Zi vanished in a puff of indignant violet smoke as Kai shot to his feet, his sword leaping into his hand with the familiar whisper of steel against leather. Lu Bu scrambled up beside him, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste, his hands already curling into the basic defensive stance Kai had taught him just days before.

  The sight that greeted them was nothing short of bizarre. Emerging from over a hill came the massive, shaggy form of Ning, the quake buffalo—her ivory horns pulsing with golden qi that formed an intricate web around a floating boulder the size of a merchant's cart. Behind her marched the vanguard beasts in ragged formation—the sky lynx, the armored bears, even the normally reclusive horned hares—all watching their prisoner with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.

  But it was the boulder itself that commanded attention. Or rather, what protruded from it. Like some grotesque flower sprouting from stone, a man's head lolled atop the massive rock, his wild, unkept beard twitching as he mumbled incoherently. His sunken cheeks were streaked with dirt, his salt-and-pepper hair matted in what looked suspiciously like tree sap. As Kai watched, one of the man's eyes rolled open—a startlingly clear hazel amidst the grime—before squeezing shut again with a dramatic groan.

  THOOM. The boulder landed with earth-shaking finality, sending up a plume dust that made Lu Bu cough. Ning gave a proud snort, her horns dimming as she released the qi bindings. The message in her deep, rumbling grunt was unmistakable: Look what we caught!

  The man's head jerked up at the sound, his matted hair swinging like a frayed rope. "Oh thank the ancestors—" His voice cracked like dry kindling, then dropped into an exaggerated, groveling tone. "Great and powerful cultivator! Please, I beg you, call off your terrifying spirit beasts! This lowly one meant no harm!"

  Kai blinked slowly, struggling to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. A man's head sticking out of a boulder, carried by his spirit beast companions, all while speaking like a bad actor in a traveling play. He shook his head sharply, as if trying to dislodge the surreal image from his mind.

  "Who are you?" Kai demanded, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "And what in the nine hells are you doing here?"

  The stranger's eyes darted nervously between Kai and the surrounding spirit beasts. "This humble mortal is but a simple traveler heading north when he chanced upon your magnificent ice dome. Overcome with curiosity, he—"

  "Stop." Kai held up a hand. "First, we're at least fifty li from any established trade route. Second," he gestured to the forest around them, "no sane mortal traveler would choose Zan's wilds over bandits. Try again."

  The man's grimy beard twitched as he worked his jaw. "Ah, but great cultivator, the main paths have become exceptionally dangerous of late! Why, just last week, an entire merchant caravan was—"

  "Enough!" Kai's patience snapped like brittle ice. He turned to the quake buffalo. "Ning, I appreciate this, but you know better. You have a hard time controlling your power. If you'd encased a true mortal in stone like that, they'd be paste by now." He patted her massive shoulder. "Next time, let the others handle detainment, alright?"

  Ning gave a sheepish grunt, her horns dimming slightly in what Kai had learned was the equivalent of a pout.

  Kai turned back to the prisoner, his eyes narrowing. "Which means you're no mortal. Only a cultivator could survive being encased in Ning’s stone like that. So, stop pretending to be a mortal. I'll ask one last time—who are you, and why are you really here?"

  The stranger's demeanor shifted like a flipped coin. "Why did I have to run into another cultivator?" he bemoaned to the heavens, as if the universe had personally slighted him.

  Kai's grip on his sword tightened. "So you are a cultivator, just as I thought."

  The man sighed, his breath stirring the dust on his scruffy beard. "Yeah... Name's Gin. Gin Zuka." He attempted to cross his arms before remembering they were still encased in rock, settling for a frustrated huff instead. "I'm a rogue cultivator."

  Kai's knuckles whitened around his hilt. "A rogue cultivator of the demonic kind?" The words came out coldly.

  Gin's head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. "NO! Ancestors, no!" His sudden movement sent tiny pebbles skittering down the boulder. "I'm not one of those corpse-eating, blood-drinking freaks! I'm just... unaffiliated. No sect would take me in, so I had no choice but to cultivate on my own."

  Kai's skeptical snort cut through the cold air. "No choice but to cultivate? Spare me. You couldn't get into a proper sect so you decided to practice anyway—like every other rogue cultivator with more ambition than sense."

  "It's true!" Gin's voice pitched higher in panic, his eyes darting between Kai's sword and the surrounding spirit beasts. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I'm not lying! I have a... a unique physique that forces me to cultivate!" His words tumbled out in a desperate rush. "I can’t help it!"

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  Kai's eyebrow arched. "And what physique would that be?"

  Gin swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, as if embarrassed by his own admission. "It's... it's the Drunken Master's Physique."

  For three heartbeats, the only sound was the distant howl of the wind.

  "Ohhh," Kai drawled. "That would explain so much. If true." His caution started to fade as quickly as it came. "Prove it."

  Gin's face twisted in frustration. "How exactly am I supposed to do that while stuck in a—"

  Ning chose that moment to sneeze, her massive head shaking violently. The sudden movement disrupted her qi control, and with an audible crack, the boulder split down the middle. Gin tumbled forward, landing face-first in the dirt with an undignified yelp.

  As he pushed himself up, spitting out soil, Kai got his first proper look at the man. Gin was lean but wiry, his frame wrapped in layers of mismatched furs and what might have once been fine silks. A gourd the size of a small child hung at his hip, sloshing ominously. But most telling were his hands—calloused not from weapon training, but from constant, precise movements. Brewer's hands.

  Gin rubbed his newly freed wrists, muttering under his breath. "About damn time..." He glanced up at Kai's still-drawn sword and sighed. Reaching for his gourd, he unstoppered it with practiced ease and took a long, deep glug.

  The change was immediate. Where before Gin had seemed merely disheveled, now his entire being seemed to... sharpen. A golden flush spread across his cheeks, and when he opened his eyes, they shone with an unnatural clarity.

  "Happy?" Gin slurred, though his movements became paradoxically more precise. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The Drunken Master's Physique. Can't cultivate or use techniques sober. Literally. My meridians seize up like frozen pipes without liquor." He took another swig, and this time Kai could see the qi swirling in the liquid—not demonic, but refined in a way he'd never seen before. "So yeah. No sect would touch me with a ten-foot pole. Who wants a disciple who can only practice drunk?"

  Lu Bu, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, suddenly piped up. "That's... actually kind of cool."

  Gin blinked, then grinned, raising his gourd in salute. "Finally! Someone who appreciates—"

  Kai's hand shot up, cutting Gin off mid-sentence. "Lu Bu," he said sharply, "don't you dare take after this drunkard." His glare cold. "Now, for the last time—why are you really here?"

  Gin swayed slightly, the qi-infused liquor clearly working through his system. Where before he'd been all nervous energy, now he moved with the deliberate care of someone riding the perfect buzz—not quite drunk, but far from sober. "I was partly telling the truth before," he said, holding up three fingers in an oath. "Just a humble traveler heading north through the wilds when I stumbled across this..." He gestured vaguely at the shimmering ice dome. "Whatever this is. Got curious. That's the whole story."

  Kai's eyebrow arched skeptically. "You weren't scouting to turn these spirit beasts into ingredients for some brew?" His hand drifted back toward his sword. "I've heard of cultivators who—"

  "Heavens no!" Gin's outburst sent him stumbling back a step, his gourd sloshing dangerously. "If I'd known this place was crawling with terrifying spirit beasts, I'd have run in the opposite direction! Do I look suicidal to you?" He patted his chest for emphasis, nearly losing his balance again.

  Kai studied the man—the genuine fear in his bloodshot eyes, the way his hands trembled, though that might have been the alcohol, the complete lack of defensive qi preparation. After a long moment, he sighed and sheathed his sword with a definitive click. Crossing his arms, he weighed his options.

  The classical cultivator's approach would be clear: eliminate the potential threat. Gin had seen their shelter, their spirit beast allies, possibly even Snow's weakened state. Letting him leave could invite disaster. But the weight of his sword suddenly felt heavier than usual—not just in his scabbard, but in his soul. He wanted to leave that kind of world behind.

  "Fine," Kai said at last, the word tasting bitter. "If you truly mean no harm, you're free to go." He fixed Gin with a look that had made stronger men flinch. "Let's not cross paths again. Understood?"

  Gin's face lit up like a festival lantern, his bloodshot eyes suddenly gleaming with sober intensity beneath their alcoholic glaze. "Wait!" he slurred, waving his hands with enough vigor to nearly topple himself over. "I have a proposition!"

  With drunken determination, he began rummaging through the stained folds of his patchwork robes, digging past what looked like a half-eaten sausage, several questionable stains, and a tattered scroll before finally producing a small clay jar sealed with black wax. The moment he cracked the seal, the air itself seemed to brighten. An aroma like liquid sunshine spilled forth—honeyed peaches and mountain blossoms with an earthy undertone that spoke of deep forest roots and mineral-rich springs. Even Ning twitched her ears forward, nostrils flaring as the scent danced across her sensitive nose.

  Kai's body betrayed him before his mind could catch up. His nostrils flared involuntarily, and he felt his salivary glands activate against his will. The rich fragrance carried traces of something more than mere alcohol—this was qi-infused liquor of a high grade. He clenched his jaw. "What is that?" The question came out more sharply than intended.

  "Five-Peak Mountain Dew," Gin declared proudly, cradling the jar like one might hold a sacred relic. The golden liquid inside caught the firelight, casting dancing reflections across his grimy face. "Aged for years in an underground spirit cave where—"

  "I don't care about your liquor," Kai interrupted, though his throat bobbed with an involuntary swallow that contradicted his words. He forced his hands to remain at his sides rather than reach for the tantalizing brew. "I have nothing to trade for it."

  Gin's expression shifted, the merchant's gleam in his eyes giving way to something more genuine. He swayed slightly as he extended the jar toward Kai. "I'm not looking to trade." The usual mocking lilt faded from his voice. "It's an offer of friendship."