177A Bleecker Street

Early March in New York still carried the tail end of winter, cold, damp, and bleak. Wind blew in from the Hudson River, laden with moisture and chill, slipping down his collar with an icy bite.

Chen Xiao stood on the sidewalk of Bleecker Street, a Coke in his left hand and a crumpled map in his right.

The map's folds had been worn white. He had traded food to a homeless man for it, though he did not need the thing at all. Would a Kamar-Taj disciple need a map to find his own Sanctum? That would be far too embarrassing.

Yet he still held it.

Because a young Asian man wandering around this street empty-handed would stand out far too much. Holding a map at least made him look like a tourist.

He strolled leisurely along the street, his gaze passing over the numbers on each building.

Bleecker Street was not particularly wide. Typical New York row houses lined both sides, built from red brick or brownstone, three or four stories tall, their facades narrow like a row of lanky figures standing shoulder to shoulder. A few small cafés and antique shops were scattered along the street, their display windows filled with dusty old books and rusted brassware. A homeless man curled up beside a trash can beneath a cardboard sheet, snoring louder than the traffic.

173... 175...

177A Bleecker Street.

From the outside, this building looked almost no different from its neighbors on either side. The same brownstone walls, the same narrow door.

A thought stirred.

The wall before him suddenly rippled like water. The brown bricks became transparent waves spreading outward in widening rings. Chen Xiao stepped forward, his entire body sinking into the wall as though swallowed by an invisible opening. The ripples closed behind him, and the bricks returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

The next second, he was standing inside the Sanctum.

The light dimmed.

It was not gloom, but a textured, tranquil darkness. The air held a faint scent of sandalwood mixed with old paper and beeswax. A dark red Persian rug lay in the entryway, its patterns intricate and its edges worn. To the left stood a dark wooden table with a brass lamp on it, its amber glass shade casting a dim yellow glow.

Chen Xiao raised his head.

A crystal chandelier hung overhead, covered in a thin layer of dust. Straight ahead was a spiral staircase leading to the second floor. Vines and flowers had been carved into its wooden railing, polished smooth and bright from use.

If this were made into bead bracelets, plenty of old men would fight to buy it.

All kinds of magical artifacts hung on the walls—a bronze mirror, a dagger, a metal disc of unknown purpose, and several yellowed oil paintings. The figures in those paintings watched newcomers with heavy gazes, as though they were alive.

Several stacks of ancient books sat piled in a corner, with leather covers and brass corner protectors. They leaned precariously, and the topmost volume looked ready to slide off.

The whole place was like a museum forgotten by time, yet also like an old man who had lived for centuries—quiet, composed, and carrying a faintly careless arrogance.

Before Chen Xiao could take a closer look, hurried footsteps sounded from upstairs.

Tap tap tap tap—

It was not the normal gait of one person walking, but the sound of someone jogging down the stairs, perhaps even running and hopping at once. The footsteps came closer and faster, accompanied by a soft thump—probably a knee or elbow striking the railing.

A middle-aged man rushed out from around the bend of the spiral staircase.

He wore a well-tailored dark three-piece suit, with a pocket-watch chain tucked into his vest pocket. His hair was neatly combed, every strand in place, as though he had just stepped out of a Wall Street office. Yet none of a Wall Street elite's composure remained on his face. His short sprint had left fine beads of sweat on his temples, and his lips were slightly parted as he caught his breath.

Watching the flustered Daniel Drumm, Chen Xiao was a little puzzled.

Standing in the middle of the hall, he faced the man on the stairs, folded his hands before him, bent slightly at the waist, and gave the standard bow of a Kamar-Taj disciple.

"Greetings, Master Drumm~"

Daniel Drumm—the guardian of the New York Sanctum—seemed as though he had been pricked by a needle. He took the last few steps two at a time, his leather shoes striking the stone floor in a rapid series of taps. After stopping, he first drew a deep breath to steady himself, then folded his hands and bowed even lower than Chen Xiao.

"Senior Brother." His voice carried obvious nervousness and respect, with a slight tremble at the end. "You are far too polite."

Still bent over, Daniel waved his hands repeatedly. The sweat on his temples gleamed under the light. "You are the chief senior brother. Just call me Daniel. 'Master Drumm' and all that... I truly cannot bear it. Call me Daniel, and I'll answer faster."

Chen Xiao straightened and smiled as he looked over the Sanctum's guardian.

Daniel was around forty, with regular features, deep-set eyes, and the sort of face perfectly suited for an ID photo. A neatly folded handkerchief peeked from his suit pocket, while the buttons on his shirt cuffs were silver, engraved with tiny spell formations—something one might mistake for a luxury brand logo without looking closely.

But judging from his slightly hurried breathing and the sweat still on his temples, this guardian had clearly been badly frightened by Ancient One's "advance notice."

Understandable.

The Sorcerer Supreme had personally said that her chief disciple was coming to "help"—anyone would be nervous.

"I thought you would come through the portal array."

"All right, then. Sorry for the trouble." Chen Xiao did not stand on ceremony, speaking as casually as if he were talking to an old friend. "I wanted to look around the city. After all, I'll be living here for a while."

"No trouble at all!" Daniel waved his hands again, speaking noticeably faster than before. "It is my honor that Senior Brother has come to the New York Sanctum. The Sorcerer Supreme has already told me that you may stay here as long as you wish and use whatever you wish. You may draw upon all the Sanctum's resources. Read whatever you like in the Library, use any artifact from the artifact room, and the kitchen—"

"The kitchen?" Chen Xiao raised a brow.

Daniel froze for a moment, then realized he had let that slip and hurriedly corrected himself. "Uh... the kitchen as well. The Sanctum kitchen is not used very often, but I can have someone purchase ingredients. Just tell me whatever you want to eat."

Chen Xiao suddenly laughed. Kamar-Taj bows were mostly given out of respect, but Daniel's nervous manner unintentionally reminded him of scenes from the past, when leaders came around for inspections.

As his laughter rang out, Daniel relaxed. His tense shoulders dropped slightly, and the expression on his face shifted from nervousness into sincere, somewhat bashful enthusiasm. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket—not the decorative one in his suit pocket, but another one—and wiped the sweat from his temples before stepping aside with a gesture of invitation.

"Senior Brother, let me show you around the Sanctum first. There are three floors, plus a basement, as well as a Library and an artifact display room. I have already had your room prepared. It is on the third floor, with the best view. I did not expect you to arrive so quickly. If you need anything, just let me know."

Daniel led Chen Xiao toward the stairs, introducing the place as they walked.

"The first floor is the main hall and reception rooms. We handle visitors and other business here. This chandelier is from the seventeenth century. They say Master Vhatum personally blessed it—though I cannot say for certain whether that is true." He pointed to the crystal chandelier overhead and smiled. "The second floor contains the Library and meditation rooms. Most of the ancient books are there. Some were sent directly from Kamar-Taj, while others were collected by generations of guardians. The third floor has bedrooms and a small training room, with better privacy."

Chen Xiao nodded as he listened, his gaze occasionally drifting to the artifacts hanging on the walls.

When they reached the second-floor landing, he suddenly stopped and pointed at a bronze mirror mounted on the wall.

The bronze mirror was about the size of a palm, its surface polished bright, with a ring of runes Chen Xiao did not recognize carved around its frame. He leaned closer and saw something flowing deep within the mirror—not a reflected image, but light and shadow moving inside the mirror itself.

"This—"

"Ah." Daniel glanced at it, his tone becoming more casual. "That is a replica of the Eye of Dormammu. Its functions are limited; it is mainly used to detect dimensional rifts. The genuine article is in the London Sanctum. It is much larger and much more effective. This one..." He flicked the frame with a finger, producing a dull sound. "Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not. I mostly use it as decoration."

Chen Xiao gave an "Oh" and continued upstairs.

But he was thinking about something else.

Dormammu.

The Dark Dimension.

Kaecilius's future "master."

I wonder how things are going on Kaecilius's end now... Forget it. If Ancient One isn't worried, there's no point in me worrying.

The third floor.

The corridor was narrower than the floors below, but it had better lighting. A row of windows stood on the right, afternoon sunlight streaming through the glass and casting long slanting patches of light across the dark wooden floor. Several doors lined the left side, their heavy panels fitted with polished brass handles.

Daniel pushed open a door at the end of the hallway, stepped aside, and gestured for him to enter.

"Senior Brother, this is your room."

Chen Xiao walked in and looked around.

The room was not large, but it was very clean. A five-foot bed stood against the wall, its white sheets and bedding folded neatly. A small sprig of dried lavender rested on the pillow—probably Daniel's work, or that of some thoughtful disciple. A dark wooden desk stood by the window, its surface bare except for a small lamp and a ceramic pen holder. Beside the desk was a simple wardrobe, its door half-open to reveal several empty hangers inside.

A meditation cushion sat in the inner corner against the wall. Its dark blue fabric was worn around the edges, clearly old, but it had been washed clean.

The south-facing window let in just the right amount of sunlight, bathing the whole room in warmth. Outside, the view overlooked Bleecker Street. He could see the rooftops of brownstone buildings opposite, a pigeon perched on a chimney, and a small patch of sky faintly visible in the distance.

"Not bad," Chen Xiao said sincerely.

Daniel smiled in relief. He remained at the doorway instead of entering, unconsciously clasping his hands in front of him. "I am glad you are satisfied. The sheets and bedding have all been freshly changed. There is paper, pens, stationery, and a good fountain pen in the desk drawer. If you need anything else, just tell me. There is hot water downstairs, and as for bathing—"

"That's enough, that's enough." Chen Xiao waved him off and walked to the window, pushing it open. The March wind swept in, carrying the clamor of the city. "I'm easy to accommodate. As long as I have somewhere to sleep, I'm fine. I can handle bathing and things like that myself. No need to worry."

Daniel stood at the door, his lips moving as though he wanted to say something, but he hesitated.

Chen Xiao noticed and turned to look at him. "Is there anything else?"

"Um... Senior Brother." Daniel carefully considered his words, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the doorknob. "The Sorcerer Supreme said you came to New York to... uh... 'make friends'? I do not really understand what that specifically means. But if there is anything you need me to do, or any support you need from the Sanctum, please just say so. I may not be particularly capable, but I have lived in New York for more than ten years. I know the city fairly well."

His expression was so earnest that it was almost excessive, like a newly hired employee trying hard to prove his worth to his supervisor.

Chen Xiao looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Daniel," he said, "you're an honest man."

Daniel smiled awkwardly, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.

"Don't worry." Chen Xiao turned around, leaning back against the windowsill with his hands in his pockets. "I won't cause you any trouble."

He paused, tilting his head to glance at the bustling New York streets outside. His voice dropped, as though speaking to himself.

"At least... I'll try not to."

Daniel opened his mouth, seeming as though he wanted to say that it would be fine even if he did cause trouble, but in the end, he said nothing. He nodded, quietly backed out, and gently closed the door.

The sound of the door closing was very soft, with only a faint click as the latch caught in the frame.

Chen Xiao stood before the window, both hands resting on the sill.

He took a deep breath, taking in the city's distinctive air, mixed with exhaust fumes and the scent of hot dogs. A siren wailed in the distance. Someone honked a car horn downstairs. The pigeon on the rooftop opposite flapped away.

"Make friends..." he murmured, repeating Ancient One's words as the corners of his mouth slowly rose.

Then we'll start by getting acquainted, right?