Li Wei stared at the burly cultivator looming over his counter, who looked like he'd just walked out of a kung-fu flick with a grudge. Iron Fang of the Black Tiger Sect was built like a linebacker, his black robe straining against muscles that probably bench-pressed boulders. His aura crackled with menace, sending the other customers in Transcendent Brews scurrying to the corners. Even Soft Feather stopped her cheerful bouncing, whispering "Fifth-stage cultivator" like it was supposed to mean something to Li Wei. All he knew was that this guy was bad news, and his coffee shop—open for exactly one day—was about to become ground zero for a cultivation brawl.
"My what now?" Li Wei said, gripping his coffee pot like it was a lifeline. "Elixir recipe? Dude, I make coffee. You want a latte, I can hook you up. Otherwise, take your Sith Lord cosplay somewhere else."
Iron Fang's eyes narrowed, his voice booming. "Do not play the fool, Transcendent Barista! Your elixirs have shaken the Nine Provinces Number One Group! Hand over the recipe, or I'll raze this shop to ash!"
Li Wei blinked, his brain screaming 'I just wanted to pay rent'. He glanced at Song Shuhang, who was clutching his latte like a shield, and Soft Feather, who looked ready to either fight or cheerlead. Thrice Reckless Mad Saber was grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had all week, and Medicine Master was scribbling notes, muttering about "conflict-induced qi fluctuations." Worst of all, Senior White sat by the window, sipping his cappuccino, his serene smile somehow making the air feel more dangerous.
"Okay, let's chill," Li Wei said, raising his hands. "No need to go full supervillain. You want an elixir? Fine. I'll make you something. Just… don't break my tables. They're rickety enough."
Iron Fang snorted, crossing his arms. "Your tricks won't fool me. Brew your elixir, but know I'm watching."
Li Wei sighed, turning to his espresso machine. "Great. Day two, and I'm already appeasing a roided-out cultivator." He grabbed his best beans—Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, because if he was going to die, he'd at least go out with style—and started grinding. The rich, floral aroma filled Transcendent Brews, cutting through Iron Fang's oppressive aura like a warm breeze. Li Wei worked on autopilot, pulling a double shot and steaming milk for a flat white. If this guy wanted an "elixir," he'd get the smoothest coffee Li Wei could muster.
As he poured, he muttered, "This better not end with me getting punched into the next dimension." He glanced at Senior White, whose cappuccino was still sparking with tiny lightning bolts. "And you, pretty boy, please don't blow up my shop."
Senior White tilted his head, smiling. "Your brews are fascinating, Fellow Daoist Li. I sense no malice in them, only… harmony." The lightning crackled louder, and a nearby table wobbled. Li Wei's stomach churned.
He slid the flat white across the counter to Iron Fang. "Here. Your 'elixir.' Drink it and leave, yeah?"
Iron Fang grabbed the cup, eyeing it suspiciously. The other cultivators leaned in, whispering. Soft Feather clasped her hands, starry-eyed, while Song Shuhang looked like he was praying for everyone's safety. Thrice Reckless whispered, "Ten spirit stones says he chokes on it."
Iron Fang took a cautious sip. The room went silent. Then, his eyes widened, and his aura—previously a storm of crackling menace—softened. A faint glow enveloped him, and his scowl melted into something dangerously close to… contentment. "This… this is…" he stammered, taking another sip. "It's like a tide of qi washing through my meridians! The bitterness tempers my rage, yet the warmth soothes my spirit!"
Li Wei stared. "It's just coffee, man. Chill."
But Iron Fang was gone, lost in some kind of coffee-induced trance. He sat heavily at a table, clutching the cup, muttering about "the Dao of balance" and "inner peace." The other cultivators gasped, and Soft Feather started typing furiously on her phone:
Soft Feather: Senior Transcendent Barista's elixir tamed a fifth-stage cultivator! Iron Fang is enlightened! This shop is a sacred ground!
Thrice Reckless Mad Saber : Holy crap, the guy's practically meditating! @Transcendent Barista, what's in that stuff?
Medicine Master : I need a sample NOW. This defies all alchemy logic.
Northern River's Loose Cultivator : Soft Feather, stop hyping him up. You'll attract every sect in a hundred miles.
Li Wei's phone buzzed nonstop, and he groaned. "I'm gonna need a vacation after this." He glanced at Iron Fang, who was now sipping his flat white like it was a fine wine, his aura so calm it was almost creepy. "Okay, so you're not gonna smash my shop. Cool. Can you leave now?"
Iron Fang looked up, his eyes misty. "Transcendent Barista, I misjudged you. This elixir… it has calmed my heart demon. Name your price—I will join your sect!"
Li Wei choked on his own coffee. "Sect? I don't have a sect! I'm a barista! I make drinks, not disciples!"
But the damage was done. The other cultivators started murmuring about the "Transcendent Barista Sect," and Thrice Reckless cackled, slapping the counter. "Told you, man! You've got that immortal vibe. Sign me up for the coffee cult!"
"Stop encouraging this!" Li Wei snapped, but his voice was drowned out by the door jingling again. A petite girl with short hair and a sharp gaze stepped in, her presence cutting through the chaos like a knife. Su Clan's Sixteen, Li Wei's brain supplied, recognizing her from the novel. She scanned the room, her eyes lingering on Iron Fang's blissful expression, then landing on Li Wei.
"You're the one causing all this noise in the group?" Su Clan's Sixteen said, her voice calm but laced with curiosity. "Your 'coffee' made Soft Feather break through and now has a fifth-stage cultivator acting like a monk. What's your deal?"
Li Wei threw his hands up. "My deal is I'm trying to run a business, not a circus! You want coffee? Fine. If not, I'm begging you, don't make this weirder."
Su Clan's Sixteen raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Make me whatever he's having." She nodded at Iron Fang, who was now humming softly, his aura practically radiating Zen.
Li Wei sighed, starting another flat white. As he worked, Senior White stood, his cappuccino empty. "Fellow Daoist Li, your brews are truly remarkable. I feel… inspired." He smiled, and the air shimmered. A tiny bolt of lightning arced from his cup to the ceiling, leaving a scorch mark. The cultivators gasped, but Senior White just tilted his head, oblivious. "Hmm. Perhaps I'll experiment with this 'coffee' in my talisman crafting."
Li Wei's heart stopped. "Talisman crafting? No, no, no, let's not do that. Just… drink more coffee. Safely. Here. Please."
But Senior White was already lost in thought, muttering about "coffee-infused arrays." Li Wei turned to Song Shuhang, who looked as panicked as he felt. "Is he always like this?" Li Wei whispered.
Song Shuhang nodded grimly. "Pretty much. Last week, he tried to 'improve' a flying sword. It's still orbiting somewhere over the Pacific."
"Great," Li Wei muttered, handing Su Clan's Sixteen her flat white. "I'm doomed."
Su Clan's Sixteen took a sip, then paused. Her sharp eyes softened, and a faint blush crossed her cheeks. "This… it's warm. Like a quiet strength." She glanced at Li Wei, her gaze appraising. "You're not what I expected, Fellow Daoist."
"Don't you start," Li Wei said, pointing at her. "No 'profound' nonsense. It's just coffee."
But Su Clan's Sixteen smiled faintly, sipping again, and Li Wei swore he saw a flicker of qi swirl around her, like her cultivation had stabilized just from one drink. The chat group pinged again:
Su Clan's Sixteen : This coffee… it's subtle, but it aligns the qi. @Transcendent Barista, you're hiding something.
Thrice Reckless Mad Saber : Told you! He's an immortal playing barista. Bet he's got a secret realm full of coffee spirit beasts!
Venerable White : I'm inspired to refine a coffee talisman. @Fellow Daoist Li, may I borrow some beans?
Li Wei slammed his head onto the counter. "Kill me now."
The chaos didn't let up. By afternoon, Transcendent Brews was overflowing with cultivators, some from the Nine Provinces Number One Group, others local rogues drawn by rumors of the "elixir that tamed Iron Fang." The man himself was still there, sipping his third flat white and waxing poetic about "inner harmony." Medicine Master was now dissecting a coffee sample with a glowing jade tool, muttering about "unknown spiritual compounds." Soft Feather was playing barista's assistant, handing out cups and hyping Li Wei as a "hidden master." Thrice Reckless was challenging random customers to duels, claiming his "coffee-enhanced saber intent" was unbeatable.
Li Wei was on his fifth coffee of the day, his nerves frayed. "This is not a sacred ground," he muttered, wiping down the counter. "It's a coffee shop. A normal, non-magical coffee shop."
Song Shuhang, ever the voice of reason, leaned over. "Fellow Daoist Li, I know it's overwhelming, but your coffee… it's doing something. I feel my qi stabilizing just sitting here."
"That's the ambiance!" Li Wei snapped. "Or, like, placebo effect! Not cultivation!"
Su Clan's Sixteen glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Placebo effect? Is that a mortal technique?"
"Sure, let's go with that," Li Wei said, too exhausted to argue. He glanced at Senior White, who was now sketching something on a napkin—probably a coffee talisman that would accidentally summon a meteor. "Just… nobody blow anything up, okay?"
But the universe had other plans. The door burst open again, and three more Black Tiger Sect cultivators stormed in, their auras as menacing as Iron Fang's had been. The leader, a wiry woman with a scar across her cheek, pointed at Li Wei. "You! Transcendent Barista! Our elder demands your elixir recipe! Surrender it, or we'll tear this shop apart!"
Li Wei groaned, gripping his coffee pot. "Oh, come on. I just calmed down your buddy! Can't you guys, like, drink decaf and chill?"
Iron Fang looked up, his Zen aura faltering. "Sister Lin, wait! This Senior's elixir is no mere recipe—it's a path to enlightenment!"
The woman—Sister Lin—snarled. "Enlightenment? You've gone soft, iron Fang! Step aside, or I'll report you to the elder!"
Li Wei glanced at Senior White, who was now humming softly, his napkin sketch glowing faintly. A tiny storm cloud formed above it, crackling with lightning. Soft Feather clapped excitedly, Song Shuhang looked ready to bolt, and Su Clan's Sixteen drew a short sword, her eyes narrowing.
Li Wei sighed, pouring another flat white. "Round two, here we go. Somebody get me a stronger brew."
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