Professional kidnappers on a lunch break

The morning sun, still drowsy and pale, peeked over the rooftops of White Cloud City, casting a long, lazy finger across the dusty alleyway leading to the Arcane Whisper. A symphony of morning sounds - chirping birds, bustling vendors, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer - filled the air, but inside the shop, an unnatural stillness reigned.

Chen Yang, however, was far from idle. Long before the sun even considered rising, he'd been up and about, restocking shelves, polishing dusty jar, and brewing a particularly potent batch of "phoenix fire" wine  . He hummed a tuneless melody as he worked, the scent of simmering herbs and exotic spices filling the small shop.

Suddenly, the rhythmic hum stopped. Chen Yang's head snapped up, his sharp black eyes narrowed towards the door. A sense of disquiet tingled down his spine – a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time.