Han Rui sat at a bustling outdoor teashop, his expression somber as he tuned out the lively chatter of customers and passersby. His fingers drummed incessantly on the wooden table, a soft rhythm that mirrored his restless thoughts. Every so often, he sighed, his gaze wandering aimlessly over his surroundings.

Two weeks had passed since the meeting with the faction representatives at the Han estate. In that time, he had finalized a series of contracts and issued detailed instructions to Xianlong and the elders. The buzz surrounding the potential sale of the QiPhones hadn’t waned, but he had once again taken up the role of a traveling merchant, peddling his creations on the ever-busy streets.

Han Rui sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting toward the slightly worn umbrella shading him. I finally managed to get a decent face today, he thought bitterly, but why is it so damn hard to sell these things? Don’t they realize I’m trying to help them here?

[I can’t tell if you’re playing dumb or genuinely dense. Would you buy something from some shady-looking character if you were in their shoes?]

Han Rui glanced at the snarky notification, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Should I just go home and try again tomorrow?” he muttered, puffing his cheeks in frustration.

A subtle ding echoed from his inner robes. Han Rui retrieved a QiPhone lazily and glanced at the screen. A message notification flashed across it, the sender’s name making him sit up straighter. Without hesitation, he opened it.

Rui’er, today’s the day we distribute the QiPhones to everyone in the clan. Will you be attending?

Han Rui’s brows shot up as he read the message. Wait, that’s today? I totally forgot. He quickly began typing a response.

I won’t be attending, Grandfather. I’ll leave it to you and the elders. Have fun! 👍

He sent the message and stared at the screen as the double checkmark appeared, then turned blue. Almost immediately, new text appeared below it:

Best Grandfather Ever! is typing…

Han Rui chuckled, shaking his head.

Best Grandfather Ever!: Alright. You’ve been going out a lot lately. Stay safe, and don’t fall for the wits of those heartless women—they’ll rob you blind and leave you heartbroken. Also, we’ve prepared the goodwill package for the Eternal Spring Sect, but we’re waiting for your Great-Grandfather to leave first. Otherwise, he might rob them blind instead! 👍

Han Rui laughed softly. I really feel bad for the Eternal Spring Sect. They must be wondering what they did to deserve this. He could already picture Wuchen wreaking havoc on the sect, pillaging its resources with a gleeful grin. Shaking his head, he took a sip of tea.

Well, now that I know today’s the QiPhone distribution, I definitely can’t go home. I don’t want to deal with those annoying brats and their parents. He sighed, leaning back in his chair again. But then again, I haven’t had much luck today.

Although the guards, servants, and elders of the Han estate treated him respectfully, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the main clan. To them, Han Rui was little more than a disappointment—a stark contrast to the legacy of his parents.

He slipped the QiPhone back into his robes and drained the rest of his tea. Maybe I should try the red-light district this time. Someone there might actually buy something. If not, I’ll look for the Po brothers—they’ll at least keep me entertained until late.

As Han Rui signaled the waiter, a wave of gasps rippled through the teashop. He turned, following the wide-eyed stares of the crowd, and froze.

A stunning couple approached the teahouse, drawing every gaze like moths to a flame. The man, clad in a simple black robe with an ornate silver sash, exuded effortless charm. His handsome features and powerful physique inspired equal parts admiration and envy, while his warm, disarming smile could melt the iciest hearts.

Han Rui frowned. This guy looks like a total playboy.

[Just admit you’re jealous. Unlike you, some people actually attract non-toxic women!]

Han Rui grimaced. He couldn’t deny it. His luck with women had been abysmal in both lives. Back on Earth as Jason, he had been painfully awkward, and reincarnating into the Sacred Martial World hadn’t improved his fortunes.

What’s so special about him anyway? Han Rui thought bitterly, trying not to let the system’s smug tone get to him.

Han Rui shifted his focus to the young woman accompanying the man. She was even more striking. Dressed in a simple white robe adorned with delicate floral patterns, she wasn’t an unparalleled beauty, but her allure was undeniable. She possessed the kind of charm that compelled a second, third, or even fourth glance. Her shy demeanor, flushed cheeks, and enchanting blue eyes gave her an air of vulnerability that tugged at the heartstrings, as though she were someone in need of protection.

As they approached, several passersby acknowledged the young man with nods or greetings, while envious glares from nearby women bore into the young woman. The couple entered the teahouse, their light banter and occasional laughter drawing even more attention. They settled a few seats away from Han Rui.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Customer, you called for me?” a middle-aged waiter appeared from Han Rui’s blind side, breaking his focus.

Han Rui turned, noting the thick bags under the man’s eyes, and subtly gestured toward the couple. “Who is that guy? Is he from a prominent clan or sect around here?” he whispered.

The waiter followed Han Rui’s pointed finger, recognition lighting up his face. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Han Rui shook his head.

“No wonder,” the waiter said knowingly. He glanced around before plopping down on the vacant bench across from Han Rui. “That’s Master Liang Zixuan.”

Han Rui frowned. The name didn’t ring a bell. “Is he famous in these parts?”

“Famous is an understatement,” the waiter replied, casually snatching a piece of untouched cake from Han Rui’s table.

Han Rui’s lips twitched at the waiter’s audacity, but he let it slide.

“So, what’s he known for?” Han Rui asked, his gaze drifting back to the couple. Judging by the deference in the waiter’s tone, he assumed Liang Zixuan must be a renowned cultivator.

The waiter, now chewing thoughtfully, finished his bite and leaned closer. “Master Zixuan is known around here as the Teahouse Loverboy.”

“What?” Han Rui blurted, loud enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables.

The waiter flinched, hurriedly shushing him. “Keep it down! Do you want my boss catching me slacking off?” He looked toward the counter, relaxed when no one appeared, and continued in a whisper, “As I was saying, the Teahouse Loverboy is just one of Master Zixuan’s many… colorful titles.”

“There’s more?” Han Rui asked, his curiosity growing.

“Of course,” the waiter said, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “Apart from the Teahouse Loverboy, he’s also called the Sect Leader of Second Choices, He Who Pours but Never Drinks, He Who Prepares the Bride for Another, The One-Cup Wonder, The Steppingstone Sovereign, and my personal favorite, Tea for Two, But Not for Long.”

Han Rui’s lips twitched, mirroring the trembling grin on the waiter’s face. They exchanged a glance and both struggled to contain their laughter. Han Rui bit the inside of his cheek while the waiter averted his gaze, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

After a few seconds, Han Rui composed himself. “Wait, are you telling me that guy over there isn’t a playboy but someone extremely unlucky with love?”

The waiter nodded solemnly, though the effect was ruined as he reached for another slice of cake and devoured it in one swift bite. “Trust me, something interesting will happen in the next five—no, ten minutes. Can’t you see how much attention Master Zixuan and his companion are getting?”

Han Rui scanned the area, noting the stolen glances from nearby women. Though they tried to appear indifferent, their heads frequently turned toward Zixuan, their expressions a mix of curiosity and envy. Han Rui’s gaze shifted to the young woman beside Zixuan, whose soft smile betrayed a hint of unease under the weight of so much attention.

Why are they all staring at him like that? Han Rui wondered, his curiosity piqued.

“What’s going to happen? Give me a hint,” he asked, leaning closer to the waiter.

The man smirked, shaking his head. “That’d spoil the fun. Just wait and see—it’s always a good show.”

Han Rui frowned thoughtfully, his eyes drifting back to Zixuan and his companion. Despite the waiter’s claims, he couldn’t reconcile the man’s dignified presence with such a litany of humiliating titles.

“What else do you know about him?” Han Rui asked, his tone quieter but still tinged with intrigue.

The waiter sighed, wiping crumbs from his mouth. “Master Zixuan’s past isn’t exactly a secret, but it’s… unfortunate, to say the least.”

“Why? What happened?” Han Rui’s interest deepened, and the waiter, clearly eager to slack off further, leaned in conspiratorially.

“Apparently, Master Zixuan used to be a disciple of the Sacred Valley Sect,” the waiter began. “And his position wasn’t low either.”

“So, he is a cultivator?” Han Rui asked.

The waiter shook his head. “He was. That’s the tragedy of Master Zixuan’s story.”

“Oh, tell me more.” Han Rui pushed the plate with the last cake slice toward the man, who needed no further encouragement.

The waiter devoured the slice in one swift motion, then continued, “Like I said, Master Zixuan’s status was anything but ordinary when he was still with the Sacred Valley. Rumor has it, several elders fought to take him as their disciple, and even more so to marry their daughters to him. Things were going very well for him until the last opening of the Forbidden Secret Realm.”

Han Rui’s brows furrowed. “What happened there?”

“No one knows the full details,” the waiter said, lowering his voice as though sharing a forbidden secret. “But the rumors say Master Zixuan’s dantian was shattered during the expedition, turning him into a cripple overnight.”

The waiter paused, sighing and shaking his head. “After that, everything fell apart. His master abandoned him. His fiancée cut ties. The ones who had envied him mocked him openly. Although the sect didn’t expel him outright, he couldn’t bear the shame. He withdrew voluntarily and ended up here in Celestial Ridge. These days, he makes a living as a painter and innkeeper.”

Han Rui’s gaze returned to Zixuan, who was chatting easily with the young woman at his table. A wry smile tugged at his lips. Who would’ve thought someone smiling so brightly had endured all that? And here I was calling him a playboy just minutes ago.

He cleared his throat. “So, how did he earn all those ridiculous titles?”

“A curse,” the waiter said, shrugging. “Or maybe a blessing depending on who you ask. Honestly, I’m not sure anymore.”

Just as the waiter leaned forward to elaborate, a trio of cultivators clad in grey robes approached Zixuan’s table. Embroidered on their backs were the words Mist Sword Sect.

“Customer,” the waiter said, grinning as if he’d been waiting for this moment, “you’re in luck. It’s about to start.”

Han Rui hesitated. “What’s about to start?”

The waiter ignored him, his attention glued to the unfolding scene as if watching a drama at its peak. Around them, the women who had been stealing glances at Zixuan dropped all pretenses, openly gawking at the spectacle. Anyone foolish enough to block their view was promptly met with slaps and glares sharp enough to kill.

Zixuan noticed the approaching cultivators and frowned. The lead cultivator, exuding an air of authority, stopped at his table, his eyes fixed on the young woman seated across from Zixuan.

A heavy sack materialized in the man’s hand, and he tossed it onto the table with a dull thud. Without sparing Zixuan a glance, the cultivator spoke to the young woman. “Miss, our senior brother is having tea in that establishment over there, and he has requested your company.” His gaze briefly flickered to Zixuan, disdain evident in his smirk. “This is compensation. It should be more than enough for you.”

Zixuan’s face darkened, his lips trembling with suppressed fury. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the young woman rose to her feet.

“Yue’er, let me handle this, my dear,” Zixuan said quickly, his voice laced with urgency. “You don’t have to—”

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” Yue’er interrupted, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Han Rui froze, his mouth partially open. What the—? His gaze darted toward the waiter, whose face bore no trace of surprise. If anything, the man looked completely unsurprised, as though this outcome were inevitable.

Han Rui’s thoughts raced. What a bitch. No fucking way…