As Han Xiao stepped through the gates into the Ancient Tàiyáng City, his eyes widened at the sight before him. Unlike the bustling chaos outside, the city’s interior felt surprisingly spacious. Wide roads stretched ahead, where several city carriages rolled smoothly, their polished wooden wheels barely making a sound against the cobblestones. On either side, the pavement was bustling with people, all moving with a sense of purpose. The air was clean, carrying with it the faint scent of incense from nearby temples, blending with the aroma of freshly cooked street food.

The architecture drew his attention next. Every building was a masterpiece of traditional Chinese design, with sweeping eaves, intricate wooden carvings, and tiled roofs that gleamed under the sun. Red lanterns hung from many doorways, swaying gently in the breeze, adding a festive atmosphere to the otherwise solemn structures.

However, as they continued, Han Xiao noticed the stark contrast within the city. Alongside the well-maintained roads and grand buildings, there were slums hidden in the shadows. These areas, though part of the same city, felt worlds apart. Here, the less fortunate huddled in narrow alleys, their clothes tattered, and their faces gaunt. Beggars with empty eyes sat by the roadside, their bowls outstretched, hoping for the kindness of strangers. Cripples and lepers, marked by the harsh realities of life, were scattered among them, their presence a sobering reminder of the city's unspoken struggles.

The stark contrast between the grandeur of the city's infrastructure and the grim reality of its underbelly left a deep impression on Han Xiao. The blend of traditional Chinese styles with the harsh reality of life created a complex tapestry that was both awe-inspiring and humbling.

Han Xue nudged Han Xiao lightly in the stomach, snapping him out of his reverie. “Brother, you really disappoint me this time,” she muttered, her tone carrying a mix of teasing and reprimand.

Ignoring her comment, Han Xiao walked into a nearby alleyway, where the less fortunate had gathered. With a calm demeanor, he began dropping coins into their outstretched bowls. The sound of blessings filled the air, as the beggars' voices grew hearty, their eyes lighting up with gratitude as the sunlight reflected off the gold.

“Oh! I didn’t know Prince Han Xiao had this side to him,” Ji Ying chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She followed his lead, dropping even more gold coins into the bowls, her smile widening as the beggars' praises grew louder.

Not to be outdone, Han Xue joined in, her competitive spirit flaring. It was as if they were engaged in a silent contest of noblesse oblige, each striving to outshine the other in their acts of charity.

In truth, Han Xiao’s actions weren’t solely driven by a desire to appear magnanimous. He had noticed something unusual about the last beggar in the row—an old man with dirty, long hair and ragged clothes. When he had scanned the beggars briefly with his Curse Eye, he discovered that this man had absolutely no Essence Chi, a phenomenon he had never encountered before. His curiosity piqued, Han Xiao used this opportunity to approach the man subtly, under the guise of charity. The unexpected participation of the two princesses only served to enhance his plan, making his approach seem even more natural.

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Just as Han Xiao was about to toss a gold coin into the bowl, the old man spoke in a rasping voice, “I appreciate your kindness, young master. But your gold coin holds little value to this old man. If you insist, then I have something else in mind.”

Han Xiao narrowed his eyes, watching the old man closely.

The mysterious beggar sat hunched against the wall, almost melding into the shadows of the alleyway. His figure was frail and emaciated, with bones jutting sharply beneath his ragged clothes, which were worn and tattered from years of hardship. His long, matted hair, streaked with gray, fell in disheveled clumps around his face, partially obscuring his features. The skin on his face was weathered and leathery, crisscrossed with deep wrinkles and age spots, as though he had endured countless harsh winters.

But it was his eyes that stood out the most. Though clouded with age, there was an unsettling depth to them, as if they harbored secrets long buried. His gaze was distant, vacant as if lost in thought, yet when Han Xiao approached, the old man’s eyes flickered with a brief, almost imperceptible awareness.

Clutched in his bony hands was a small wooden bowl, his knuckles white from the tight grip. The bowl, worn smooth from years of use, was empty, as though it had seen little kindness from passersby. Despite his outward appearance of frailty and destitution, there was an odd sense of composure and stillness about the old man, as if he was not entirely of this world, but rather a remnant of something ancient and forgotten.

Han Xiao’s lips curled into a smile that was not quite a smile. The two girls, unaware of his thoughts, jumped into the conversation.

“Sure, go ahead,” Han Xue said, her tone curious.

“If it’s within our means, we’ll gladly help,” Ji Ying added, her voice kind.

“Oh, then today is my lucky day.” The old man’s dry laugh was followed by a fit of coughing. “Excuse my poor health. Alright, since you’re all so magnanimous, I’ll share what’s on my mind.”

Fixing his gaze on Han Xiao, he continued, “Young master, I’m accustomed to a life of misery and destitution. Could you pass your Unlucky Dao to me? Just a word from you will suffice.”

Han Xiao’s grin widened as he thought, There’s definitely something off about this old man. My Unlucky Dao? Do I even have something like that? As if I’d fall for this trick.

Ding!

[Indeed, Master. Your Cultivation Technique’s Root is tied to the Unlucky Dao of Annihilation and Devouring. Refrain from speaking. This old man possesses a Unique Talent: Grappling Bloodline.]

Meaning? Han Xiao asked in his mind.

[It means he can seize others’ Root Daos.]

A cold realization hit Han Xiao as he screamed internally, Oh my gosh! Then all these beggars here must be his victims. This guy is evil. Why is the city head doing nothing? Is he not aware of this?

“Brother, just say it. It’s merely a figure of speech,” Han Xue urged naively, breaking into his thoughts.

Han Xiao glanced at her, his expression softening. He patted her head gently and dropped a gold coin into the bowl. Then, he grinned at the old man, as if his smile alone answered the request.

“Ugh! What a cheapskate! Just say the words,” Han Xue huffed, stomping her foot in frustration. She had wanted to show Ji Ying that the Han Nation had raised a truly gentlemanly prince. But her brother’s apparent reluctance thwarted her plans.

Even Ji Ying was beginning to sense that something was seriously wrong with the old beggar. However, Han Xue was too absorbed in proving her brother’s goodness to notice.

Clicking his tongue in mild irritation, the old man turned his gaze to Ji Ying. “Young Miss, I only ask for your Mischiefs.”

Ji Ying, now fully aware of the odd situation, thought, Noblesse oblige, my foot! You’re using the other beggars to approach this strange old man, aren’t you, Brother Xiao Er? She shot a quick glance at Han Xiao.

Another gold coin clinked as it dropped into the bowl.

The old beggar sighed with innocent disappointment and finally turned to Han Xue. After scrutinizing her, he asked, “Young Miss, you’re as pretty as a doll and so kind-hearted. Could you give me your Frigidness?”

Ji Ying reached out to stop her, but she was too late. Han Xue, glaring at her brother in frustration, responded, “Yes.”

Stupid brother! Is this how a Han Royal should behave? she thought bitterly.

But Han Xiao knew better. Whatever that old man was, whatever power he had, this was far from over. He hadn’t stopped Han Xue intentionally because he knew how dangerous her power could be. As he observed the interaction, he thought, Consider this a good lesson for him.