A woman wrapped in gauze entered, four guards trailing closely behind her.
"It's her!" Evan Yang immediately recognized them. Even though the woman's face was hidden behind her veil, her aura and those four guards were unforgettable.
These were the friends of the Lynn Family young lady—Evan Yang's first acquaintances when he arrived on this planet.
Recalling her words by the lake, Evan Yang couldn't help but smile to himself: "Won't tell me who you are? Well, I'll find out sooner or later."
He strode over. Inside, only mortals filled the seats—Mortal's Rest was a humble inn where everything was cheap, the kind of place ordinary folk could actually afford and enjoy.
Plain wooden tables lined the room, nearly all occupied. The woman and her four guards sat together at one of them.
Evan Yang walked straight in, glanced around, and spotted a few empty seats at their table. Without hesitation, he sat down.
The four guards shot him a glare.
"What's the problem?" Evan Yang feigned innocence. Around them, the locals watched the guards closely—they were clearly important figures. With their attire and the way they followed the woman, it was obvious they served a powerful family.
That made Evan Yang much more likable to the locals, who quickly sided with him. Someone called out, "Brother, don't sit with them—come over here, we've got plenty of seats!"
Evan Yang gave an awkward smile. "I'll be right there."
"No need, just sit here," the woman said, clearly not wanting to be treated like a public enemy.
"But..." Evan Yang hesitated, feeling awkward.
"They don't know any better, don't mind them," the woman said. She turned to her four guards, "Go wait outside. Don't disturb me."
The four guards left Mortal's Rest in frustration, heading outside.
"Miss, are you crazy? Why insist on coming to Mortal's Rest and living like a mortal?" one guard grumbled.
"Forget it. With Miss's cultivation, maybe she's here to comprehend the Dao or something," another guard sighed.
Looks like we're stuck here, just guarding the door.
Stop complaining. We agreed to follow Miss, so we have to do our duty," one guard reminded.
The four guards waited outside, frustrated and bored.
Inside, most patrons were curious about the veiled woman, but there was also a hint of resentment—high-born types like her weren't supposed to mingle here.
Everyone knew she had powerful backing and couldn't be provoked, so they kept their distance. At her table, only the woman and Evan Yang sat together.
A waiter came over with a friendly smile. "Welcome to Mortal's Rest. What would you like?" He handed Evan Yang a menu.
Evan Yang glanced at the menu—the priciest item was only a few low-grade Spirit Crystal Ore. Even a feast would cost just one mid-grade crystal, a far cry from the luxury inn he'd visited earlier. No wonder mortals loved this place.
The service was equal, no one looked down on you, and most importantly, everything was cheap.
As Evan Yang browsed the menu, the woman spoke up, "Waiter, I'd like your famous Emerald Wine."
"Sorry, Miss, Emerald Wine has been discontinued. It won't be available again," the waiter said with a sigh.
"Why?" the woman asked, puzzled. She'd come here not just for the mortal experience, but mainly to taste Emerald Wine.
"See for yourself," the waiter said, pointing to a notice posted by the entrance.
The woman scanned the notice with her divine sense, then frowned. "Emerald Wine was brewed by the Wine Immortal?"
"That's right. He brewed it for free, and we processed it so everyone could enjoy. But now it's gone, and the Wine Immortal is likely in seclusion," the waiter explained, clearly regretful.
Nearby wine lovers, already familiar with the story, started talking about the Wine Immortal's brewing and the disciple recruitment.
Evan Yang was surprised that so many mortals at Mortal's Rest knew the Wine Immortal by name, and praised his brewing skills endlessly.
"Waiter, isn't the Wine Immortal recruiting disciples? Why not send a few people from here to learn his craft, so everyone can keep enjoying good wine?" Evan Yang asked.
"It's not that simple. The nobles have already blocked the road to Phoenixcrest Mountain. Only their families and sects can go up—mortals have almost no chance," the waiter said helplessly.
"That's ridiculous!" Evan Yang complained, though he was only acting. His words stirred up the crowd, and soon Mortal's Rest was buzzing with resentment toward the privileged.
"Young man, complaining won't help. Better let it go," the waiter said, seeing how noisy Mortal's Rest had become.
"If I had cultivation, I'd carve a bloody path and let everyone have a fair shot," Evan Yang said, even slamming his mountain-digging tools onto the table for effect.
"I'm with you! If I had cultivation, I'd teach those nobles a lesson, too," someone nearby chimed in.
Evan Yang hadn't expected such a strong reaction—one person, then another, and soon nearly everyone was backing his idea.
Seeing the crowd so fired up, Evan Yang stirred things up with a few more angry remarks. For the rest of the day, everyone debated how to get to the Wine Immortal's disciple recruitment.
Some genuinely hated the nobles, others just wanted to become the Wine Immortal's disciple—at least they'd have a trade, brewing wine to make a living.
Some were drawn by the legend of the Wine Immortal himself, so many complained that if only they could go to Phoenixcrest Mountain.
As evening fell, everyone finished eating and packed up. Before leaving, nearly everyone stopped to chat with Evan Yang for a moment, then left feeling satisfied.
Watching how venting calmed everyone down, Evan Yang sighed inwardly: 'Mortals are so easily satisfied.'
Once Mortal's Rest was nearly empty, Evan Yang turned to the waiter. "Waiter, my home is pretty far—half a month's walk. I'd like to stay in the city for a few days. Do you have guest rooms?"
"Of course! We're not as fancy as the big inns, but we've got some rooms," the waiter answered with a smile.
Evan Yang smiled. "That's good."
The waiter led Evan Yang up to the second floor. There were several rooms—nothing luxurious, no soundproofing, just like a mortal's house: a bed, a table and chair, and a washbasin.
Evan Yang didn't complain. He smiled, paid ten low-grade Spirit Crystal Ore for five nights at two ore per night.
The waiter took the ore and smiled. "Rest well, I'll get back to work."
"Go ahead," Evan Yang replied with a smile.
The waiter closed the door. Evan Yang put his things on the table, washed his face, then lay down, pretending to be an exhausted laborer and fell asleep.
But inside, he thought, 'Trying to probe me?'
On his way upstairs, Evan Yang had sensed a divine probe—the source was the veiled woman.
So Evan Yang stayed calm, pretending to be a mortal and using sleep to fool her.
Once Evan Yang appeared to be asleep, the woman withdrew her divine sense. The four guards came in, saw her get up, and entered the inn.
The five walked upstairs, then into several rooms next door.
'So they're staying here, too,' Evan Yang thought. He'd noticed them leaving Mortal's Rest earlier, so he guessed they were lodging here as well.
Later, Evan Yang activated his Thousand-Mile Sound, but avoided locking onto them with his divine sense—he didn't want to be discovered.
It was nighttime at Mortal's Rest, and only a handful of cultivators had divine sense—just them. The woman wouldn't suspect anyone else, so if she noticed, Evan Yang would become the target.
"Miss, are you really planning to stay here?" one guard asked quietly, entering the woman's room.
His voice was so soft that even mortals outside couldn't hear, so the guard spoke without worry.
"Yes. If you're still trying to persuade me to leave, forget it. I think mortal life suits me," the woman replied.
"But..." the guard said, troubled.
"I've told you, if you want to leave, go ahead. You don't have to follow me," the woman said firmly.
"Miss, why put yourself through this?" the guard said helplessly.
"Enough. To live as a mortal, you must act like one. Get some rest." The woman sent him out and closed the door.
The four guards weren't about to leave. They went downstairs, ordered some food, and since it was late, only they remained, so they weren't worried about mortals bothering them.
The woman's room was peaceful—she lay down and slept like a mortal.
"Is she really asleep?" Evan Yang wondered.
But he couldn't get up, worried the woman next door would realize he wasn't a mortal.
Three days left. In three days, how will I get up there? Is the Wine Immortal's wine really that amazing? Both mortals and cultivators love it? Evan Yang had learned today that the Wine Immortal's brewing was extraordinary—otherwise, the Feng family wouldn't need his wine every year, and mortals wouldn't praise it so much.
It was all built on reputation, which piqued Evan Yang's interest. He wanted to become the Wine Immortal's disciple to sneak into the Feng family.
But it was difficult. The mortals said the road was blocked by cultivators—if mortals tried, they'd be stopped outside.
Right now, becoming the Wine Immortal's disciple seemed the easiest way to sneak into the Feng family.
He thought for a long time but had no solution. Evan Yang wondered about the woman next door: 'Why did she come here? Is she also trying to become the Wine Immortal's disciple? If only I could see her expression.'
Without seeing her expression, Evan Yang couldn't figure out why she'd come here.