The lit inn was thick with the pungent aroma of rice wine and smoked meats. "Ugh...these days, it's getting harder," grumbled a grizzled man, clad in worn leather armor.

His calloused hands trembled slightly as he drained a ceramic cup of rice wine in one defiant gulp. Beads of perspiration glistened on his furrowed brow as the pure white liquid burned his throat.

His eyes were bloodshot and sunken, cheeks flushed from the alcohol's warmth. With shaky motions, he used his chopsticks to pluck a steaming dumpling from the plate before him, stuffing it greedily into his mouth.

Across the battered oak table, a hulking figure with a thick, steel-gray beard and a scalp shining like a cannon ball narrowed his eyes at his inebriated companion.

"Old Ba, didn't you say you wanted to change?" he rumbled, his gravelly voice tinged with concern. He brought his own modest ceramic cup to his lips, taking a slow, contemplative sip of the vintage before delicately skewering a dumpling and dipping it into the rich, white wine.

Upon hearing his words, Old Ba's face contorted in a scowl as the wine's vapors addled his senses.

"Even when times are hard, you must remember to stay alive for your family, even when they..." the bearded man reminded gently.

"Old Ma, I told you, don't talk about that. They're already gone," Old Ba slurred harshly, slamming his cup down and sloshing pure white droplets across the table's worn surface.

With clumsy, shaking fingers, he withdrew a shriveled, milky-white orb from the depths of his jerkin - a fresh eyeball.

"This thing and that damn Tower killed both my son and my wife!" he snarled, pounding his fist and causing the tableware to rattle.

His rheumy gaze bored into Old Ma's lined face, lips curling back from tobacco-stained teeth in a wordless snarl of anguish. "I-I can't, Old Ma...I can't! M-my wife...m-my son..."

While they were having a conversation, simultaneously...

The heavy oak door creaked open once more, allowing a brilliant shaft of golden morning sunlight to pierce the inn's smoky gloom.

Three weathered men in their thirties ducked through the entryway, their scuffed leather jerkins streaked with freshly blood stains.

Wicked scars crisscrossed their tanned features, and rust-pitted jians hung askew from their belts. They carried themselves with the casual, almost arrogant grace of seasoned martial artist.

"Damn it! Those damned creatures are curses!" one of the grizzled newcomers growled as they seated themselves at the nearby rounded oak table, slamming his fist on it with enough force to make the rickety wood groan in protest.

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The female server who had welcomed Ji Wuye, comely yet with a hunted, fearful look in her eyes, materialized at their sides.

"Welcome, esteemed Masters. May this humble one know what you would like to order?" she asked, wringing her hands anxiously as she eyed their bloodstained garments.

"Ah," the grizzled man seemed to soften as their gazes fell upon the comely serving girl. However, unlike her fearful imaginings, once these three men saw her, they instantly shed their rough demeanor.

"Please, three skewers and three Plum Blossom Wines, Miss," one of them spoke in a genteel tone, cupping his calloused hands in a respectful greeting.

The unexpected civility stunned her for a moment before she recovered with a polite smile. "Please wait."

As soon as the girl's back was turned, the trio's expressions morphed once more into masks of grim severity.

"How could those creatures arrive here so quickly? Isn't this Kunlun territory?" growled the one who had ordered, glaring fiercely about the dingy inn hall as if daring any listeners to challenge him.

His friend exhaled a weary sigh, shrugging his broad shoulders. "How would I know? Not only Kunlun, but even the other six big sects are having trouble handling these matters." He spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone, unwilling to be overheard.

…

While the rough trio and other patrons conversed in hushed voices, a solitary figure materialized from the shadows near the stairwell - Ji Wuye, garbed in pristine white martial robes.

He had been observing the proceedings keenly from his secluded corner, pale lips pursed as he eavesdropped. One slender hand cradled a modest wooden cup of steaming green tea as his crimson eyes scanned the inn hall with calculating intensity.

‘Attacks from strange creatures...casualties that even killed a challenger who survived until floor five...’ Ji Wuye mentally processed the snippets of overheard conversation while outwardly projecting an aura of perfect calm.

His thumb idly traced the simple looking sturdy oak surface cup .

Pausing to take a measured sip of the fragrant tea, Ji Wuye noticed one of the rough trio glancing his way, eyes narrowing at the sight of his white robes.

He responded with the faintest of nods and a polite cupping of hands, the hint of an enigmatic smile playing across his lips.

‘And lastly...’ Ji Wuye murmured inwardly, ‘The attack on the main road...’

As the rumbles of conversation grew louder around him, he drained the last drops of tea and rose fluidly to his feet, adjusting the voluminous folds of his martial robe. With measured strides, he took his leave of the increasingly raucous inn.

The brilliant rays of the late morning sun enveloped Ji Wuye as he emerged, squinting slightly against the amber glare. Without hesitation, he set off towards the outskirts of the village, his destination a sturdy, wood-paneled horse-carriage awaiting in a nearby.

"Done already?" the grizzled coachman asked gruffly, sparing Ji Wuye a sidelong glance as he busied himself with securing supplies.

…

As Ji Wuye conversed with the grizzled coachman, his Senior Sister Li Rong observed from a respectful distance.

She stood beside her own sturdy horse-carriage, having been about to instruct her driver to prepare for departure.

Dark circles shadowed her pale, delicate features - a testament to her utter exhaustion from the previous night's arduous pursuit of the mysterious "rats" plaguing and following the trail of her Junior Brother.

But then…

Li Rong blinked owlishly as she watched her Junior Brother emerge so soon from the village, amber sunlight gilding his crisp white robes. "Is it already done?" she spoke confusedly in a voice hoarse with fatigue, unable to stifle another jaw-cracking yawn.

Just as she had dared to hope for a respite and a chance to catch up on much-needed rest, Li Rong's eyes widened in dismay.

To her consternation, Ji Wuye's carriage began trundling forward, the coachman flicking the reins briskly.

Instead of coming back in her direction, toward the Kunlun, they strode in the opposite direction.

And only then, she also realized there were no telltale bags or crates indicating a journey to gather herbs - the seemingly innocuous task that the sect had assigned to her Junior Brother.

"W-what..." A muscle jumped in Li Rong's delicately sculpted jaw as she clenched her teeth, tamping down the surge of resentment she felt toward Ji Wuye for his role in depriving her of sleep yet again.

She drew a deep, steadying breath through flared nostrils, struggling to rein in her irritation.

The frustrating reality was that their Master had tasked her with taking over Ji Wuye's original mission in his stead, yet he had refused.

Now, her Master's second directive, in case her Junior Brother refused, was for her to dutifully safeguard him until the sect's task was deemed complete.

Yet now he had wandered off on his own once more, leaving her to scramble after him like a nursemaid with a wayward child.

"Uncle, please follow them," Li Rong instructed her own coachman through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to simply leap from the carriage herself and chase down her exasperating Junior Brother to interrogate him about his intentions.

The driver started in surprise at her curt command, knuckles tightening on the leather reins. "Eh? O-okay..."