"Old Man Zhao enjoys creating mystique around ordinary conversations," Li Feng explained after the elder had departed. "Half the village believes he can read minds or see spirits. The other half thinks he's simply mastered the art of saying vague things that sound profound."

  "Which half do you belong to?" Xiaolong asked, genuinely curious about Li Feng's assessment.

  He considered the question with characteristic thoughtfulness. "I believe he sees patterns others miss. Whether that's supernatural perception or simply exceptional observation combined with experience is ultimately irrelevant. The insights themselves matter more than their source."

  This pragmatic approach struck Xiaolong as surprisingly sophisticated. Most beings, dragons included, obsessed over the mechanisms of knowledge acquisition rather than focusing on the utility of the knowledge itself.

  Their philosophical discussion was interrupted by the return of Little Mei, who had somehow acquired a sheet of paper and various drawing implements. She squeezed herself onto the bench beside Xiaolong without requesting permission—another example of the strange informality human children displayed toward adults.

  "I'm drawing you," she announced, already making broad strokes across the paper. "So everyone can see you properly."

  This declaration sent a flicker of alarm through Xiaolong. If this perceptive child actually rendered her true form rather than her human appearance, questions would inevitably follow.

  "That's very kind," she replied cautiously, "but perhaps you should draw Elder Brother Li instead. He's far more interesting."

  "I've drawn him lots of times," Mei dismissed this suggestion with the confidence of an established artist. "I want to draw you while you're here."

  Li Feng watched the interaction with evident amusement. "Little Mei is our village's most prolific artist. Her subjects are usually honored by her attention, though her interpretive style can be... surprising."

  As Mei worked with intense concentration, her small tongue protruding from the corner of her mouth, Xiaolong attempted to peer at the emerging image. The child shielded her work with theatrical secrecy.

  "No looking until it's finished!" she admonished. "You'll ruin the surprise."

  Xiaolong settled back, resigning herself to whatever revelation might emerge from the child's perceptive rendering. Around them, the tea house had grown increasingly lively as more villagers arrived and the evening's drinks flowed more freely. Several musical instruments had appeared, suggesting entertainment might soon follow the meal.

  "Village gatherings are important cultural exchanges," Li Feng explained, noting her observation of the activities. "Isolated communities preserve traditions that larger settlements often lose to progress and external influence."

  "You sound like a scholar as much as a cultivator," Xiaolong observed.

  "The Azure Waters Sect believes cultivation without understanding leads to power without purpose," he replied. "Elder Wei taught that technique without context is like a river that doesn't know the sea it seeks."

  This integration of philosophical perspective with practical application struck Xiaolong as uniquely human. Dragons pursued power as an end in itself, viewing philosophy primarily as a means of justifying their inherent supremacy rather than questioning its purpose.

  "Finished!" Mei announced triumphantly, holding up her drawing for inspection.

  Xiaolong braced herself for a child's crude rendering of a dragon—perhaps a serpentine body with disproportionate wings or exaggerated fire-breathing capabilities. What she saw instead left her momentarily speechless.

  The drawing showed her current human form in remarkable detail for a child's work, capturing her distinctive features with surprising accuracy. But surrounding this human figure was a shimmering aura rendered in multiple overlapping layers of color, creating an effect that unmistakably suggested scales without explicitly depicting them.

  The overall impression was of a human form containing something much larger and more elaborate than its outward appearance indicated.

  It was, in its childish way, the most accurate portrait of her current state that could possibly be created.

  "Do you like it?" Mei asked, clearly proud of her creation. "I showed how you're glowy inside."

  "It's... very perceptive," Xiaolong managed, uncertain whether to be impressed or alarmed by the child's insight.

  Li Feng studied the drawing with scholarly interest. "Remarkable use of color layering," he commented. "You've captured something of Xiaolong's spiritual essence rather than merely her physical appearance."

  "That's because her spirit is the pretty part," Mei explained matter-of-factly. "All shimmery and big."

  Before this dangerously accurate artistic critique could continue, a commotion at the tea house entrance drew everyone's attention. A group of men had entered, their attire marking them as merchants rather than local farmers. They carried themselves with the slightly exaggerated importance of those who regularly travel between larger settlements and consider themselves worldlier than village dwellers as a result.

  "Ah, Merchant Huo and his caravan have arrived," Li Feng observed. "They travel between the imperial city and the western territories, bringing news and goods to villages along their route."

  The merchants were greeted with enthusiasm by the locals, particularly Madame Peng, who showed unusual deference to the apparent leader. "My brother always times his arrivals to coincide with the best kitchen preparations," she declared loudly enough for the entire room to hear. "A merchant's sense for value extends even to family obligations!"

  This good-natured complaint produced laughter from both the newcomers and the established diners. The merchants distributed themselves among various tables, immediately launching into what appeared to be well-established routines of haggling, gossip exchange, and mutual exaggeration of business successes.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "The merchant caravans are vital to these remote communities," Li Feng explained as servers rushed to accommodate the new arrivals. "They bring not just goods but information, connecting isolated villages to broader regional developments."

  "Like a cultivation network extending spiritual energy to distant meridians," Xiaolong observed, drawing on a metaphor she thought might resonate with Li Feng's training.

  "An apt comparison," he agreed, looking pleasantly surprised by her insight. "Though merchants occasionally bring less beneficial influences as well. Information, like energy, isn't inherently positive or negative—its value depends on how it's channeled."

  The merchant leader, having completed his rounds of greeting, finally noticed Li Feng in the corner. His face brightened with recognition.

  "Elder Disciple Li!" he called across the room. "Fortune smiles on me twice today! First clear weather through Dragon's Tooth Pass, and now I find the Azure Waters Sect's rising star in my sister's humble establishment!"

  He made his way toward their table with the confident stride of someone accustomed to commanding attention, trailing a younger assistant laden with sample cases and ledgers.

  "Merchant Huo," Li Feng greeted him with polite respect. "Your caravan prospers, I hope?"

  "As well as can be expected in these troubled times," Huo replied with the ritual pessimism of all successful businessmen. "Bandits on the western roads, increased tariffs at the river crossings, and rumors of spirit beast migrations disrupting the northern route."

  He settled himself uninvited at their table, much as Old Man Zhao had done, though with considerably more displacement of air and rattling of jewelry. Where the elder had moved with sparse economy, Merchant Huo occupied space as though he had personally paid for each cubic inch and intended to extract maximum value.

  "But enough business complaints—what brings you to our little backwater? Last I heard, you were pursuing breakthrough at the sacred waterfalls." His gaze shifted to Xiaolong, assessment as nakedly commercial as if she were a bolt of silk at market. "And with interesting company, I see."

  Little Mei, still seated beside Xiaolong, scowled at the merchant with undisguised disapproval. "She's not for selling things to," the child declared protectively. "She's important."

  Huo chuckled indulgently. "All potential customers are important, little one. That's the first rule of successful commerce."

  He turned back to Li Feng. "But truly, what news from the cultivation world? The imperial city buzzes with rumors that the Azure Waters Sect may soon challenge Black Iron for the contested river valley territories."

  This casual mention of sect politics caught Xiaolong's attention. Territorial disputes among human cultivation sects seemed trivial compared to draconic domain conflicts, which could reshape continents, but Li Feng's subtle tension suggested this was sensitive information.

  "I've been in isolated communion at the Fourth Waterfall," he replied neutrally. "Sect politics await my return."

  "Of course, of course," Huo nodded with exaggerated understanding. "Discretion always. But if your sect plans any significant movements, certain supply arrangements might be advantageous to discuss in advance. My caravan has exclusive contracts with three major weapon forges and several high-quality talisman crafters."

  The merchant's transparent attempt to extract information through commercial propositions struck Xiaolong as both clumsy and oddly familiar. Dragons employed similar tactics in court politics, though with considerably more elegance and genocidal undertones.

  "The Azure Waters Sect values harmony above conflict," Li Feng stated, his diplomatic response revealing nothing while sounding substantive. "But I will convey your availability to Elder Wei upon our return."

  Merchant Huo accepted this polite deflection with practiced grace, turning his attention fully to Xiaolong. "And your companion? I don't recognize the cultivation style. Northern tradition, perhaps? The subtle coloration in the hair suggests Frost Peak influence."

  Before Xiaolong could respond, Little Mei interjected with childish bluntness. "She's a dragon pretending to be people."

  A brief, horrified silence fell over their immediate vicinity, broken only by the ambient noise from more distant tables. The merchant blinked rapidly, then burst into uproarious laughter.

  "A dragon! Magnificent imagination, child!" He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "If cultivators transformed into dragons with their advancement, we'd have far more volunteers for the arduous path, I assure you!"

  This reaction—treating the literal truth as absurd fiction—was simultaneously relieving and vaguely insulting to Xiaolong's draconic pride. Being mistaken for human was the goal of her disguise, yet having her true magnificent nature dismissed as childish fantasy felt oddly deflating.

  "Children see the world through story-colored lenses," Merchant Huo continued, still chuckling. "My own grandson insisted for a month that our household cat was actually the kitchen god in disguise."

  Little Mei's face scrunched with indignation. "I'm not making it up! Look at my drawing!"

  She thrust her portrait toward the merchant, who examined it with the indulgent attention adults reserve for children's artwork—a mixture of feigned interest and patronizing approval.

  "Very creative use of colors," he pronounced after a cursory glance. "You have artistic talent, child."

  This dismissal of her perception seemed to offend Mei more deeply than any argument could have. She gathered her drawing supplies with an expression of wounded dignity.

  "Grown-ups only see what they expect," she declared with the profound disappointment of the unheeded prophet, then slipped away from the table to rejoin her age-mates.

  "Children," Huo sighed fondly after she had departed. "Such delightful imaginations. My third daughter once convinced an entire village that she could speak to fish. Had the local fishermen offering sacrifices for weeks before we discovered her prank."

  He turned back to Xiaolong, his merchant's curiosity undiminished. "But truly, what tradition do you represent? Your energy signature contains elements I cannot place, and I pride myself on recognizing all major cultivation styles within the five provinces."

  This direct inquiry required a carefully constructed response. Xiaolong drew on her hastily prepared backstory.

  "I practice an eclectic method," she replied, the formal phrasing deliberately suggesting scholarly isolation. "My training incorporated elements from multiple traditions rather than following orthodox lineage."

  "Ah, an independent practitioner!" Huo's eyes gleamed with renewed interest. "Rare to see such achieve significant advancement without sect resources. You must possess extraordinary talent or unusual spiritual roots."

  The thinly veiled fishing for information mirrored technique she had observed in immortal court politics, where direct questions about power were considered vulgar, but indirect assessments were constant.

  "I have been fortunate in my cultivation journey," she acknowledged neutrally.

  Li Feng, apparently sensing her discomfort with the merchant's interrogation, smoothly redirected the conversation. "Merchant Huo, what news of the imperial court? Boundary Village receives little information from the capital."

  This deft change of subject worked precisely as intended. Huo immediately launched into an elaborate recounting of court politics, demonstrating the universal human tendency to prefer displaying knowledge over acquiring it when given the opportunity.

  Xiaolong found herself observing the social dynamics with increasing fascination.

  In dragon society, conversation followed rigid hierarchical patterns, with lower-ranked dragons speaking only when directly addressed by their superiors.

  Human interaction seemed chaotically democratic by comparison, with status determining influence rather than permission to participate.