It was dusk when Zhao Xian began to drive through the narrow streets of his neighborhood. It had been a tough day of work, like every single day before it. The city council was organizing the traditional Lantern Festival, which usually took place in mid-November. Although it was still over a week away from starting, preparations to spruce up the area had been underway for some time. Zhao Xian, as a member of the cleaning staff in that part of the city, was responsible for sweeping the streets, hanging the usual decorations announcing the special dates, and also assisting the gardening staff with tree pruning and weeding.

Everything had to be perfect for the inauguration. Every morning, Zhao Xian would wake up before dawn to go to work and wouldn't return home until late, tired as can be, with the sole interest of grabbing a quick meal when the time came, perhaps watch something on TV, and then go to bed early. Maybe, if it had been a quiet month without much hustle and bustle, he would have considered doing something more interesting to spend his leisure time. But since that wasn't the case, and with every passing second feeling like his soul was slipping away, all he could worry about was getting to the corner supermarket on time to buy his favorite precooked meal before it ran out, and go to sleep early enough not to doze off the next morning in the middle of some square.

Today, like a memorized routine, he parked his old car in a parking lot two streets away from his building and started walking towards it. He had already got the impression, when he entered a nearby supermarket, that he was being watched. Although at first he didn't give it much thought, thinking it must be his paranoia acting up. Stress was getting to him, not only because of the tasks accumulated during his working hours, but also because he had once again lost at backgammon for the fifth consecutive time against one of his coworkers. But no, it wasn't just his imagination. Once he left the store and headed towards his apartment, he hadn't even set foot on the steps that separated him from the entrance of his building when a stranger approached him, momentarily startling him.

"Zhao Liangwei, I presume?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. The man had handsome features, eyes that shone amber under the light of a sun that was already setting, and jet-black hair that, even tied in a ponytail, reached down to his waist. Not only was his physical appearance uncommon, easily one of the most beautiful people Zhao Xian had ever seen, but his clothes were also extraordinary. No, the guy wasn't dressed casually like any other passerby on the streets; he was wearing a robe very similar to what one would imagine a character would wear in any cultivation novel or video game.

Was he cosplaying for some role-playing game that Zhao Xian wasn't aware of, or was the guy just eccentric?

"You presume wrong," Zhao Xian pointed out, not intending to say anything more until the person in front of him revealed his intentions.

"Right, how rude of me! Let me introduce myself first," the man continued, making an exaggerated bow. "I am Shen Zhihao, leader of the Yinhan sect in the mountains of the same name. And I have come here on an official mission to recruit you as my second in command."

"Recruit me?" Zhao Xian had a bad feeling.

"We're not in the army," he added, in a tone that made it clear that even if this interaction were part of a role-playing game, he wouldn't be willing to participate. His day had been long enough, thank you very much.

"But we will be," Shen Zhihao emphasized, then pointed out, almost implying that he was just as displeased with the arrangement as his interlocutor. "Look, it's inconvenient for me too to abandon my routine to deal with all this. However, it's what needs to be done: My brother has suddenly decided, for some vile reason, to take over the sect that my father left me as an inheritance. You'll understand that I have to do something to prevent that from happening, right?"

"And I fit into this plan... how, exactly?"

"The oracle has said that you have immense power, and probably just by appearing in my lands and proclaiming that you come in defense of what is just, it will be enough to scare Shen Yongqi away, including his army."

"Ah, so now there's an oracle too..." Zhao Xian didn't know whether to be annoyed at being interrupted on the sidewalk to listen to such a story, or to admire this Shen Zhihao for having such a vivid imagination.

"I was skeptical too... I still am. But the sages of my sect have been very clear about it. And according to them, there is no human way I can overcome the threat looming before me without a hero to fight on my behalf."

"Why not? Is your brother that powerful?"

Shen Zhihao seemed surprised by the question. Perhaps he had thought that by flattering a stranger and basically admitting that he would be lost without him, that would already make the other feel obliged to help with... whatever he really had in mind.

Fool. Zhao Xian was not one to get involved in disputes that had nothing to do with him.

"Haven't you heard the part where I mentioned he has an army?"

"Yes, but are you not the leader of a presumably prestigious sect wherever it is?" Zhao Xian pointed out, and although he was guessing here, he knew he had hit the mark when Shen Zhihao proudly raised his head at the mention of Yinhan. "It shouldn't be hard for you to gather your own army, if you haven't already."

"I have it, and we outnumber them, but they come from lands where demonic cultivation is popular."

"And? Don't you trust in the traditional cultivation of your sect members? Really," Zhao Xian sounded disappointed, although it was all a charade because he really didn't care about the fantasies this individual might imagine, "I'm not one to tell you what to do, since I'm neither a leader nor will I ever be one of a cultivation sect, but it really seems like terrible leadership to not trust in the abilities of your own people to the point where you prefer to seek help from a stranger."

"Of course I trust them!" Shen Zhihao exclaimed, visibly offended. "But, the oracle... and they bring dragons!"

"Oh, seen like that..." After a pause that seemed eternal, Zhao Xian concluded, "Good luck."

"W-what do you mean, 'good luck'? You should be telling me, 'Yes, sir, of course I will gladly use all my talents to preserve peace in your glorious sect! I will collect my things right away and accompany you,'" Shen Zhihao continued, perhaps realizing the obvious, he muttered, "Although you probably wouldn't say any of that without me offering you something in return. A hero maybe, but that's not enough to live on in any world, I imagine."

"Capitalism reaches everywhere, so yes, you're right about that."

"But it's okay, because I'm a prudent man and I imagined the conversation would go more or less like this," Shen Zhihao said, pulling out a bag full of gold coins that he promptly handed over to a bewildered Zhao Xian. "You can count it if you want, but there's enough money there to live comfortably for several months. And if you agree to help, triple or quadruple that amount could be yours."

"Is this real?" he asked, inspecting the contents of the container. Certainly, they weren't chocolate coins. But they could still be some other kind of metal... After all, Zhao Xian didn't recognize the symbols engraved on the coins, as if they belonged to a country or time very different from his own.

"Do you live in such poverty that you no longer recognize money when you see it?"

Okay, the venerable sect leader, as he called himself, was angry. The tone of that question made his resentment clear.

"Real or not, I can't accept it," Zhao Xian replied, returning it instantly and deciding not to think about the thousand ways in which he would berate himself that night if it turned out that this stranger was an eccentric millionaire and, out of ethics, he had just rejected seven million yuan.

"Why not?" Shen Zhihao immediately abandoned his proud leader facade, favoring panic. "Now is not the time to act like a hero who needs nothing from others; there will be time for that when you have saved Yinhan!"

"It's not because of that; I'm not a hero!" And then, in a slightly quieter tone, he added, "And I'm not one, in fact. The person you're looking for, Zhao Liangwei, is my grandfather. I am Zhao Xian."

"Oh. Well, never mind. Tell me where he lives, and I'll go pay him a visit."

"He currently lives in my parents' living room showcase, I suppose."

"What?"

"He's been cremated," Zhao Xian explained, finding it surreal to have this conversation. "He passed away over a decade ago."

"So there's no hero then..."

It seemed like a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over Shen Zhihao. He stood frozen, not knowing what to do, as if the entire rescue plan he had concocted in his head had fallen apart in a matter of seconds.

"I'm sorry, but that's how it is," Zhao Xian didn't know why he was apologizing, but somehow he felt compassion for the guy; as incoherent as he was, it must have been a huge hassle to travel from the asylum he came from just to realize that the person he had come to visit wasn't there. "Now, if you would kindly step aside..."

It still felt strange, if not disturbing, that Shen Zhihao knew his grandfather's name. But he was willing to overlook it in exchange for being able to enter his building without any more interruptions.

And yes, he almost succeeded, because the supposed leader of the Yinhan sect didn't move an inch from where he was when Zhao Xian walked past him. However, it wasn't until the latter reached the door that Shen Zhihao snapped out of his reverie enough to speak:

"Unless it was all a mistake and you are actually the hero we were waiting for."

"Haven't we agreed that the oracle never makes mistakes?"

"No, the oracle doesn't, but people do. Maybe they were wrong in giving me the name," and before Zhao Xian could point out how extremely convenient that was, he added, "But at least they got the last name right."

"It's just a last name; you could have approached anyone else and had the luck that they had the same name."

That is, if he hadn't made up the name... Although it was clear that, at least in this, Shen Zhihao seemed to have done his homework. How would he know where Zhao Xian lived or what his name was otherwise? How did he know what he looked like if he hadn't been researching him beforehand?

The more he thought about it, the more murky the issue became. And having to deal with a stalker was the last thing Zhao Xian would want.

"Is it also a coincidence about the address? Or did your grandfather live here before he passed away?"

"No."

Not to the second question. As for the first, he didn't know, nor did he want to know.

"Could I come in for a moment, or talk a little more out here? That would also serve me," and perhaps realizing that there was no chance Zhao Xian would trust him immediately enough to let him into his house, he changed the question before finishing it, "Or talk a little more out here? That would also help me."

"I think we've talked enough, don't you think?" Before he could deny it, Zhao Xian continued, "No, I have no intention of continuing this conversation. It's better if you go home."

And once this was established, he entered his building without looking back. With any luck, the strange cosplayer wouldn't try to follow him.