I woke to the sound of raised voices filtering through the way station's walls. Wei Lin was already up, standing by the window with a concerned expression.

"Trouble?" I asked, reaching for my outer robe.

"Young master throwing his weight around," Wei Lin replied. "Xiao clan, from the looks of it."

I joined him at the window. In the courtyard below, a group had gathered around what appeared to be a confrontation. At the center stood a young man in elaborate silver-trimmed robes, his qi flickering with barely contained aggression. Around him stood several attendants, all wearing the cloud pattern that marked them as Xiao clan servants.

"Xiao Feng," Wei Lin said before I could ask. "Third son of the Xiao clan's fourth branch. Known for his... forceful negotiations."

The target of Xiao Feng's attention was a young cultivator in plain brown robes, the mark on his sleeve identifying him as a disciple from one of the smaller sects. The Star's Rest Sect, if I remembered correctly – barely worth mentioning in most cultivation circles.

"You dare claim your sect's spirit herbs are equal to the Xiao clan's?" Xiao Feng's voice carried clearly across the courtyard. "A third-rate sect like yours should know its place!"

The Star's Rest disciple stood his ground, though I could see the slight tremor in his hands. "Our herbs are grown with traditional methods passed down through generations. The quality speaks for itself."

I felt movement beside me as Lin Mei slipped into our room, her expression troubled. "I heard the commotion. That disciple... his technique for growing Winter Frost Grass is actually quite innovative. I saw his samples yesterday."

"Innovative or not," Wei Lin said quietly, "he should have known better than to compete with a Xiao clan merchant group."

The crack of flesh striking flesh drew our attention back to the scene. Xiao Feng had backhanded the disciple, sending him stumbling back.

The way station guards studiously looked elsewhere, their practiced indifference speaking of long experience with such "disputes."

Lin Mei started forward. "We can't just—"

I caught her arm, shaking my head. "Wait."

"But—"

"Look," I nodded toward a figure at the edge of the crowd.

A young man in simple but well-made robes, his hand resting casually on a sword hilt. His qi signature was carefully masked, but there was something about his bearing that caught my attention. The way he watched the scene, the controlled anger in his stance, could he be...

"Amateur," Wei Lin muttered, following my gaze. "He's going to—"

"How dare you!" The sword-bearing cultivator stepped forward, his voice ringing with righteous indignation. "Bullying a fellow cultivator over mere business? Have you no shame?"

"And you are?" Xiao Feng turned, his expression a perfect mix of amusement and disdain.

"Li Yuan, disciple of the Flowing Stream Sect." The young man's voice carried that particular tone I'd come to recognize – absolute confidence backed by either tremendous power or tremendous foolishness. "And I cannot stand by while you abuse your position."

"Flowing Stream Sect?" Xiao Feng laughed. "At least the Star's Rest sect knows herbs. What does a sect of river-watchers know of anything?"

Li Yuan's response was to draw his sword in one smooth motion. The blade seemed to catch the morning light and hold it. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

The crowd quickly backed away, forming a rough circle around the two cultivators. I noticed the guards shifting position, maintaining their studied disinterest while ensuring they had clear lines of sight.

"Thousand Ripples Sword Art!" Li Yuan moved first, his blade tracing patterns that somehow reminded me of sunlight on water. The technique was genuinely impressive – each strike flowing into the next with liquid grace.

Xiao Feng sneered and raised his hand. "Stone Wall Palm!"

Li Yuan's sword strikes splashed against Xiao Feng's defense like waves against a cliff, neither giving ground.

"Not bad," Wei Lin murmured. "The Flowing Stream sect's techniques are known for wearing down defenses over time. If he can maintain the pressure..."

Li Yuan pressed his advantage, his sword moving faster. "Flowing Stream's Third Form - Cascading Rapids!"

The attack pattern changed, becoming more aggressive. Strikes rained down from multiple angles, each one testing Xiao Feng's defense for weaknesses. It was beautiful to watch – like a dance where every movement carried lethal intent.

Xiao Feng's expression shifted from contempt to concentration as he was forced to actively defend. His Stone Wall Palm technique began to show cracks, spiritual energy leaking through gaps in his defense.

"Mountain Crushing Strike!" Xiao Feng suddenly abandoned defense for a single powerful attack. The qi-enhanced blow should have been devastating, but Li Yuan's blade was already moving.

"Flowing Stream's Ultimate Technique - River Cuts Mountain!"

The sword technique shifted again, transforming from multiple strikes into a single perfect cut. Li Yuan's blade found the exact point where Xiao Feng's qi was weakest, slicing through his defense like water through sand.

Xiao Feng went flying, landing hard among the market stalls. His elaborate robes were torn, and blood trickled from where the sword's qi had cut his chest.

The crowd was silent. Li Yuan stood calmly, his sword still glowing with that strange inner light. It was exactly the kind of scene that usually preceded a young master's dramatic revelation of hidden power or...

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Xiao Feng pushed himself up, wiping blood from his mouth. Then he started laughing.

"Shit," I muttered. That kind of laughter never meant anything good.

"Do you actually think," Xiao Feng's voice was eerily calm, "that I would travel alone?"

The air suddenly grew heavy with killing intent. Two figures materialized from nowhere – cultivators in the same cloud-marked robes as the other servants, but these ones radiated power that made my skin crawl.

"Elemental Realm," Wei Lin breathed. "Both of them."

Li Yuan's confident stance faltered as the pressure of their combined auras pressed down on him. "You... you would hide behind servants? Where is your cultivator's pride?"

"Pride?" Xiao Feng's smile was cruel. "Pride is for those who can afford it. Power is all that matters. Chang Li, teach him."

One of the Elemental Realm cultivators – Chang Li, apparently – vanished. He reappeared directly in front of Li Yuan, who was still trying to make some speech about justice and righteousness. The guard's hand moved in a casual backhand that sent Li Yuan flying through several market stalls.

I winced at the sound of impact. From the angle of Li Yuan's neck as he lay among the wreckage, I was pretty sure we wouldn't be seeing any dramatic comeback.

"Destroy the body," Xiao Feng ordered, brushing dust from his robes. "Make sure there's nothing left to find."

Chang Li nodded and raised his hand. A ball of pure white fire formed in his palm – not regular fire, but spiritual flame hot enough to incinerate both flesh and soul. He flicked his fingers and the flame engulfed Li Yuan's broken form.

I watched as the body crumbled to ash in seconds, not even bones remaining. Well, there went any hope of Li Yuan being a secret protagonist who would return later for revenge. Even in cultivation novels, it was hard to come back from having both your body and soul reduced to nothing.

"Let that serve as a lesson about knowing one's place," Xiao Feng announced to the silent crowd.

I added 'completely destroyed by Elemental Realm spiritual fire' to my mental notes about the "training accident" report the guards would undoubtedly file.

Another would-be protagonist, another tragic end. In cultivation novels, the hero always survived such encounters through plot armor or hidden powers. Reality was rarely so accommodating.

"And that," Wei Lin said quietly as the crowd began to disperse, "is why we don't interfere in young master's business."

Lin Mei was pale but nodded. "I... I understand. But it's not right."

"Right doesn't matter," I said, surprising myself with the bitterness in my voice. "This world operates on power. Everything else is just pretty words we tell ourselves."

Wei Lin gave me an odd look. "That's... surprisingly cynical coming from you."

I shrugged, not trusting myself to explain further.

How could I tell them that I'd seen this scene play out countless times in stories? That for every successful protagonist who rose from humble beginnings to shake the heavens, there were thousands of nameless cultivators who died thinking they could change things through determination alone?

"The problem is," I said carefully, "many cultivators speak and act like they’re Heaven’s Chosen. They make grand speeches about justice and righteousness, challenge young masters without regard for consequences, and believe their determination will somehow overcome vast power gaps."

"And that's... bad?" Lin Mei asked.

"It's suicidal," Wei Lin answered before I could. "The cultivation world isn't a story. Power is real, consequences are real, and acting like you're the hero of some grand tale is a good way to end up dead."

I nodded. "You either need to be completely insane or have absolute confidence in your abilities to act like that. And it's always safer to assume someone has that confidence for a reason."

"My father always says the successful merchant is the one who assumes everyone else is stronger, richer, and smarter than they appear," Wei Lin added. "Same principle applies here."

The way station was returning to its normal morning routine, merchants already setting up replacement stalls as if nothing had happened. The Xiao clan guards had resumed their posts, and Xiao Feng was holding court among his followers as if the entire incident had been merely amusing entertainment.

"We should get moving," Wei Lin said, checking the sun's position. "Better to be well away before the young master decides he needs more entertainment."

As we gathered our things and prepared to leave, I couldn't help but think about Li Yuan. Had he really believed his righteousness would protect him? Or had he known the risks and chosen to act anyway?

"His qi had signs of recent advancement," Azure commented. "Likely drunk on his breakthrough to the seventh stage of Qi Condensation. Combined with what appeared to be a legendary grade sword... a common recipe for tragedy. Young cultivators often mistake new power for invincibility."

I nodded slightly. Azure had a point - I'd noticed the sword's unique glow myself. Too bad the Xiao Clan had 'confiscated' it.

But how many resources had the Flowing Stream Sect invested in Li Yuan, only for him to throw it all away in a moment of righteous indignation?

Either way, his story had ended here, just another cautionary tale reminding me about the difference between cultivation novels and reality.