to face the window, his shoulders shaking suspiciously.
“Truly.” Dou Xinshi whispered. “Destiny has impeccable timing.”
The conversation that followed was, in theory, supposed to be a simple information-gathering session.
It was not.
While they did manage to extract useful facts about the strange and sun-blasted Scorching Soul City.
They also found themselves constantly sidetracked by Dou Xinshi’s impassioned storytelling.
It wasn’t entirely his fault. He just happened to be… overwhelmingly devoted.
To the store.
To the experience.
And especially to the people inside it.
At one point, while describing how he stumbled into the place, Dou Xinshi solemnly referred to Hao not as a storekeeper or owner, but as the Esteemed One.
Even more bewildering was his take on Mo Xixi.
He called her “the Saintess.”
Saintess?
Bro.
That’s the heir of the fallen Ashen Curse Cult – a demonic cult so infamous that entire clans used to go missing if they so much as insulted them in the wrong tone.
The kind of cult where their recruitment flyers probably dripped blood and came with curses as freebies.
Mo Xixi was supposed to be the future leader of a terrifying dark organization, not someone you call “blessed.”
According to Dou Xinshi’s highly animated retelling, she had performed an act of divine mercy by gently pushing him at the very moment his body was on the brink of failure.
A moment so dramatic, so critical, that if not for her intervention, he claimed his “dark dragon” would’ve burst forth in public – his over-the-top way of referring to a very real, very unfortunate case of potential bowel disaster.
A tragic fate narrowly avoided, and in his words, “a dignity almost lost to the winds of destiny.”
Honestly, if the Ashen Curse Cult had any idea their heir was out here being praised like a sacred nun for blocking a near-diarrhea episode, they’d probably cough blood in their graves.
But Dou Xinshi meant every word. Completely and utterly convinced.
To him, this wasn’t just a store. This was a holy land.
A miracle site.
And as he continued rambling about flavors and cool air and the way the floor didn’t burn his feet like back home, the elders finally understood –
This boy was not just a regular customer.
He was a fanatic.
Also a somewhat lunatic on top of that!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the store…
Old Tiger Zhao squatted by the fridge, scratching his chin.
Squinting at cans. Picking one up. Putting it back. Picking it up again.
He took his time.
Until a very delayed realization hit him.
“…Wait a minute.”
He didn’t have to think this hard.
He could just grab whatever he hadn’t bought today.
With the carefree confidence of a man who just unlocked a cheat code, Old Tiger Zhao loaded his arms.
He didn’t have to think about the cost. It was all free anyway.
He was like a child let loose in a candy shop.
While everyone else was still caught up in Dou Xinshi’s divine toilet prophecy, he wandered over.
“Old man,” Old Tiger Zhao called out, entirely unbothered.
“I’ve picked what I want. We can pay it now.”
And as casually as someone about to borrow a lighter, he reached out to tap the emperor on the shoulder.
Clack.
A massive hand blocked his path.
Pang Wuqing.
Eyes alert. Arm out. No words spoken.
But Old Tiger Zhao didn’t look at him.
Didn’t need to look at him.
He just smiled… and something shifted.
His voice dropped. Calm. Icy.
“Step up, kid… or this uncle’s gonna get serious.”
A pressure rolled out. Quiet but suffocating.
Pang Wuqing’s pupils shrank. His arm faltered slightly. Just enough.
His instincts screamed.
This man, this guy who looked like he hadn’t slept indoors in a week –
Could absolutely obliterate him.
In that moment, the homeless uncle aura became war god.
And Pang Wuqing, for all his strength, didn’t dare test it.
His instincts blared louder than any command.
If he pushed forward – if he tried to block again -he would eat a punch so heavy it might erase his entire cultivation path.
No dramatic buildup. No flashy technique.
Just one hit. Swift, brutal, final.
His body froze, wiser than his pride.
Across the room, the air seemed to shift.
None of them had expected that.
Emperor Yunlan Haorang rose from his seat.
He walked over with a smile, warm and charming –
And without missing a beat, slung an arm over Old Tiger Zhao’s shoulder like they were old drinking buddies who hadn’t met in years.
“That one’s on me, Elder.”
“My guard’s a little too enthusiastic sometimes. I hope you’ll forgive the boy.”
He gestured casually to Pang Wuqing, who was still half-frozen in place.
“Now, before we settle the tab…” The emperor smiled, glancing toward the glass-door fridges.
“Would you mind terribly if I grabbed a Peach Oolong Tea first?”
“Been thinking about that all day.”
It sounded so genuine. So harmless.
Behind the friendly eyes and easy laughter was a calculating mind.
He wasn’t just an emperor. Yunlang Haorang was the caliber of man who could make an enemy bow and call it respect.
Old Tiger Zhao blinked at Emperor Yunlan Haorang.
He grinned. The tension was gone.
“I really like you, old man!” he said, laughing.
“That’s good! Let’s get your drink first!”