“It’s so big,” Ishin gawked as he stood before the city’s iconic yellow dome.

  Navigating through the city’s busy furlough fairs had taken nearly two hours. Between the winding streets and the throngs of people, advancing every block felt like a battle. Not only was Yellow Dome City crowded, but the constant mass of people brought with it a smell that had been absent in Pale Fang Fortress. It somehow smelled of sweat, perfume, spices, dirt, sulfur, and blood all at once. Ishin didn’t understand how people could live in such a place.

  The arduous journey had all been worth it though. Lou Heng had led them to a wide open square in the city’s center. Each side of the square stretched a hundred feet and was lined with impressive buildings offering a variety of businesses. A building with slate-colored walls that gave the appearance of shields and was covered by a roof made from a thousand swords was called Jai’s Emboldened Armory. Ishin saw that another, seemingly lined with thousands of crystals, was called the Amber Shard Refinery. A third one, which looked like it had been grown from a grove of a hundred cherry blossoms, was the Rose Blossom Pleasure House. These impressive structures were all at least three times the size of the Sapphire Canopy and were decorated with beautiful engravings in a rainbow of colors.

  More interesting to Ishin, though, were the small stalls that rested between the greater enterprises. Those vendors offered simpler goods—fabrics, pottery, bowls of herbs and spices, and delicious-smelling snacks.

  Within the square, hundreds of city residents moved about, eagerly examining the wares and goods offered at the stalls, while the more affluent rushed into the larger stores. The sounds of haggling vendors, excited shoppers, and the ever-constant movement of supplies generated a cacophony of noise that drowned out any individual conversation. Above all of this activity towered the yellow dome, its massive foundation lying on the northern end of the square above an ascending stairway.

  The yellow dome’s sheer size eclipsed the now descending sun, casting a shadow over the city’s Central Square. Ishin observed that hundreds of lanterns had been strung above the square on crisscrossing cords webbed between the larger structures. To Ishin, it gave the appearance of a mass of fireflies constantly hovering overhead.

  “Eventually you’ll get used to this,” Lou Heng said. “All of this.”

  He and Ishin stood at the base of the stairway that led to the yellow dome. Despite the ever-present mass of people, Ishin noticed that people always made sure to stay at least three feet away from Lou Heng. Having grown accustomed to Lou Heng’s company, it took Ishin a moment to realize that the city’s inhabitants must have felt the Anji Elder’s dense spiritual pressure—and thought it best not to risk bumping into such a man.

  “I don’t see how I ever will.” Ishin looked around the city's Central Square. “I suspect this is where my mother intended to meet me in two days.”

  “It makes sense,” Lou Heng agreed. “When she arrives, I’ll be able to find her with my third eye.”

  “You can use it here, Elder?” Earlier, when they had first begun moving through the city streets, Ishin had tried seeing through his third eye to study the strength of the city residents. He’d encountered a sea of color so vibrant and endless that he’d been forced to shut it almost immediately. In hindsight, Ishin should have suspected as much given the sheer number of people.

  “As your cultivation increases in power, so does your sight,” Lou Heng said dismissively. “Now that we’re here, let’s find a place to rest.” He looked at Ishin and wrinkled his nose. “You could use a bath.”

  Ishin repressed a retort—partially to avoid offending Lou Heng, but mostly because it was true. He did reek, and a bath sounded very pleasant. I will follow your guidance, Elder.

  Lou Heng gave him a knowing look. “Because you know you’d be lost otherwise?”

  “Precisely.”

  That earned Ishin a laugh, and Lou Heng led him toward the eastern side of the city. He explained that the eastern quarter contained the more affluent establishments and should have inns of sufficient quality for them. Ishin understood what Lou Heng meant when they stopped before a six-story blue, green, and white building with a sign naming it the Moonpetal Hotel.

  When the two stepped inside, they entered a well-lit lobby adorned with a turquoise-colored rug. A middle-aged receptionist wearing a pale blue and yellow uniform stood ready at a desk and welcomed them with a warm smile.

  “Welcome to the Moonpetal Hotel, honored guests!”

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  Ishin figured the attendant must have examined them with his third eye, for his tone quickly changed as he gave a deep bow to Lou Heng.

  “My name is Meng Yu. How may I serve you?”

  “How much for two rooms and meals for two days and nights?” Lou Heng asked without preamble.

  Meng Yu straightened. “Senior, do you have any requirements for the rooms?”

  “Your cheapest.”

  With a nod, Meng Yu consulted an open ledger. “There are two rooms on the first floor available. With two meals a day for two days and nights, the price is three silver taels, if that is acceptable, Senior?”

  Ishin blinked at the cost. He didn’t know what a tael was—the Nine Striped Hills used a coinage called kaan—but three silvers of any denomination seemed high. Lou Heng reached into his satchel as he rested his umbrella against the front desk. He withdrew five square-shaped silver coins that Ishin recognized as silver kaan, and placed them on the desk.

  “Kaan from the Nine Striped Hills. From what I recall, five should be sufficient.”

  Ishin was glad that Lou Heng had any money on him at all—he’d left all of his behind before departing for Tyrant’s Rest.

  “Indeed,” Meng Yu said, sweeping the kaan away. He took out two bronze keys from his desk. Each had a number imprinted on it. “Rooms 45 and 46 are located down that hall on your right. Meals will be brought to your rooms in the morning and evening. The Moonpetal Hotel thanks you for your patronage,” he said with another bow.

  When Ishin arrived at his room minutes later, he was impressed. Inside was a space that matched the size of his own back home. It was furnished with a dresser, bed, and three chairs. There was even a kettle for tea and a small kitchen area. Most importantly, the room had its own bathtub with a sapphire sphere mounted at its head.

  Ishin recognized the sphere as a water-aspected spirit tool, similar to one his own home had. He’d never been able to use one before because of his inability to cultivate, but he’d watched Deng Xian use them. Like all spirit tools, it was designed to be activated by imbuing it with one’s qi. Ishin simply inserted some of his qi into the sphere, and streams of warm water flowed out into the tub. As minor a feat as it was, Ishin took pride in the simple task. He could finally use a spirit tool like everyone else.

  Spirit tools like these weren’t common, but neither were they unheard of in the Daihu Tribe. It took an artificer of sufficient skill to create one, making them rather expensive. His own manor only contained a dozen such tools, mainly used for heating, storage, and lighting purposes. In the Daihu Tribe, spirit tools were considered a luxury. Here, it appeared less so. To Ishin, it was a testament to the wealth of Yellow Dome City—and the quality of the Moonpetal Hotel—especially if its cheapest room contained such a tool.

  Two minutes later, the tub was filled and Ishin immediately discarded the ruins of his clothes. Noticing a bowl of medicinal salt beside the tub, Ishin placed them inside the bath. Euphoria spread through him as he lowered himself into the warm, steaming water. His muscles ached from the sweet relief that the water brought. For the first time in a month, Ishin could finally relax.

  A pang of guilt rushed through Ishin. Here I am, enjoying a luxurious bath… and my mother might be dead. He shook his head. No, she is alive. It will all be fine. He knew that worrying would do him no good, but that was easier said than done. Instead, Ishin calmed his mind and began to cultivate.

  If the bath can't distract me, then maybe cultivating can.

  Much like on his journey to Yellow Dome City, Ishin found that there was very little lightning qi for him to cultivate. He managed to cultivate for about an hour, making minor progress, before his body began to prune and he decided to exit the bath. There was, of course, a soft white towel available, and Ishin appreciated being clean for the first time in weeks. He left the tub and activated the spirit tool again. The water began to drain back into the sphere.

  As he dried himself, Ishin took the opportunity to examine his reflection in the bathroom’s oval-shaped mirror.

  The Sun Tiger had left its mark. Four scars marred his face, running from the right side of his forehead down to his lower left jaw. Thin and pale red, they looked brutal. A warrior’s mark if there ever was one. Another jagged scar ran along the outside of his right forearm. The Sun Tiger’s work too.

  Ishin hated the scars and vowed to pay a healer to help their recovery. He knew it’d be expensive, but it’d be worth it.

  Ishin left the mirror to pull out a different set of robes from his pack. These too contained the unmistakable musk of sweat, but by now all of his clothes did. At least they were only frayed and not covered in grime from the road and battle. Ishin put the set of robes on and couldn’t help but compare them to the elegant and polished silk robes he’d seen on the city’s inhabitants. His hemp robes, in comparison, made him feel lesser.

  Slamming his head against the soft feather pillow, Ishin cursed again. Even the mattress was better than his. If this is what’s in one city, I wonder what the rest of the empire has to offer. A better thought came to mind. I wonder what cultivation resources are here. Perhaps there was something in Yellow Dome City that could help him catch up to the senior disciples back home.

  Before long, Ishin’s imagination raced with possibilities. Few from the Nine Striped Hills ever made it to Yellow Dome City, so he knew it’d be foolish to waste such an opportunity. Perhaps when his mother arrived in two days, he could convince her to stay around the city before returning home.

  His mother.

  This time, when his thoughts turned to her, it wasn’t out of concern. No. Ishin had been in Yellow Dome City—the empire proper—for a single day and was already taken aback by the opportunities that were present. In comparison, the Nine Striped Hills almost seemed bare.

  Why would she have traded all of this… for the Nine Striped Hills in the first place?