The basement tea-house was hidden two levels below a derelict auto parts warehouse in the southern suburbs.
Water dripped from a rusted ceiling pipe, splashing into a cracked plastic bucket with steady, hollow drops. The cold damp air smelled of stale tobacco, dried blood, and rancid motor oil.
Ouyang Fei sat on a greasy wooden stool, clutching a silver heating thermos in both shaking hands. His white mink coat was ruined, smeared with gray road slush and cheap diesel soot.
Across the low wooden table sat a man who did not look entirely human.
He wore a stained leather coat over heavy iron chainmail. His right arm was wrapped in thick gray bandages from knuckles to shoulder. A jagged purple scar ran diagonally across his face, splitting his nose and pulling his upper lip into a permanent, cruel sneer.
A floating text glowed in the dim candlelight above his head:
[Target: Blood-Hand Scar]
[Cultivation: Rank 4 Early Qi Gathering]
