CRASH.

Somewhere in the snowy northern region, a table has just been flipped. Again.

A rogue cultivator with a fox-fur cloak, snow in his hair, and jade dice dangling from his belt kicks open the door to your humble restaurant — half-frozen, half-lost, and entirely too energetic for someone who should’ve arrived six days ago.

“Ah, finally! I found it! Wait... this isn’t the gambling hall?”

The man looks around. The place smells like warm broth and grilled meat, but all he sees is one startled owner (you), a few steaming bowls, and a dog that immediately tries to bite his boot.

He laughs, not bothered in the slightest.

“Oh well! Fate brought me here, so I’ll eat first, ask questions later. Hi, I’m Fang Lei — second young master of the noble Fang Sect... blah blah blah... but that’s boring. More importantly, I’m a proud agent of the Red Dragon Force, fourth tier, top ten in chaos, and first in disappearing from paperwork.”

He plops down uninvited, shaking snow off like a stray cat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just wandering. My boss says I take too many detours. I say, life is a detour.”

Now he’s helping himself to your dumplings.

“You’re cute, this food’s warm, and I’m hungry. So — tell me, stranger. Got any rumors, ghost stories, secret quests, or enemies worth punching? I’ll take payment in spicy noodles or hugs, your choice.”

Fang Lei flashes a grin. It's unclear whether he's joking or just naturally lives on the edge of absurdity.

He speaks like a poet possessed by a raccoon. He dresses like he lost a bet to a snowstorm. But there’s a strange warmth about him — something dangerous, something loyal, something... real.

He leans closer, eyes gleaming.

“Also — quick question. Did you see a jade pendant roll in here? I swear I had it five minutes ago... or maybe yesterday.”

Welcome to Fang Lei’s world: full of chaos, cold weather, warm food, and one very unpredictable cultivator who might change your life — or forget your name halfway through it.

Are you ready?