The "Alley of Ascending Dragons and Descending Robes" was everything I had dreamed of and more.
Heavenly Peak City's red-light district was a sensory overload of neon-pink spiritual lanterns, the gentle strumming of zithers, and the intoxicating, heavy scent of dual-cultivation incense mixed with that glorious, premium human musk.
Cultivators in flowing robes stumbled out of gilded pavilions with red-faced fairies on their arms. I could literally see the Qi radiating off the establishments. This was it. The promised land.
I puffed out my chest, feeling the heavy pouch of ten low-grade spirit stones bouncing against my hip. Back in Mudwater Town, ten stones made you a king for the night. Here, I was ready to finally, truly live.
"Alright, Boss," I said, yanking the goat's leash to stop it from eating a decorative glowing lotus out of a puddle. "Lead the way to the finest, sweatiest establishment you know. I want an outer-court dropout with a bad attitude and untamed armpits."
Lo Yu sighed, adjusting his tattered robes. "We are supposed to be finding a location for the law firm, boy."
"We are networking," I corrected smoothly. "A Litigation Master must understand the local economy. Now, where to?"
Lo Yu pointed his walking stick toward a massive, three-story building constructed entirely of carved rosewood and glowing jade. Above the door, a silk banner read: The Spring Breeze Pavilion.
"The madam there owes me a favor from a very messy paternity suit a decade ago," Lo Yu muttered. "Follow me, and don't let the farm animal touch the velvet."
We marched up the jade steps. I threw the doors open with the absolute, unearned confidence of a man holding ten low-grade stones.
The inside was a paradise of silk, soft cushions, and beautiful women lounging while sipping spiritual wine. But before I could even begin to scan the room for hairy armpits, a woman materialized in front of us.
She was stunning, wearing a skin-tight crimson dress, smoking a long jade pipe, and radiating a spiritual pressure that made my knees instantly want to buckle.
She took one look at my dirt-stained robes, the goat actively chewing on her expensive velvet drapes, and then locked eyes with my decrepit boss. A slow, mocking smile spread across her red lips.
"Well, well, well," the Madam purred, taking a drag from her pipe. "If it isn't little Lo Yu-er."
I blinked, looking back and forth between them. "Lawyer? Yeah, he is a lawyer. That's our firm. Lo & He."
The Madam blew a ring of purple smoke into my face. "No, you unwashed mortal idiot. His name is Lo Yu. I am adding the affectionate -er suffix because I used to change his diapers when he was a pathetic little disciple. Lo Yu-er."
My brain bluescreened. I slowly turned my head to look at my boss.
"Wait," I whispered, the horrifying realization dawning on me. "Your name is Lo Yu. When people call you affectionately... your name is literally just the English word Lawyer?"
Lo Yu scowled, avoiding my gaze. "It is a noble family name!"
"That is the laziest, most heavy-handed foreshadowing I have ever experienced in my entire life!" I threw my hands up in the air, staring at the ceiling as if looking directly at the author of my reality. "Did the Heavenly Dao just run out of name ideas when it made you?! What's next? Are we going to meet a baker named Bay-Ker?!"
Madam Hua blinked, taking a slow, elegant drag from her jade pipe. She exhaled a ring of purple smoke, looking at me like I was genuinely insane.
"Actually," Madam Hua said deadpan, "the finest spiritual dough in the Eastern District is crafted by Fairy Ba Ki. Her steamed buns are legendary. Why? Is that supposed to be funny to you mortals?"
I stared at her. I was trapped in a simulation run by a C-tier deity who couldn't be bothered to invent a working language. I opened my mouth to scream into the void.
"Quiet, boy!" Lo Yu hissed, violently smacking my shin with his walking stick before I could have a full existential meltdown. He turned back to the Madam with a greasy, professional smile. "Forgive my associate, Madam Hua. He suffered a head injury during our travels. We require your finest hospitality. He has capital."
I immediately pushed my existential dread down deep into my soul and recovered my swagger. I stepped forward, slamming my pouch onto a nearby jade table. The ten low-grade stones clinked pitifully.
"Madam Hua," I said, leaning against the table and giving her my most seductive, manure-scented smirk. "I have ten stones. I want the premium package. I'm talking a curvy Jade Water Sect dropout. Sleeveless robes. Heavy sweat stains. Trimmed Dao or au naturel, I'm flexible. Show me the menu."
Madam Hua stared at the pouch. She looked at me. She looked at Lo Yu.
And then, she threw her head back and laughed. It wasn't a polite giggle. It was a booming, Qi-infused cackle that rattled the teacups on the tables. Several of the fairies across the room started pointing and laughing, too.
My smirk faltered. "Is... is my order too specific?"
Madam Hua wiped a tear from her eye, tapping her jade pipe against the table. "Boy. You are in Heavenly Peak City. This is a Sect hub. A cup of watered-down tea in this lobby costs five mid-grade spirit stones."
My stomach dropped into my shoes. "Wait. What is the conversion rate?"
"One mid-grade stone is worth a hundred low-grade stones," Lo Yu muttered, rubbing his temples.
I stared at my pouch. My ten low-grade stones weren't a king's ransom. They were the equivalent of walking into a five-star Vegas casino and slamming a single, sticky dime onto the roulette table. I was canonically, devastatingly, aggressively broke.
"But... but the Mudwater Town rates..." I stammered, my dreams of premium human musk dissolving into dust.
"For ten low-grade stones," Madam Hua sneered, gesturing lazily toward a dark, dingy corner of the pavilion, "I can give you five minutes of hand-holding with Old Man Shen. He's a blind, three-hundred-year-old Qi refiner who hasn't washed his hands since the previous Emperor's reign. Or, the goat can have a carrot."
The goat perked up, letting out an excited baaaa.
"I refuse," I said, my voice hollow, my soul crushed. I slowly dragged my pouch of ten stones off the table. I had to protect my brand. Old Man Shen was not the Trimmed Dao.
Lo Yu, seeing my utter devastation, stepped in. "Madam Hua, clearly my associate is unfamiliar with the local inflation. However, we are actually here on business. We noticed the completely condemned, burnt-out shack attached to the side of your illustrious pavilion."
Madam Hua crossed her arms. "You mean the old storage shed? The one that smells like rotting cabbage and feral cats?"
"Exactly," Lo Yu said, his eyes gleaming with real estate greed. "We wish to rent it. Think of the synergy, Madam! Drunk cultivators leaving your establishment often make terrible, highly illegal decisions. They get into fights. They breach contracts. They cause property damage. They need immediate legal counsel. We catch them as they stumble out your door!"
Madam Hua paused, taking another drag of her pipe. She looked at the ruined shack outside the window, then back at us.
"Fifty mid-grade stones a month," she said flatly.
Lo Yu smiled his missing-tooth smile. He reached behind his back and slammed the massive, glowing yellow Iron-Hide Earth Boar tusks onto the jade table.
"We'll pay the first month's deposit right now," Lo Yu countered. "And my associate will personally clean the cabbage out of the floorboards."
Madam Hua didn't even give us a key. She just pocketed the tusks, handed Lo Yu a rusty crowbar, and told us the rent was due on the first of the month, or she would use my spine as a new pipe-cleaner.
We dragged our burlap sack of evidence around the side of the Spring Breeze Pavilion, stepping over a puddle that was actively dissolving a stray boot, and arrived at our new corporate headquarters.
It wasn't a building. It was a wooden tumor attached to the side of the brothel.
Lo Yu jammed the crowbar into the doorframe and yanked. The door fell forward, shattering into three pieces on the cobblestones. A cloud of dust, smelling strongly of cheap booze, bleach, and profound regret, billowed out to greet us.
"Ah," Lo Yu breathed in deeply, stepping over the shattered door. "Do you smell that, Junior Associate? That is the smell of low overhead and prime real estate."
I coughed, waving the dust away from my face. I stepped inside, my boots sticking slightly to the floorboards. The room was tiny, barely big enough to fit a desk and two chairs.
But what immediately drew my attention was the wall adjoining the dark alleyway outside.
It was made of cheap, rotting pine. And spaced roughly two feet apart, all the way down the length of the wall, were half a dozen perfectly round, suspiciously smooth holes. They were all exactly waist-high.
I stared at them. My modern, degenerate brain instantly connected the dots. I slowly turned to Lo Yu, my face pale.
"Boss," I whispered, pointing a trembling finger at the wall. "What... what was this room used for before Madam Hua used it for storage?"
Lo Yu dumped his bag of belongings onto the floor. "Oh, the Pavilion used to rent it out to an independent contractor. A blind masseuse, I believe. Very popular with the outer-court disciples who couldn't afford a full room upstairs. They called it the 'Wall of Anonymous Enlightenment.' Why do you ask?"
"Anonymous enlightenment," I repeated, rubbing my temples as a fresh wave of existential dread washed over me. "Boss. That is a glory hole wall. We just rented a condemned glory hole den."
"Nonsense!" Lo Yu scoffed, unrolling a dusty mat. "These are clearly ventilation shafts to let the spiritual breeze flow through! A Litigation Master needs fresh air to think!"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
We both froze.
The sound came from the alleyway outside. Specifically, from the third hole on the left.
I watched in absolute, paralyzed horror as a finger poked through the hole and wiggled impatiently. A muffled, husky voice echoed from the other side of the wood.
"Hey," the voice whispered gruffly. "Is the blind guy in? I got two low-grade stones and ten minutes before my Sect elder realizes I'm missing. Let's get this moving."
I stared at the wiggling finger.
Suddenly, the patron on the other side grew impatient. The finger retreated, and a second later, a massive, aggressively veiny, glowing pink "Yang-Root" vegetable was thrust through the hole. It was practically vibrating with spiritual energy, wiggling around in the empty air of our new office like a demonic caterpillar.
"Come on!" the voice hissed. "I brought my own spiritual supplements! Just take it!"
"By the Heavenly Dao!" Lo Yu shrieked, scrambling backward and tripping over his own walking stick. "What kind of demonic artifact is that?!"
"It's a patron, you idiot!" I yelled, my survival instincts finally kicking in.
I looked around frantically. I grabbed a loose, heavy plank of wood from the shattered front door. I rushed the wall, raising the plank like a baseball bat, and brought it down hard, smacking the glowing Yang-Root right back through the hole.
"YEOOOWCH!" the voice outside screamed. There was the sound of a man tumbling backward into a pile of trash, followed by rapid, panicked footsteps echoing down the alleyway.
I stood there, panting, gripping the wooden plank like a weapon.
"We need a hammer," I gasped, staring wildly at the wall. "We need a hammer, we need nails, and we need a lot of wood. If a literal penis comes through one of those holes, I am going to legally change my name and walk into the ocean."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound came from the hole closest to the door.
"I'm here for the Tuesday special!" a different, higher-pitched voice whispered.
Before I could even raise my wooden plank, the goat trotted over. It looked at the new hole, let out an excited baaaa, and aggressively stuck its entire snout into the opening.
There was a moment of silence.
Then, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the alleyway.
"TEETH! IT HAS TEETH! THE ENLIGHTENMENT WALL HAS TEETH!"
More panicked footsteps faded into the distance.
The goat pulled its head back out of the hole, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of torn blue silk. It swallowed, gave me that cross-eyed stare, and let out a satisfied burp.
I slowly lowered my wooden plank. I looked at Lo Yu, who was currently cowering in the corner.
"Alright," I sighed, walking over to the burlap sack of panties and pulling out a piece of charcoal to write our sign. "The goat is officially head of firm security. Let's get to work."