The inn was so bright and warm that Jiang actually stopped in the entrance in surprise, until a few of the patrons cursed at him and he remembered he was letting all of the warm air out.

Even then, the complaints had been mostly good-natured. It was… not quite confusing, but definitely unexpected. He'd gotten so used to the dour, restrained nature of the Sect that he'd forgotten how open mortals could be.

People could be, he corrected himself a moment later, a little discomforted to realise how easily cultivator vocabulary had started to supplant his own. He shook the thought off and stepped further inside, letting the door fall shut behind him.

The inn bustled with the comforting hum of daily life. At least two dozen patrons filled the tables, their voices bright and overlapping in a steady drone of cheerful conversation. Jiang wove between the tables carefully, ducking around an older man enthusiastically telling a story punctuated by dramatic hand gestures, his companions leaning in with laughter at every pause. A pair of children raced past, giggling wildly and nearly bowling Jiang over in their haste. He spun out of the way, blinking after them as they vanished behind the kitchen door, pursued by an exasperated girl—probably an older sibling—holding a broom and yelling empty threats.

Well.

If nothing else, it was more lively than the Sect.

It was a good bit more lively than his village had ever been as well, with the exception of a couple of the more popular festivals. It made sense – being so close to the Sect doubtlessly meant they had far more travellers passing through, which generally meant more people spending money, which meant more people moving in to try and make their fortune.

Despite his usual aversion to large groups of people, Jiang found himself relaxing. The hearth crackled warmly at the far wall, flanked by a cluster of villagers warming their hands and arguing good-naturedly over who owed the next round of drinks. Wooden beams overhead gleamed softly in the firelight, worn smooth and dark from generations of use. The scent of fresh bread and roasting meat wafted from the kitchen, making Jiang's mouth water despite himself.

It felt… not quite like home, but closer than anything else had been in months.

Clearing his throat and forcing his thoughts back on track, he approached the polished wooden counter that stretched across the back wall. Behind it stood a round-faced woman in her middle years, her cheeks rosy from the warmth of the fire and the exertion of keeping the busy inn running smoothly. Her hair was tucked beneath a colourful scarf in deference to the weather, but her sleeves rolled up as she set down a heavy tray with a satisfied sigh.

She glanced up and caught sight of Jiang, her eyes instantly lighting with motherly warmth. "Well, look at you! Aren't you just frozen right through, poor dear! Come here now—by the Heavens, don't just stand there shivering."

"I'm not—" Jiang began, startled by her immediate concern.

"Not another word, young man," she said briskly, reaching over the counter to brush invisible snow from his shoulders, tutting softly under her breath. "Heavens above, where is your cloak? You'll catch your death running around dressed like this."

Jiang tensed slightly under her fussing, unsure how to respond. "I'm fine, really," he managed, shifting awkwardly. "The cold doesn't bother me much."

He did add buying a cloak to his mental list, though. A good cloak was worth its weight in gold, and even if he didn't need the warmth quite as much as he once did, it would keep the rain off his head or could be used as bedding in a pinch.

Also, not wearing a cloak would make him stand out.

"Oh, nonsense," the woman chided affectionately, as though scolding her own child. "They always say that, don't they? Stubborn as mules, all of you. Now, sit yourself by the fire. I'll fetch you a bit of tea—warm you right up." Her voice softened, eyes twinkling kindly. "What brings a little thing like you out here by yourself, anyhow? Your parents send you to fetch something for them?"

Jiang felt his face heat, and he straightened reflexively, biting back irritation. "Actually, I—"

"No, no, let me guess," she chirped, entirely oblivious to his growing discomfort. "You've run errands for your mother, haven't you? Thought you'd have a little adventure, brave the weather like a proper grown-up."

Jiang grit his teeth. "No, I—"

She patted his arm sympathetically. "Of course you have, dear. Just like my youngest. Always wants to prove himself. It's quite all right—I won't tell your parents you stopped for tea."

He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, already knowing this conversation was going to be even harder than he'd expected. Was this karma or something? Had he been a terrible person in some previous life, and this was his punishment?

"Look," Jiang interrupted, more sharply than he'd intended. The woman blinked at him in gentle surprise, and he winced, quickly trying again in a slightly softer voice. "I'm not here running errands for my parents. I'm here to get supplies. For myself."

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She raised her eyebrows, clearly not quite convinced. "Oh, well isn't that just adorable. You're not on an adventure; you're planning one, aren't you?"

"No," Jiang grumbled, face hot with embarrassment, "I'm travelling alone. I'm serious."

She tilted her head, looking thoughtful, then nodded kindly as though deciding to humour him. "Of course you are, dear, how silly of me. Well, if you really are travelling, you'll want to stop by Old Lao's store—it's the best place for good, sturdy supplies. Tell him Madame Wei sent you; he'll be sure to give you fair prices, bless him."

"Thank you," Jiang managed only a little stiffly, grudging politeness warring with lingering irritation.

"Oh, it's nothing at all, my dear," Madame Wei said cheerily, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Such a cute, polite young gentleman, aren't you?"

Jiang scowled, though judging by the way she cooed at him, he suspected it came across as more of a pout. He'd only realised it after the encounter with the guards, but it was likely that his advancement in cultivation had actually made him look younger than he actually was. Same reason Li Xuan still looked like a midget despite reportedly being well into his forties.

"Give it up, kid," the man drawled. "You could come back here with a beard halfway down your chest, and she'd still fuss over you like you're eight years old."

Jiang bristled, ready to snap back something suitably cutting, but before he could speak, Madame Wei leaned comfortably over the counter and, with the practised ease of a woman entirely unbothered by such things, reached out and pinched the man's stubbled cheeks affectionately.

"Oh hush now, Li Wei," she cooed sweetly. "Look at you, acting all tough and grumpy. Why, I still remember when you brought me flowers and stammered out a proposal so adorable it nearly melted my heart. You've grown up so gruff, haven't you? Don't worry," she winked, "I still think you're cute and polite as well; no need to be jealous."

Li Wei spluttered indignantly, swatting uselessly at her hands, his cheeks colouring beneath his rough beard. "That was—woman, that was more'n twenty years ago, leave it be!"

Jiang stared in disbelief as laughter broke out around them, good-natured but distinctly gleeful at the older man's embarrassment. Even the storyteller from earlier paused mid-gesture, grinning widely as Li Wei sank lower in his seat, glaring at his drink with red-faced indignation.

Seeing his chance—and deciding he would rather die than risk Madame Wei giving him the same treatment—Jiang quickly ducked back from the counter, murmuring a hasty farewell.

"Oh, be careful, dear," Madame Wei called after him, waving cheerily, oblivious to Jiang's urgency. "Mind you bundle up when you go back out—can't have you catching a chill!"

Jiang bolted from the inn, deliberately ignoring the ripple of amused murmurs that trailed behind him as the door shut with a firm thud. It wasn't fleeing, he assured himself firmly—just a strategic retreat. He drew in a deep breath, savouring the bite of cold air to steady himself.

He'd gotten barely halfway down the street before he realised he'd completely forgotten to ask if Madame Wei had any work available. Without at least a few copper coins, his chances of buying supplies were slim at best.

He considered—briefly—going back inside. A vivid image of Madame Wei cooing sympathetically, possibly even patting him on the head or pinching his cheek, flashed through his mind, making him shudder violently.

Nope. He'd take his chances at Old Lao's shop.

After all, dignity might not buy him much—but he wasn't quite ready to abandon the last shreds of it yet.

— — —

Old Lao's shop was easy enough to find. It sat nestled comfortably between two larger buildings, a squat structure of solid, weather-worn timber, with windows fogged by warmth from within. A simple wooden sign bearing a faded carving of a merchant's scales swung gently above the doorway. Jiang hesitated just outside, mentally preparing himself for another potentially humiliating encounter.

If the way the guards reacted was any indication – to say nothing of Madame Wei – his apparent age was going to be something of an issue going forward, and he either needed to get used to it now or figure out a way to sidestep the problem.

Unfortunately, he wasn't coming up with any good ideas.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The interior was comfortably cluttered, lit by the soft glow of oil lamps and crowded with shelves filled with neatly arranged goods—everything from dry foods and bolts of fabric to racks of iron pots and neatly coiled rope. Near the back, stacks of sturdy leather bags and bedrolls gave way to displays of simple weapons, tools, and travelling gear. Jiang's eyes lingered briefly on a row of cloaks, folded and stacked in a neat pile on a corner shelf, and he reminded himself again to make sure he picked one up.

Behind the counter stood a lean, wiry man with greying hair pulled back into a neat knot. Old Lao's weathered face held lines carved deep from years of laughter and mild irritation alike. He was carefully arranging a stack of newly arrived wooden bowls, muttering quietly to himself as he adjusted their placement by tiny increments.

He glanced up as Jiang entered, raising one brow in mild surprise. "Ah, hello there, lad," he greeted amiably. His voice was warm, if faintly puzzled. "Haven't seen you around before. Need something for your folks?"

Jiang's spine straightened involuntarily, the faintest twitch of irritation flaring at the assumption despite knowing it was coming – but Old Lao caught the reaction almost immediately, his eyebrows rising apologetically.

"Ah—my mistake, young sir," he corrected smoothly, inclining his head respectfully. "Suppose I jumped to conclusions a bit fast, didn't I? Madame Wei sends enough younglings on errands that it's become habit to assume." He smiled, professional and polite, though with the faintest hint of uncertainty. "Traveling alone, are we?"

"Something like that," Jiang answered after a moment. Had the shopkeeper actually made a mistake, or was he just very observant and good at picking up on the moods of his customers? Either way, he wasn't about to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He moved closer to the counter, awkwardness prickling at the edges of his calm facade. "I just need a few supplies, if that's alright?"

Old Lao waved a dismissive hand, relaxing slightly as the conversation returned to familiar territory. "Of course it's alright," he chuckled. "I'd hardly keep a store if I didn't want folks coming in to buy things, now would I? Come, tell me what you're looking for. We've got just about everything you might need on the road."

Jiang felt an odd pang of nervousness at that—he hadn't even mentioned his money situation yet, but the ease of Old Lao's manner made it harder to speak up. Instead, caught momentarily flat-footed, he found himself starting to list off the supplies he'd mentally tallied earlier.

He just hoped he wasn't about to embarrass himself even worse here than he had at the inn.

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