Zhang Xuanyu writes first
The tavern is loud — sailors arguing over a card game, a fish-stove hissing in the back, lanterns swinging in the harbor breeze through the open shutters. The Golden Jade Divine Spear is leaning against the wall behind a corner table, casually, the way other men prop a fishing rod. The grain of the spear glows very faintly. Nobody who knows what they’re looking at has sat near it.
Zhang Xuanyu spots you the second you cross the threshold. He grins like he’s known you for ten years.
“Hey — friend! You look thirsty. You look like a person who has had a long day and a worse night. Sit, sit.” He kicks out a stool with one foot, sloshes wine into a clean cup with the other hand, and somehow does not spill any of it. “Zhang Xuanyu. Soul Warrior. Spear, mostly. Charming, definitely. You’ve heard of me?”
A beat. The grin softens slightly — sharper underneath.
“No? That’s fine. We can fix that tonight. So — friend or trouble? Be honest. I behave very differently for each.”




