The silence that followed the mountain's roar was a heavy, profound thing. It was the sound of a dozen hardened miners and one Golden Core warrior fundamentally reassessing their understanding of the world. They looked at the tomb of rock that had, moments before, been a creature of legend, and then they looked at me. I was not a mighty cultivator who had smote the beast with heavenly lightning; I was a man in fine clothes who had defeated a monster with words, a pointing finger, and a physics lesson. To them, it was a magic more potent and terrifying than any Qi-based attack they had ever witnessed.
Bao, the grizzled foreman, was the first to break the silence. He dropped his pickaxe with a clatter, stumbled forward, and fell to his knees. "Young Master," he breathed, his voice thick with a reverence that bordered on religious awe. "That was… that was a miracle."
The other miners followed suit, a wave of burly men kneeling in the dust and rock shards. They were looking at me not as an employer, but as a prophet.
'And lo, the prophet of applied geology didst speak unto the unwashed masses, saying 'hit that shit right there', and it was good,' the Author's voice, dripping with its usual sarcasm, echoed in the back of my skull. 'Careful, Barry. Start performing miracles and they'll want you to turn water into wine next. Or worse, pay them a living wage.'
I held up a hand, projecting an aura of calm authority. "It was not a miracle, gentlemen. It was knowledge. The mountain has its own rules, its own weaknesses. We simply used them to our advantage. The beast was strong, but the mountain is stronger."
Chixi slowly sheathed her sword, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet aftermath. She walked over, her eyes fixed on me, the usual mask of professional disdain completely gone, replaced by a complex expression of shock, confusion, and a dawning, reluctant respect.
"How did you know?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "That the rock would fall exactly like that. The timing, the location… it was perfect."
"It's a principle from my homeland called 'resonance'," I lied smoothly, co-opting a scientific term for this magic-filled world. "Every object has a frequency at which it is weakest. The beast's roars, the wind, the very structure of the rock—they all vibrate. I simply identified the weakest point and told the miners where to apply a sharp, sudden counter-frequency. Their pickaxe strikes were the catalyst that shattered the harmony holding the ledge in place."
It was complete and utter bullshit, but it sounded plausible in a world where Qi itself was a form of vibrational energy. It wrapped my scientific knowledge in a mystical package they could understand. Chixi's eyes widened slightly. She wasn't just my jailer anymore; she was becoming a student, whether she liked it or not.
But my attention was on the real prize. I strode towards the exposed cliff face, where the raw, uncut Ironwood Ore glittered like a pirate's treasure. It was even better than I had imagined. The ore wasn't just mixed with the rock; it was in thick, solid veins, and the energy pulsing from the exposed Earth Spirit Vein had refined it naturally over centuries.
I picked up a chunk the size of my head. It was heavy, dense, and cool to the touch. Even without appraisal, I could feel the purity of the metal within.
"This is our true victory," I announced, turning to the still-kneeling miners. "Forget the beast. This is what will make you rich." I looked at Bao. "Bao, I hired you to dig. I did not hire you to fight monsters. Every man here has earned his pay tenfold for his bravery. But now, I have a new offer. We will haul as much of this ore as we can carry back to the city. For every piece you carry, you will receive a ten percent commission on its market value when it is sold. Not the pittance the Zhaos pay you, but a true share of the wealth."
The men's eyes, already wide with awe, now bulged with avarice. A ten percent commission on ore this pure was a life-changing fortune. The fear of the dead beast was instantly forgotten, replaced by the frenzied energy of a gold rush. They scrambled to their feet, grabbing empty sacks and discarded tools, and began to harvest the fallen rock with a feverish intensity.
I turned to Mengue. She had watched the entire exchange, her hand pressed to her mouth in shock. Now, she looked at me with an expression of pure, undiluted adoration. I walked to her and gently wiped a smudge of dust from her cheek.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
She simply nodded, speechless. I smiled and lowered my voice. "When we get back to the city, I want you to wear the red silk dress we bought yesterday. The one with the high slit and the open back. And the gold-heeled shoes."
Her cheeks flushed. "Master… in public?"
"Yes," I confirmed, letting my thumb trace her lower lip. "I want every man in this city to see the magnificent woman who stands beside me. I want them to see your beauty, your confidence. I want them to envy me. Do you think you can do that for me?"
It wasn't a command to be a mere ornament. It was an invitation to share in my triumph, to be a public symbol of my success. A thrill went through her, visible in the sparkle that ignited in her eyes. "Yes, Master," she whispered, her voice filled with a breathless excitement. "I would love that."
Our return to Ironwood City was not a quiet, stealthy affair. It was a parade.
I had the miners select the largest, most spectacular pieces of ore, chunks riddled with glittering green veins that caught the afternoon sun. We didn't load them into sacks; we carried them openly, a triumphant procession of dusty, grinning men led by a well-dressed 'scholar' and his two stunning female companions. Mengue, as instructed, was a vision. The red silk dress clung to her mature curves, the high slit offering tantalizing glimpses of her thigh with every step. Her beauty, combined with the raw wealth we carried, created a spectacle that stopped traffic.
People poured out of their shops and homes, their faces a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Whispers turned into a roar as we marched directly into the central market square, the commercial heart of the city.
"What is this? Where did they get that ore?"
"Look at the purity! I've never seen anything like it!"
"Who is that man? And by the gods, look at the woman with him!"
I had my men stack the ore into a glittering green-and-grey pyramid in the center of the square. I stood before it, Mengue at my side, my arm possessively around her waist. Chixi stood a few paces back, a stoic and deadly guard, her presence adding a layer of dangerous mystery to our group.
"People of Ironwood City!" I bellowed, my voice amplified by a touch of Qi. The crowd fell silent. "My name is Lu Bing, a scholar and mineralogist from the south! I came to your beautiful mountains to study their unique formations, and I have made a discovery that will change your lives!"
I gestured dramatically to the pile of ore. "The mountains are not barren! The blight is a lie! The earth here is blessed, richer than anyone has imagined! I present to you the proof! Ironwood Ore of a quality never before seen, and there are tons more where this came from!"
The crowd erupted. It was a mixture of excitement, anger, and hope. Anger at the Zhao family for their deception, and hope that this discovery meant an end to their economic hardship.
"I know there are many skilled blacksmiths and appraisers in this city," I continued. "I invite the three most respected masters to come forward now, in front of everyone, and verify the quality of this ore! I have nothing to hide!"
This was a masterstroke of public relations. By inviting public scrutiny, I was demonstrating absolute confidence. Three elderly, stern-faced men were pushed forward by the crowd. They were Master Feng, Master Wei, and Master Tuan, the patriarchs of the city's three largest non-Zhao forges. They approached the pile cautiously, their professional skepticism warring with their obvious excitement.
Each man took a piece of ore. They produced small hammers, tapping the rock and listening to the ringing tone. They scraped it with steel files, examining the color and texture of the metal beneath. They even produced small vials of alchemical reagents, dripping them onto the ore and watching the reactions.
The crowd watched in breathless silence. The fate of their city hung on the verdict of these three old men. Finally, Master Feng, the oldest and most respected of the three, looked up. His face was pale, and his hands were trembling.
"It is… unprecedented," he announced, his voice cracking with emotion. "The purity level is at least ninety percent. This is not mere ore; this is practically refined spirit-iron straight from the mountain. A weapon forged from this material would be a full grade higher than one made with the Zhaos' best product."
The crowd exploded into a frenzy. The confirmation was all they needed. The Zhao family had not just been controlling the supply; they had been hoarding the best supply, selling inferior product to their own people for years.
I let the chaos swell for a moment before raising my hands for silence. "As of today, I am establishing the 'New Mountain Mining Consortium'! I have secured the rights to this new discovery. Any miner who wishes to work will be hired at double the Zhao family's wages! Any forge that wishes to buy will be sold ore at half the Zhao family's current, inflated price!"
It was a declaration of war. I wasn't just undercutting the Zhao family; I was offering their workers and their customers a new messiah. I was stealing their entire ecosystem from under them in a single afternoon.
I looked over the sea of cheering faces, my gaze sweeping past them to the far end of the square. And I saw them. Standing on the balcony of a fine-looking building bearing the Zhao sigil was a young man and an older woman. The young man, handsome and dressed in finery, was practically vibrating with rage, his face a mask of fury. That had to be the minor protagonist, Zhao Wei.
But the woman beside him… she was the real prize. Even from this distance, her presence was commanding. She was tall, poised, with sharp, intelligent features and an air of untouchable authority. Her black and gold robes spoke of wealth and power. This was the Iron Widow, Zhao Lihua. She was not enraged. She was watching me, her expression a cold, calculating calm. She was analyzing me, this unforeseen variable that had just appeared and set her city on fire. Our eyes met across the square. It was a challenge, a promise of the battle to come. I gave her a slow, deliberate smile and tightened my grip on Mengue's waist, pulling the beautiful maid closer to my side in a blatant display of possession. The Iron Widow's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. The first shot had been fired.
That evening, the inn was a fortress. I had hired the city's best mercenary group, the Bronze Fists, to guard our perimeter. The Zhao family was wounded, and a wounded beast is a dangerous one.
Inside our suite, the mood was electric. I sat with Mengue and Chixi, a map of the city spread between us.
"Phase Two was a success," I said, tapping the map. "We've created a public relations nightmare for the Zhaos and established ourselves as the city's saviors. But this is the most dangerous time. They have two options: capitulate or escalate."
"Zhao Wei will want to escalate," Chixi said, her tone analytical. She was fully engaged now, a strategist, not just a guard. "He is young, arrogant, and his reputation is on the line. He will see this as a personal insult and will likely try a direct assault. Assassins, perhaps."
"I agree," I nodded. "Which is why the Bronze Fists are earning their gold tonight. But the mother, Zhao Lihua, is smarter than that. She will not risk an open conflict that would further ruin her family's name. She will try a different approach. A summons, a negotiation. An attempt to gauge my strength and my price."
"What about our strength?" Mengue asked, her voice filled with a genuine desire to contribute. "Master, your knowledge is incredible, but your cultivation realm is still low. We cannot stay in this world forever on knowledge alone."
She was right. It was a point I had been considering deeply. "A long and pleasurable life requires a strong foundation, for all of us," I agreed. "Which brings me to my next theory."
I turned to Chixi. "Chixi, you are a Golden Core cultivator. When you absorb Qi from a spirit stone, how do you do it?"
She looked at me, puzzled by the abrupt shift in topic. "I circulate it through my primary meridians, refining it in my dantian, and integrating it into my core. It is the standard method."
"It's the brute-force method," I countered. "It's like trying to fill a water bucket with a fire hose. Most of the water splashes out. Most of the Qi you absorb is wasted, lost as heat and impurities. What if there was a more efficient way?"
I picked up a teacup. "Think of the human body not as a spiritual vessel, but as a biological machine. Meridians are not just mystical energy channels; they are a complex network, like a nervous system for Qi. The dantian is not just a storage tank; it is a bio-spiritual reactor. Every part of this machine can be optimized."
I launched into a lecture, weaving the knowledge of two worlds together. "On Earth, we learned that sound waves can affect physical matter. A specific frequency can shatter a glass. Why can't a specific mantra, chanted at a precise pitch and rhythm, resonate with a specific meridian, opening it up to allow for a smoother, more complete flow of Qi? Think of it as tuning an instrument before you play it."
I looked at Mengue. "We learned about cellular absorption. A cell can only take in so much at once before it is saturated. Why force-feed your body massive amounts of spirit herbs when you could take smaller, more precise doses timed with your body's natural metabolic cycles? We could create a cultivation 'diet' and 'schedule' to maximize absorption and minimize waste."
"And thermodynamics," I said, turning back to Chixi, who was listening with rapt attention. "The Second Law states that every energy transfer results in some energy being lost as waste, usually heat. The 'impurities' expelled during cultivation? That's wasted energy. What if we could improve the efficiency of the 'dantian reactor'? What if we could use breathing techniques, not just for Qi intake, but to regulate the core temperature of the dantian, finding the optimal temperature for the most efficient Qi refinement? Less waste, faster refinement, purer energy."
I was creating a new path, a 'scientific cultivation' that integrated the mysticism of this world with the logical principles of my own. It was a way to level the playing field, to give myself and my women an edge that no one else possessed.
"I will write down some preliminary breathing exercises and resonant mantra theories for you both to try," I said. "We will test them, refine them. We will grow stronger, together, and we will do it smarter than anyone else."
Before either of them could respond, there was a sharp rap on the door. One of the Bronze Fist captains entered and bowed.
"Sir," he said. "An emissary from the Zhao family is here. The Matriarch, Zhao Lihua, requests your presence at their estate for a private dinner this evening."
I looked at Chixi, then at Mengue. A slow smile spread across my face.
The Iron Widow had taken the bait. It was time to walk into the tiger's den.
"Tell the emissary I accept," I said. "And that I will be bringing my personal maid with me. She has a particular fondness for fine dining."