Chapter CXLI: Wuyan

Yanwei smiled.

Too wide.

Too genuine.

The kind of smile that made him look harmless—just another bright-eyed drifter chasing pipe dreams.

He laughed easily, scratching the back of his neck.

"Boss, when's that Moonlit Pavilion event again? I wanna try my luck too. Maybe I've got a second talent hiding in me somewhere. I'll get famous, save the world, marry a dozen beauties."

The shopkeeper let out a wheezy laugh. "What a dreamer. You remind me of myself back when I still thought the heavens were fair."

Yanwei grinned. "So, when is it?"

The laughter faded. The man's expression shifted—just slightly. He leaned in, dropping his voice.

"Next month. Same day as today."

Then he hesitated, eyes scanning the market, checking if anyone was listening.

"I probably shouldn't say this," he murmured, "but I like your drive. Feels real."

Yanwei's head tilted, curiosity rising like baited breath.

The shopkeeper continued, voice low. "You know the Pavilion's test is free, yeah? But if it turns out you do have a second talent… you're bound. Contracted. They'll own you."

Yanwei's smile flickered, just a fraction.

"I figured."

The man scratched his jaw. "But… there's talk. Rumors. Nothing solid, but people say it might be possible to test without losing your freedom."

Yanwei's brows lifted. "How?"

"Some of the elites who showed up at the auction." The shopkeeper glanced around again. "Big shots. They've got their own methods, supposedly. If you manage to beg the right one—earn their interest—maybe they'll test you. No contract. No chains."

"Maybe," Yanwei echoed quietly.

"It's a gamble," the man said. "No one knows what their terms are. Some might take you in anyway. Others might ignore you altogether. And some—"

He leaned in further, voice almost a breath, "—are dangerous. Especially that one called Tyr. Word is, he's in a bad mood. Lost something big. If you're serious about trying… avoid him."

Yanwei nodded, slowly.

"And the others?"

"Hard to find. Don't stand out much now that the auction's over. But if you're lucky, you might spot one still wandering around."

Yanwei's eyes lit up with just the right amount of curiosity.

"Boss, do you happen to know where they were last seen? Maybe they already left the market?"

The shopkeeper scratched his head, frowning slightly like he was pulling pieces from a half-forgotten puzzle.

"Hard to say. Plenty of folks like you trying to chase them down. But from what I heard… the last anyone saw of them was after the auction. Just outside. After that, no one knows. They vanished."

Yanwei didn't look disappointed.

Not even slightly.

This was exactly what he'd been doing for the past few hours—drifting through the market, eyes open, mouth shut. Picking up fragments. Most led nowhere. But it told him one thing:

Velurya wasn't someone easy to follow.

He'd underestimated how slippery she was.

And how respected.

Still, he kept his smile light, casual. Shifted the topic like a bored traveler looking for entertainment.

"Ahh, no wonder it's hard. Say, Boss—what's up with that Tyr guy everyone keeps mentioning? Heard he's in a foul mood?"

The shopkeeper snorted immediately, eager to talk. "That guy? Don't even get me started."

He launched straight into it, arms gesturing wide, voice rising with every sentence—clearly enjoying the retelling.

Yanwei listened, nodding along, eyebrows raising, letting his mouth fall open in just the right places. Gasps, laughs, even a dramatic "Really?!" thrown in when needed.

All of it fake.

All of it practiced.

But it worked.

To the shopkeeper, he looked like just another clueless kid marveling at stories way above his level.

By the end of it, the old man wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye.

"Ahhh… serves him right, if you ask me."

Yanwei grinned. "Man. What a scene."

Inside, though?

He was already moving again.

Not his body.

His mind.

And Velurya had just become the center of it.

…

Night had settled across the city like a silk veil—quiet, cool, and calm.

Above, a half-moon hung suspended in the sky, sharp-edged and silver, like a blade polished just to gleam. It wasn't full, yet somehow more striking for it—mysterious, distant, cradled in the dark like an ornament the heavens had only half-finished.

Yanwei stepped through the tavern doors with a tired sigh. The day's noise still echoed faintly in his mind—vendors, gossip, boots on stone. He gave a few quick words to the sleepy innkeeper, ordered a simple plate of food and tea, then climbed the creaky stairs back to his room.

He dropped his wrapped bundle of supplies by the wall, kicked the door closed with his heel, and sat down.

Hard.

The black cat hopped off his shoulder and settled beside him. A moment later, its rough tongue began licking his fingers, slow and deliberate.

Yanwei chuckled softly, watching it.

"You're still full of energy, huh?" he said, voice light and worn. "It's so tiring… How about you, little guy? You've been sitting on my shoulder the whole day. Don't tell me you're tired too."

The cat paused its licking and just stared at him, eyes dark and unreadable.

Then: meow.

Yanwei smiled faintly, leaned his head back, and glanced toward the moonlit window.

"Hehe… it's so hard to find her. I hope we'll have better luck tomorrow."

He glanced back down at the cat, stretching his shoulders.

"I'm tired of calling you 'little guy' all the time. How about we give you a name, huh?"

The cat just stared.

"Alright then…" Yanwei tapped his chin, dramatic. "How about… Hei Feng?"

Chomp.

Yanwei winced. "Tch! Okay, okay… not Hei Feng."

He shook his hand, then grinned. "Fine. Let's try… Mo Chen?"

Chomp.

Again.

Yanwei narrowed his eyes. "You've got standards, huh? How about… Xuan Lei?"

CHOMP.

"Alright, that's just getting personal," he said, pulling his hand back with a hiss. "Now I'm curious."

He gently lifted the cat under its front legs and held it up, narrowing his eyes.

A beat passed.

Then his brows arched slightly.

A smirk curved across his lips.

"So you're a girl, huh."

The cat didn't deny it. Just blinked at him, tail twitching.

Yanwei laughed, a light, tired sound. "My bad, my bad…"

He set her down gently and thought for a moment, eyes drifting toward the darkness outside.

"How about something that fits you better then…"

He paused.

"Wu," he said softly. "It means black—like ink. Like mystery. But also elegance."

His eyes softened a little.

"Wuyan. Silent black. Mysterious and calm."

The cat didn't bite him this time.

Instead, she blinked slowly—then curled against his leg and closed her eyes.

Yanwei smiled.

"Wuyan it is."

The moon hung higher now—still sharp, still distant.

But inside the little room, things felt just a bit warmer.