The journey back to the Lu Clan was a study in contrasts. The carriage, the same one that had taken me away from this stagnant backwater, now felt cramped and provincial. My mind, once a simple vessel of Earthly knowledge and perverted daydreams, was now a bustling metropolis of corporate blueprints, military doctrines, and the complex, interwoven psychological profiles of four very different, very powerful women. I had left a boy in a man's body. I was returning as a puppeteer with his sights set on the world's strings.
My thoughts were a tapestry woven from the threads of my new life. There was the thread of Lihua, black silk shot through with gold, representing our ambitious, transactional, and intensely carnal partnership. She was a super-massive black hole, her gravitational pull immense, demanding that all light bend to her will. My lie about her being my one true goddess was a necessary piece of orbital mechanics, a calculated burn to keep my own small ship from being torn apart by her tidal forces. It was a beautiful, thrilling lie, and I savored it.
Then there was the thread of Mengue, a soft, warm cashmere of deep crimson. The memory of our last night together was a brand on my soul, a counterpoint to the cold, clinical humiliation Lihua had subjected me to.
(Flashback - The Night Before Departure)
She had come to me in my chambers, not as a servant, but as a woman on a mission. The riding crop was gone, replaced by an aura of quiet, unshakeable confidence that was more commanding than any weapon.
"You are leaving," she had whispered, her hands tracing the lines of my chest as I lay in bed. "You are going back to a place of cold stone and colder hearts. Before you go, I want to give you something to remember. A warmth to carry with you."
Her dominance was not in commands or punishments. It was in her absolute, unwavering focus on my pleasure. She took me in her mouth with a slow, tender reverence that was a prayer in itself. Her eyes never left mine, and in them, I saw not the desire to control, but the profound joy of giving. She was not a queen demanding tribute; she was a goddess bestowing a blessing.
Later, as she rode me, her movements were a slow, sensuous dance, a stark contrast to Lihua's frantic, possessive grinding. She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear.
"This is yours," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "This body. This pleasure. It is all yours. No one else can have this from me. And no one else can have this from you. This part of you, the part that needs this… it belongs to me now. I will keep it safe for you."
She had not collared my neck. She had collared my soul. And as I came apart in her arms, I knew that while Lihua might believe she owned the dog, it was Mengue, my gentle, loving widow, who truly held the leash.
The memory was a warmth in my chest as the carriage rattled along the dusty road. My other queens also occupied my thoughts. Fengue, my brilliant, broken student, now armed with the world's first Illusion Crystal camera and a mission to build a cultural empire. And Chixi, the warrior queen of Aegis, a double agent whose loyalty was a Schrödinger's cat of quantum uncertainty.
My plans were vast, a web of interconnected industries designed to create a self-perpetuating cycle of wealth and power. Aria's fashion would drive desire. Fantasia's entertainment would shape culture. Aegis would protect our assets. And the Consortium would be the industrial heart, pumping out the iron and concrete that would build our new world. But it was all dependent on Zhao Lihua's mountain, on her resources. It was a flaw in the design. I needed my own source of power, my own river of gold that flowed only from my hands. I was about to invent banking.
'Ah, fractional-reserve lending,' the Author's voice chimed in, sounding like a proud, sarcastic father. 'The most elegant and destructive magical art form ever conceived. Why bother with fireballs when you can conjure wealth from thin air and bury your enemies under a mountain of debt? Our boy is graduating from mere villainy to full-blown economic terrorism. They grow up so fast.'
My arrival at the Lu Clan was as underwhelming as I had anticipated. The guards at the gate, fat and lazy, barely recognized me. My transformation from a bloated pig to a lean, hard-bodied man was so profound that they stared at me with a dumb, bovine confusion until I produced the young master's token.
The clan itself was a picture of stagnation. The same dusty courtyards, the same listless servants, the same oppressive atmosphere of a minor power slowly decaying from the inside out. It was a perfect petri dish for a revolution.
I found my "father", Lu Tao, in the main hall, pacing like a caged beast. He looked older, more careworn. The border disputes were clearly taking their toll.
"You're back," he grunted, his eyes raking over my new form with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. "You look… different. Healthier. Good. We have problems. The Zhang and Wei clans are testing our borders, raiding our caravans. They cite your killing of that Rising Sun Sect brat as an act of reckless provocation that has destabilized the region. They demand compensation. Land. Spirit stones."
"And what has been your response?" I asked, my tone calm and analytical.
"I have reinforced the patrols! I have challenged their patriarchs to duels! They refuse, the cowards! They prefer to bleed us with a thousand small cuts!" he roared, his face purpling with impotent rage.
"So, your response to a strategic economic assault has been to double down on a failing military doctrine and issue empty, prideful challenges," I summarized, my voice dripping with the condescending patience of a teacher addressing a particularly slow student. "A truly brilliant strategy, Father. I can see why it's working so well."
He sputtered, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. "You dare speak to me with such insolence!"
"I dare to speak the truth," I said, my voice hardening. "You are fighting a war of attrition against two clans who are richer than you, and you are losing. You cannot solve this problem with your sword, Lu Tao. You can only solve it with gold."
"And where do you propose I get this gold?" he sneered. "From your new friends in Ironwood City? Will your whore's mother lend us her fortune?"
I let the insult slide. It was the impotent jab of a powerless man. "No," I said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my face. "I am going to make it. Here. Out of thin air."
I explained the basic concept, simplified for his primitive understanding. The creation of a bank, a secure place for clansmen and local merchants to store their wealth. The issuance of 'bank notes'—paper promises that were as good as gold, but far more convenient. And the most crucial, magical part: lending out a portion of the deposited gold to others, for a small fee, an 'interest', creating a cycle of profit where wealth was generated from wealth itself.
He stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head. "You want to take other people's money, and then… give it to someone else? That is theft! And what is this 'paper promise'? It is worthless!"
"It is not worthless if the people believe it has worth," I explained patiently. "And they will believe, because it will be backed by the full faith and credit of the Lu Clan. And more importantly, it will be backed by me."
I needed a man to run this bank, a man of numbers and quiet ambition. I already had someone in mind. "Summon the clan's chief accountant," I commanded. "A man named Lu Chen, I believe. I wish to review the clan's finances."
Lu Tao, bewildered and outmaneuvered, could only obey.
Lu Chen was a man in his late forties, thin, bespectacled, and utterly forgettable. He was the kind of man who had spent his entire life hunched over ledgers, his talent for numbers completely overlooked in a world that valued sword arms above all else. He entered the hall, his back bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor, the very picture of a downtrodden clerk. He was perfect.
"Master Lu Chen," I began, my voice warm and respectful, a stark contrast to the way he was usually treated. "I have a proposition for you. A chance to move from the back room to the very heart of this clan's future."
I spent the next hour laying out my vision for the Golden River Bank. Lu Chen listened, his initial fear and confusion slowly being replaced by a dawning, electrifying excitement. He understood. His mind, so attuned to the flow of numbers, grasped the elegant, brutal genius of fractional-reserve lending immediately. He saw the power in it, the endless potential for growth.
"It is… revolutionary," he breathed, pushing his spectacles up his nose, his eyes shining with an intellectual fire I hadn't seen in anyone but myself. "The potential for capital generation is… infinite."
"I need a man to run it," I said, leaning forward. "A man I can trust. A man who is tired of being overlooked. I am offering you the position of President of the Golden River Bank. You will be one of the most powerful men in this province. What say you, Lu Chen?"
Tears welled in the old accountant's eyes. He fell to his knees, not in submission, but in overwhelming gratitude. "Young Master," he choked out. "I… I will not fail you."
I had found my first male ally. A loyal, brilliant man who would now be utterly devoted to me, not out of fear, but because I was the only one who had ever recognized his true worth.
With my new financial weapon in the planning stages, it was time to face my other master.
I found Lu Ren in her private courtyard, practicing her sword forms. She moved with a deadly, elegant grace, her blade a blur of silver in the afternoon sun. She was a vision of controlled power. As I entered, she finished her form with a final, vicious slash that cut a leaf in two as it fell from a tree. She sheathed her sword and turned to face me, a cold, unreadable smile on her face.
"My dog returns," she said, her voice a soft purr. "Did you enjoy your time off the leash?"
"The world is a fascinating place, Mistress," I replied with a bow. "But a loyal dog always returns to its master's call."
"Indeed," she said, walking towards me. She circled me, her eyes raking over me, assessing. "You have changed. You carry yourself differently. You have the scent of another powerful woman on you. A she-wolf. You have been playing in another kennel."
Her perception was unnervingly sharp. "I have forged a necessary business alliance," I said carefully.
"Have you?" she said, stopping in front of me. "Or have you simply found a new boot to lick?"
Her hand shot out, not to strike me, but to press a single finger against my forehead. The slave seal flared to life. A white-hot agony erupted in my soul, a pain so profound it stole the air from my lungs and sent me crashing to my knees, a scream tearing from my throat. It was a raw, brutal reminder of who was in charge, a physical manifestation of her ownership.
She let the pain sear through me for a long, agonizing moment before releasing it. I was left gasping on the ground, my body trembling, cold sweat beading on my brow.
"Do not forget who owns you, Lu Bing," she whispered, kneeling down in front of me, her beautiful face a mask of cold, triumphant authority. "The she-wolf in the north may find you amusing. But I am the one who can turn your brain to fire with a thought. You are my property."
She reached out and gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet hers. "You have been a wayward pet. You require… re-training. Tonight, you will return to my chambers. You will remind yourself of the singular, absolute nature of your devotion. You will be cleansed of the scent of your new pack."
I looked into her eyes, and through the haze of my own pain, I saw not just a desire for control, but a deep, gnawing insecurity. She was afraid. Afraid of this new, powerful woman in my life. Afraid of losing her most interesting toy. Her cruelty was a shield for her fear. And that gave me an opening.
"Yes, Mistress," I choked out, my voice a broken rasp. But as I said the words, my mind was racing. The game with Lihua had taught me a new form of warfare. Lu Ren thought she was about to reassert her absolute dominance. She had no idea that tonight, the dog was going to teach its master a few new, very painful tricks. She wanted to play with my soul. But I was about to start playing with hers.