Bubai stepped through the wide open entrance of the establishnt, entering into the dimly lit foyer of the brothel.
The walls were draped in dark, velvety fabric, and the flickering lanterns cast shadows that danced across the plush carpets.
As the tip of his tongue tasted the air thick with a heady mix of perfu and mist, the proprietress approached, carrying a knowing smile.
Her eyes, sharp and observant, assessed him from head to toe.
"Well, well. What brings a noble master like yourself to our humble establishnt? Are you here to try our new tea? Or perhaps to discuss poetry with our peonies? This lady can guaranteed they are educated in all the fine arts!" she inquired, her voice a sultry purr.
Bubai t her gaze without flinching. "I'm here for information," he replied tersely.
The proprietress raised an eyebrow. "Information, you say? Oh… what a pity, but you've indeed co to the right place. Follow ," she gestured, leading him to the side and through a narrow corridor, echoing with a muffled symphony from the closed doors lining their route.
Descending a narrow sandstone staircase, the proprietress halted before a tal door.
Dong. Dong. "My lord, we have a guest."
"Let him in."
The proprietress pushed open the door, stepping aside and politely inviting him, "Please."
Taking a step, Bubai entered the hidden basent beneath the brothel.
The air grew cooler, and the scent of stale sandstone replaced the perfud air above.
In the ambient light, a half-dressed middle-aged man awaited him, reclining on a bamboo chair, coated with sheepskin.
According to his probe, he was just a late-stage Qi-refiner.
The man signaled for Bubai to take a seat across from him, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Haven't seen you around here before. First ti in the Ninth District?"
Bubai plopped himself down, crossing his arms, "Does it matter?"
"Ha... There are always people like you. Well, what kind of information are you seeking?" he asked, his tone businesslike.
Bubai leaned forward, his gaze like a predator seeking prey. "I need details about the Flower Picking Gang. Everything you've got."
"A simple request," The middle-aged man nodded, "But..."
A smirk played on his lips, his eyes watching Bubai the way a tiger watched a bunny. "Information cos at a price, my friend. A deposit is required upfront."
Without hesitation, Bubai tossed a low-grade spirit stone onto the table.
The middle-aged man examined it with disdain, shaking his head. "That can indeed be the paynt, but we don't accept that kind of deposit here."
With a languid motion, he clapped his hands, and a side door in the basent door swung open.
In walked a line of won, each with a unique charm – so with vivacious expressions, while others a rather dull one. Regardless, the colorful gem embedded on their foreheads spoke of the secrets of their origins.
Gemstone Paradise – it wasn't hard to guess where the na originates.
Though his divine senses had already analyzed the situation, Bubai's steely gaze remained fixed on the middle-aged man, his eyes unmoving.
Mistaking Bubai's reaction for disinterest, the middle-aged man insisted, "Please. Choose the tea that fits your tastes. You can make your deposit while I prepare the information."
rlin's beard. What kind of strange plot is this? Why can't this sect require sothing normal for once?! Uh, well… this was the norm for a dual cultivation sect, wasn't it?
Even so, it's still a bit strange to demand this unique form of paynt...
Bubai's suspicion was evident in his piercing eyes. "Is this necessary?"
"It's the proper procedure for first-ti custors from the outer districts," the middle-aged man explained, his grin widening.
Bubai scowled, "What if none of them can satisfy ?"
The middle-aged man chuckled, amused by the newcor's audacity. "If you have that ability, then you can... naturally leave after the normal paynt."
Bubai understood the establishnt's deep plot. This was, in fact, a test.
The Qi-refiners from the outer sect, driven by their unrestrained impulses and lack of control, were destined to inadvertently leave behind a trace.
On the other hand, there were always so Foundation Establishnt cultivators who "borrows" the guise of an outer disciple to acquire their desired intel - perhaps the information regarding their teammates involved in an external task.
As for the reason why… it wasn't hard to guess.
Thus, hidden identities was a clever practice that the sect overtly discouraged.
As a result, this hidden plot was used to filter out the troublemakers from the inner sect. Either reveal your true status or leave credentials for tracking.
Bubai's mind raced with thoughts of strategy and caution before he casually pointed towards one of the won without even glancing in her direction.
"Good choice." The middle-aged man's smile deepened as the chosen woman promptly stepped out of the line and approached Bubai.
Through his divine senses, Bubai feasted on her beauty in full HD quality.
The woman was exotic, tall, with wheat skin that seed to glow in the dim light of the basent.
One side of her long wavy black hair was pinned back by a floral pin, cascading down her left shoulder, allowing a full display of the face that carried an air of a queen.
The most attractive part was her fishnet dress that clung to her like a second skin, blatantly revealing her slim, killer figure.
Watching her move towards him, he noted her motions were as fluid as any human's, yet his divine senses detected a subtle rigidity in her movents, as if she were a puppet responding to an unseen puppeteer.
His suspicions were confird: the dolls of the Shadow Sun thod.
With a neat, royal etiquette, the woman respectfully knelt before Bubai, "Wang Fei greets my lord."
"Serve him well." A sly grin played on the man's lips as he gestured for another woman to make her exit through the side door.
Arms crossed, Bubai scowled at the man, his focus unwavering even when Wang Fei began brewing tea. "How long will it take?"
The middle-aged man responded with a perfunctory shrug, "Oh, it can take so ti. Won can sotis be clumsy and take a while. I'm sure you understand."
Bubai grunted outwardly, accepting the situation.
Secretly, his divine sense had already trailed after the departing woman, shadowing her every move as she made her way toward the confidential intel room.
Approaching the white jade door, the woman's every step was accompanied by the faint but distinct clunks of concealed chanisms echoing in the corridor.
With a grinding sound, the white jade door soon slid open, allowing his divine sense to slip into the room, combing through the plethora of scrolls ticulously organized in the nurous cabinets!
The abundance of information was constantly jamd into his mind, causing a slight ache, but Bubai pressed on because he was aware that he didn't have much ti!
He had barely explored a quarter of the room when the woman found the specific scroll containing his requested intelligence, and she began making her way toward the exit!
When she reached the door, Bubai had managed to archive less than three quarters of the room's contents, but he dared not linger any longer, lest his divine sense gets cut off.
He didn't know if there were any repercussions, but he didn't want to dance with the devil.
Retracting his divine sense, Bubai pulled out from the room.
Returning his focus to the transaction room, Bubai closed his eyes for a mont, granting his strained mind a montary rest.
Once the lingering ache subsided, he sorted through the collected info, clearing away the redundant copies, and setting aside the distinct yet generic intel for later browsing.
Afterwards, Bubai's divine sense flowed out once more, honing in on the woman already standing outside the side door, scroll in hand.
He quickly scanned the scroll and archived it in his ntal library, leaving it with the other info he had yet to read.
Having accomplished his objective, Bubai made an effort to rise, his hand reaching out for his spirit stone, "I would like to reconsider my purchase."
The middle-aged man's hand promptly intercepted, firmly holding down the spirit stone with a wide smile on his face, "The tea is a complentary service for the transaction. You've already drank part of it. So, if you leave now, you will still be charged… but a spirit stone isn't enough."
The line of dolls took a step forward in unison. A brief but intense stare-down ensued between the two.
"Tsk." Bubai's scowl turned into a subtle frown, his head lowering to hide the dangerous glint in his eyes.
After a mont of tense silence, he let go of the spirit stone, settling back into his seat with a relaxed posture.
Crossing his arms, he looked up once more, a scowl returning to his face, "Since you insist, don't mind if I do."
"Certainly, dear custor." Leaving the spirit stone on the table, the intel broker reclined back in his seat, "Your intel should already be on its way here and can arrive at any mont."
Heh. Indeed, it can arrive at any mont. It's just right outside the door.
Well, in this case, just let him give her the last rite.
So, Bubai enjoyed the tea session, ready to fill the delicate porcelain cup to the brim.
Surprisingly, the tea was exquisite, its flavor rich and nuanced.
Wang Fei's chanical motions belied the trained, instinctive skill with which she had brewed the tea, showcasing a peculiar blend of humanity and automation.
Coupled with her beauty, not losing out to Jia Fei's, she could definitely serve as an iconic model in his previous life, starring in action-packed movies most n would find hard to resist watching... just for the plot.
Alas, in this world, she was refined into a puppet to do the mundane chore of brewing tea.
However, it was undeniably a heavenly cup of tea, and the brewing greed for its exquisite taste was about to explode...
eting her attractive hazel eyes, without any change in his expression except a fleeting flash in his eyes, Bubai did not resist any longer, lest he delayed his good deed tonight.
"Well done. The deposit has been received." The middle-aged man clapped his hands in approval, a sound that reverberated in the dimly lit basent.
He gestured for Wang Fei to return to the line with a wave.
With another clap, the waiting woman, equally chanical in her movents, walked in from the side door, handing the scroll to the middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man took the scroll and, with a flourish, handed it to Bubai. "If you aren't satisfied, there won't be a charge," he assured, his eyes gleaming with amusent.
Bubai opened the scroll, his gaze scanning the contents, skimming over the superfluous content regarding the gang activities.
Before long, his eyes narrowed slightly as he finally reached the compact section containing information about the Flower Picking Gang's backer.
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