Chapter 1263: You have already passed

For someone who continuously avoided leaving the headquarters unless forced—and even then, only if someone else dragged him out—here he was, strutting about far from the safe walls of the Order.

And the caveat of it all? He was doing it willingly.

Nobody had asked him. Nobody had subtly threatened him. He was just out here, walking around and visiting places that the Yang Qing of last week would have sat him down and given a thorough tongue-lashing for even thinking about.

Visiting the grounds of an ancient rank-two sect was already bad enough( Which he now strongly felt that the Order needed to seriously revise its assessment of the place, given all he’d seen there. There was no way they didn’t have at least four soul formation experts tucked away somewhere in all that rich heritage—and very rich ANCESTRAL DRAGON VEIN.)

But then, to go and visit yet another place steeped in history—one with a legacy so drenched in warfare that it literally fractured in name and in body—and which, to preserve that legacy, now looked poised to spark yet another war.

Only this time, they seemed highly ambitious to outdo all the previous ones.

And yet… in his infinite wisdom, Yang Qing had walked into one of the suspected hot zones for that very war.

As if that wasn’t enough, he was now in yet another dangerous location—one that not only held slightly antagonistic views toward the organization he belonged to, but also had a tendency to be attacked by a group composed of the worst individuals the continent had to offer.

Now that he thought about it more keenly… this was crazy dangerous. Everything he was doing was completely out of character.

And to make matters worse, he was even skipping meals.

Out of fear for the worst, Yang Qing quickly gave himself a once-over, checking to see if some kind of spell had been placed on him to influence his actions.

He didn’t find anything.

Not that it made him feel any better, because he knew his foe all too well. The Order was as thorough as thorough could be. If they’d done something to him, then he’d be the last to know. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have suffered so many losses in his past schemes against them.

Yang Qing’s expression shifted swiftly, from panicked to one of valiant grimness. The sudden change once again drew a disconcerted look from the young lady playing the sanxian.

Yang Qing had presented yet another expression she didn’t expect her melody to evoke.

He looked like a warrior walking into the fight of his life as he entered the teahouse with grim determination.

She even slowed her playing slightly, using the corner of her eye to glance inside the teahouse—curious to see what kind of foe lay within.

But what she saw only confused her more. The teahouse was just as it always had been: warm and lively.

Yang Qing, unaware of the confusion he’d caused the young lady by the entrance, walked into the teahouse with steady, purposeful steps. He had almost gone down an erroneous path—luckily, he caught himself just in time.

Spirit stones in hand, he was going to order everything there was to order in this house.

Once inside, Yang Qing was greeted by the warm, soothing aroma of steeped tea leaves—earthy, floral, spicy for some, and delicately sweet for others—all blending perfectly with the scent of burning mountain springwood incense. It mingled seamlessly with the bookish smell of old parchment and ink that had seeped into every inch of the place—walls, furniture, even the roofing above.

Its ambience instantly calmed Yang Qing as he subtly looked around with benign interest. It was just as he’d expected—not the decoration, of course, but the air of the place.

Whatever he’d seen on the streets was replicated here: heated discussions over books, spirited debates over other topics and games, warm conversations in every corner, and some patrons quietly lost in their own worlds.

He admired the masterful paintings on the walls, the evocative poems strewn about, and the elegant calligraphy on the floating lanterns above, before finally making his way to the stairs leading to the next floor.

The ground floor was packed. Every table was occupied, and Yang Qing was far too paranoid—and not nearly thick-skinned enough—to impose. Especially not with what he was about to do.

Just as he was about to head up to the second floor, one of the servers—a mature lady with amber hair tied in a bun and a warm, motherly smile—seemed to take notice of him and began walking over.

“Welcome to the Velvet Orchid Teahouse, kind sir. My name is Cai Shan, one of the supervisors here. Is this your first time?” she asked kindly.

Yang Qing nodded with a polite smile and cupped his fist. “It is. My name is Yang Qing, and a friend of mine suggested that if I was ever in Yunnan, I should pass by the Velvet Orchid. So here I am—and I must say,” he paused to glance around, not hiding his fascination, “it really captivates the soul.”

“Oh? Seems we have another poet with us,” Cai Shan said with a light laugh. “I’m glad we met the expectations,” she added promptly.

“Since it’s your first time, I’ll have Sun Biya help you around,” she said, waving over another lady, much younger-looking, likely in her twenties, with light pink hair, a slender, slightly tall frame, and bright, expressive eyes.

It went without saying—she was a complete beauty, as were all the other staff members, including Cai Shan.

After a brief introduction between the two, Cai Shan left Yang Qing in Sun Biya’s hands.

“Will you be expecting company, or will you be alone?” Sun Biya asked kindly, her smile matching Cai Shan’s warmth.

“I’ll be alone.”

Sun Biya nodded, then followed up, “Since it’s your first time here, I’ll explain the features of our floors.”

“Features?”

“Yes,” Sun Biya said with a nod. “We have four floors, and each has its own theme, so to speak. This floor’s theme is conversation, as you can see,” she said, gesturing to the crowd around them.

“The second is reading, so you’ll find it much quieter and less active than this one. The third floor’s theme is expression—that’s where you’ll find bards, storytellers, poets, painters, and the like plying their craft.

“The fourth floor is a subtle blend of all three, though it leans more toward the atmosphere of the first and second floors,” she explained patiently.

“Though, when it comes to the fourth floor, there is a sort of restriction that doesn’t apply to the others. But you don’t have to worry about that since you’ve already met it,” she added with a slight smile, casting a meaningful glance from Yang Qing to Cai Shan, who returned it with a warm smile of her own as Yang Qing curiously glanced her way, before turning his attention back to Sun Biya.

Both Sun Biya and Cai Shan were palace realm experts—the former at the first stage, and the latter at the third, just like him. From what Yang Qing could sense, Cai Shan carried Haoran Qi, and as for Sun Biya, he suspected she was more likely a weapon user of some sort, given the faint sharpness in her qi, even though it was exceptionally well restrained.

Having already decided which floor he’d go to—and not particularly curious about whatever restriction the fourth floor had—Yang Qing gave his answer.

“If there’s a free table, I’d like to try the fourth floor, please. I feel it might have the best view of the river and the city.”

“Very well,” Sun Biya said politely as she led him to the fourth floor.