Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation

221. A Cliché Trope

“Everlasting City?” Jin Shu muttered as he stepped through the gates. “Seems a bit pretentious for a backwater place like this.”The name alone surprised him. Titles like Everlasting were usually reserved for royal capitals—or at the very least, grand cities nestled deep within an empire’s heartlands. Not the first mid-sized settlement in some forgotten corner.

Then again, what did he know about naming things?

He’d named his daughter Silver.

And his spirit Blood Spirit Dragon.

His sense of naming was… a little on the nose, if he was being charitable.

At least Yin’er’s name had some affection woven into it.

Shaking his head, Jin Shu promptly forgot the city’s name altogether as he followed his mother’s map toward the shop she’d marked.

As he walked, he noticed cultivators scattered among the mortals—nothing impressive. The strongest barely brushed the mid stages of the Qi Realm. Rogue cultivators, most likely. There were no major orthodox sects anywhere near the city.

In fact, there were no major orthodox sects in the southern region at all.

The only truly dominant power here was the Demon Cult—unorthodox to the extreme. Whatever orthodox talents the region produced were usually seized early by the southern imperial family, leaving little behind but strays and independents.

He had the Immortal Phoenix Sect’s library to thank for that insight. Without it, he would’ve continued believing the entire south was populated by demonic worshippers. In reality, they made up only a fraction of the region’s cultivators.

Unfortunately, that fraction still controlled most of the land.

Jin Shu pushed the thought aside. That was a problem for later—specifically, for the point in his journey when he was forced to cross their territory. For now, he was relatively safe… so long as he didn’t stumble into them operating outside their borders.

All the thinking was making him hungry.

That, and the fact that it had been three days since his last proper meal—the old man’s soup back in the Village of Dread.

He followed the scent of food to a street packed with vendor stalls, most of them selling something grilled, fried, or steaming.

Stopping at random, he approached a stall selling meat skewers.

“Would you like a skewer?” the middle-aged woman behind the stall asked.

“Give me three,” Jin Shu said, holding up his fingers.

“One silver and five bronze.”

Jin Shu raised an eyebrow.

The old man’s generous bowl of soup had cost two bronze. Three modest skewers were somehow worth more than seven times that?

Not that it mattered.

He handed her two silver coins. “Keep the change.”

The woman blinked, then raised her brow. “Why not just buy four?”

Jin Shu opened his mouth… and paused.

She was right. Though it would’ve been better for her not to make him aware that he was wasting money.

“…Sure,” he said after a moment. “Give me four. And take this.” He passed over another silver coin. “Call it a tip.”

She accepted it and turned to the grill. “Rich folk,” she scoffed, clearly assuming he couldn’t hear her.

Jin Shu chuckled.

She wasn’t wrong. He was rich, and he was flaunting it.

Not intentionally, but that distinction rarely mattered to those watching.

After receiving his skewers, Jin Shu ate them slowly as he followed the route marked on the map. It didn’t take long to find the destination—the shop sat in a prime location along the main street, impossible to miss.

It was a luxurious jewelry store.

That alone made it stand out. The rest of the city leaned toward the rustic—functional buildings, practical designs. This place, however, was all polished stone, ornate trim, and carefully curated elegance.

Jin Shu didn’t doubt there were wealthy individuals in the city, but he did doubt there were enough of them to sustain a business that catered exclusively to the rich.

Yet the architecture told a different story. This shop hadn’t survived by chance—it had been here for a long time.

That realization only deepened his unease.

Taking a breath, he mentally braced himself for whatever horror his mother had arranged, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Glass display cases lined the interior, each filled with jeweled accessories—rings, pendants, bracelets—exactly what one would expect from a jewelry store. What he didn’t expect was the woman standing behind the counter.

She was fairly attractive. Not exceptional by the standards he’d grown accustomed to, but still comfortably above average. Likely late twenties, maybe early thirties.

That wasn’t what caught his attention.

It was her cultivation.

Late-stage Core Realm.

She studied him openly for a moment before smoothly slipping on a welcoming smile. “Welcome. My name is Ji Li. How may I help you today, sir?”

Jin Shu had no doubt that if he were poorer—or less presentable—he would’ve been ushered out without ceremony. Then again, his cultivation alone probably would’ve stayed her hand.

“I’m here to pick up an order,” he said, skipping pleasantries.

“For…?”

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his head. His mother had never said who the order was under. “Sun Mei’er?”

Ji Li retrieved a thick ledger and flipped to a marked section, her finger gliding down the page. After a moment, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. There’s no such name here.”

He sighed. “Try Jin Shu.”

She scanned the page again, stopping halfway.

“Found it,” she said, looking up. “You’re Jin Shu?”

“I am.”

She nodded once, then gestured toward a side lounge. “Please, have a seat. An order of this size will take some time to prepare.”

His brow twitched.

That sinking feeling returned—stronger than before. Whatever his mother had arranged, it was clearly not something small… or simple. Unfortunately, refusing wasn’t really an option.

Ji Li stepped out from behind the counter and led him to the lounge. Once he sat, she lifted a small bell and rang it softly. Moments later, a younger woman—around twenty—emerged from the back. She, too, was a cultivator, early Core Realm.

The girl bowed first to Ji Li, then to Jin Shu.

“Prepare Jin Shu’s order,” Ji Li said.

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied, bowing again before disappearing into the back.

Ji Li turned back to him. “Would you care for some tea?”

After the skewers, his mouth was dry. “That would be great. Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said, her smile carrying an edge he couldn’t quite place.

Jin Shu frowned slightly.

She set a tea table between them, then turned away as she leaned forward to arrange the set. The movement was… deliberate. Too deliberate.

His sense of foreboding deepened.

She was clearly positioning herself to draw attention—showcasing her figure with practiced ease.

And Jin Shu suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that his mother’s “order” involved far more than jewelry.

When the tea was ready, Ji Li lifted a cup and handed it to him, leaning in far too close as she did. Her robes tugged at her chest, revealing far more than necessary.

Jin Shu accepted the cup calmly. Still, he couldn’t help asking the question that had been bothering him.

“The woman who placed the order, did she leave any… special instructions?”

Ji Li blinked, then began to answer. “Actually, she d—”

The front door slammed open.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the shop as several people entered. Both Jin Shu and Ji Li glanced toward the entrance.

Ji Li’s expression soured for a fraction of a second before she smoothed it away, replacing it with a flawless—if clearly forced—saleswoman’s smile.

She stepped out of the lounge. “Welcome, Mr. Gu. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have a shop hand assist you shortly. Please feel free to browse until then.”

The man she addressed was pale and sickly-looking, average in height, and somewhere in his late thirties. Two tall, muscular guards flanked him. He himself had no cultivation at all, while his guards were merely Body Realm cultivators—barely more than mortals.

Not exactly impressive.

Which meant his background probably was.

“I’d rather have you attend to me personally,” Mr. Gu said, his eyes crawling greedily over Ji Li’s body.

Jin Shu suddenly snapped his fingers, sitting upright as he pointed at the pale man.

“Oh! Young master trope,” he said brightly.

What was that about there being no genres in real life? he thought, barely holding back a laugh. This is textbook Xianxia.

Mr. Gu scowled. “Who is this bumbling buffoon?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Guards. Remove him.”

“Yes, young master,” the guards replied in unison.

“Ah! See? Called it,” Jin Shu muttered, grinning.

“Mr. Gu!” Ji Li said quickly. “Please—for my sake—could you let this go just this once?”

Mr. Gu’s lips curled into a nasty smirk. “I suppose I could. But he’ll have to apologize first. On his hands and knees.”

Ji Li hesitated, her expression torn.

And then Jin Shu burst out laughing.

Not a chuckle. Not a snort. Full, hysterical laughter.

The entire shop went silent, everyone staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Sorry… sorry,” he said between breaths, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “This is just… too perfect. Honestly, it almost makes dealing with my mother’s nonsense worth it.”

He stood and walked toward Mr. Gu, gesturing casually as he spoke.

“Let me tell you what’s about to happen—stop me if I get something wrong.” He pointed at the guards. “First, I slap your guards to death. Then you threaten me with some name I’ve never heard before—probably your father or grandfather.”

Mr. Gu’s face darkened.

“I don’t care,” Jin Shu continued cheerfully. “I slap you to death. Then that relative shows up with slightly stronger men. I slap them to death too. They panic and call out another backing—still never heard of them—slap. Death.”

He nodded to himself, pacing.

“Eventually someone important arrives too late, furious, and guess what? Slapped to death. Then—plot twist—they were backed by the Demon Cult. So now I’ve offended someone who might actually be stronger than me.”

He paused, smiling.

“I escape. Power up. Come back. Slap them to death.”

Another nod.

“This repeats until the Demon Cult is gone.”

He stopped in front of Mr. Gu and tilted his head.

“Sound about right?”