Chapter Seventy-One: Have You Heard of Amway—Oops, I Mean Awakening?

Xie Jing was, without a doubt, a normal man, and like any man, he appreciated beauty. Paris was blessed with both stunning features and an enviable figure. Years spent roaming the streets had left her with a sharp tongue, never short of a coarse word, yet this only added to her character. Those elegant beauties, with their untouchable grace, seemed like distant goddesses. Paris, on the other hand, brimmed with the vividness of real life.

Truth be told, Xie Jing was genuinely fond of Paris, this NPC. Her character and her story appealed to him more than any other. He admired her strength, her willingness to do whatever it took to survive. And so, when Paris hurled her accusations at him, Xie Jing did not protest. He simply rapped her on the head, his voice tinged with a wry smile.

“Don’t lump all men together. I just wanted to say hello to you, that’s all!”

Paris sneered, her long, nylon-clad legs bending slightly to reveal a flawless curve. She looked at him sidelong, eyes glinting with challenge. “Can you really say you don’t want to?”

A grin flickered across Xie Jing’s face. He answered her provocation by giving her a sharp smack on the rear. Paris, stung by the pain, blinked back tears and shot Xie Jing a look full of vengeance. He, unbothered, stood up, walked away, and untied her bonds.

“I appreciate beautiful things,” he said, disappointment heavy in his tone, “but I don’t care for a lovely body filled with nothing but filth.”

He was disheartened. He had always liked Paris for her strength and her resourcefulness, but now he could not help feeling somewhat let down. Irritated, too. Perhaps she had witnessed too much darkness—perhaps that was why, in her eyes, the whole world seemed steeped in filth and shadow, with no trace of light. No one could ever truly reach her heart; everything seemed to teeter between using and being used.

He had once loved the idea of a lotus flower, rising pristine from the muck, yet now it felt as though, even as he admired its elegance, he discovered mud had seeped into its seedpod.

Paris lowered her head and rose from the ground. She found nothing to say in response to Xie Jing’s last words. She had always felt the nickname “Princess of the Gutter” suited her perfectly. She was no noble princess—merely a small figure striving to survive in the mire.

She watched Xie Jing’s departing figure, silently committing it to memory. Not out of any sudden stirring of the heart, but in shame and determination to avenge the stinging swat he’d just given her. Paris lived by the rule that every slight must be repaid.

Xie Jing, in a sour mood, dispatched several monsters with a single sweep of his sword. The truth was, deep down, he sometimes felt an overpowering urge to conquer Paris—a rebellious princess of the sewers, who, if she could be tamed by his hand, would be a wonder indeed.

A man of wealth, Xie Jing feared no one; with the three feet of light in his hand, none could stand above him. Yet as he reflected, stroking his chin, he couldn’t help but wonder—was he starting to sound like a villain?

His temper had flared without reason. Now that he’d calmed down, he found the sensation odd. What had just happened? In truth, wasn’t Paris’s reaction perfectly natural? Who wouldn’t be wary if a stranger claimed to want to help? Why, then, had his anger flared so suddenly?

He did not linger on his path but instead returned to Seria’s inn. Seated within a hollowed tree, he took several deep breaths, regaining his composure.

What was going on?

He examined himself, feeling the flow of light along every meridian, through flesh and bone. At his heart, the dark curse mark stood out, stark and prominent amid the radiance. Instinct told him—the mark was the cause! Yet, upon closer inspection, he could find nothing unusual. The mark was unchanged, inert. Still, he resolved to watch his emotions more carefully in the future.

With another deep breath, Xie Jing decided to stay in for the night and regain his equilibrium. Monsters, though fair game in this world, were still living beings, and the growing sense of unease within him was bound to cause problems eventually.

Eyes closed in meditation, he was startled by a sudden knock at the door. He opened his eyes in surprise—who could it be?

“Come in!”

The vine-wreathed door swung open, and Seria appeared, dressed in a pale pink dress and carrying a tray with a bottle of elven liqueur.

“A rare guest indeed!” Xie Jing’s eyes lit up as he rose from his bed and walked to the door.

“May I come in?” Seria asked, her smile gentle and enchanting.

He bowed, arms extended, making a perfect gentleman’s gesture of invitation. Seria stepped lightly inside and set the liqueur on the table.

“I’ve invited you so many times without success, and now here you are at my door,” Xie Jing joked as he sat opposite her. “Does this count as you delivering yourself to me?”

“Aren’t we friends?” Seria’s expression did not change; she remained as captivating as ever.

These days, Xie Jing often lingered at the bar to chat with Seria, drawn to her despite her reserved replies. What could he do? The gentlemen on B Station had clamored to see more of Seria—the will of the people could not be denied!

“I noticed you looked troubled when you came in earlier. Did something happen?” Seria asked, taking the initiative.

Xie Jing did not answer at once, but poured the elven liqueur into two glasses.

“It’s nothing serious—just a hiccup in my training.”

Seria sipped her drink and set the glass down. “Your sword skills are all exceptional, but you haven’t grasped their true essence.”

“Their essence?” he echoed.

“Mr. GSD has only taught you the basic forms. His true strength lies in spiritual cultivation—his swordplay is rather unremarkable. Each skill he’s shown you requires long practice to master the core essence. You, however, have learned four at once—broad but not deep.”

Xie Jing nodded; it was true. His swordplay mimicked the forms, but lacked the power he imagined.

Seria continued, “If you seek the deepest essence, I suggest you seek out Master Xilan. I’ve heard he’s just returned from the Ghost Realm to Dark City. You should find him at the tavern.”

Xilan? Of course Xie Jing knew of that famous swordsman and notorious drunkard.

“But what is this essence, truly?” Xie Jing still did not understand.

“Awakening!” Seria raised a fair finger. “Have you heard of awakening?”

Awakening! When players reach level fifty and complete their awakening quest, they gain awakening skills—powers far greater and skills far more formidable than before.