The air in the designated "ritual chamber" – a seldom-used storage room I'd commandeered, its corners thick with old cobwebs that swayed like ghostly curtains in the faint drafts – hung thick and heavy with the cloying scent of dried herbs I'd had someone burn earlier. The pungent aroma, meant to suggest arcane preparations, mingled with the underlying mustiness of disuse.
It was all part of the intended ambiance, of course.
A way of… setting the stage.
Dominating the dusty wooden floor, illuminated by a single, sputtering oil lamp that cast more shadows than light, was the "formation."
It was a sprawling, intricate mess of chalk lines, concentric circles that wobbled slightly where my hand had slipped on the uneven wooden planks of the floor, and what I hoped looked like indecipherable (but profound) arcane symbols – which I had pilfered from a dozen different, half-remembered sources. The overall impression of complex, esoteric power was – I thought – rather effective, especially to the uninitiated.
Lin Ruolan stood rigidly in the center of that impromptu modern art installation, her usually immaculate hair, the color of polished ebony, slightly disheveled, a few stray strands clinging to her damp forehead. Her bare back and torso – slightly moist, pale skin looking luminous and vulnerable in the dim, flickering light – were a canvas of meticulously placed acupuncture needles.
The little points gleamed like tiny silver thorns, each one inserted by me with a meticulous precision of a true expert.
In her cupped hands, she held a small, unadorned wooden box containing the remnants of the recently consumed "Spirit Harmonizing Pills" – which were, in reality, carefully rolled balls of common flour and water, drenched in herbs and spices, then dried to a convincingly "medicinal" hardness.
Her posture was a testament to a servant's unwavering obedience, a discipline ingrained through years of service… yet the slight, almost imperceptible tremor in her shoulders and the way her gaze steadfastly avoided direct eye contact with me, fixing instead on a crack in the floorboards, spoke volumes of her profound discomfort.
"Master,"
-- her voice was a low murmur, barely audible, tinged with an undeniable skepticism that even her disciplined training couldn't entirely mask, --
"will this… ritual… truly help me advance my cultivation? It feels rather... unorthodox. And a little… exposed."
I allowed a moment of silence to hang in the air, a silence thick with unspoken questions and the scent of burnt herbs, cultivating an aura of profound wisdom I was far from possessing.
Unorthodox is the name of the game, my dear Ruolan, I thought, an internal smirk playing on my mental lips. All of this is for show, of course. All to build expectation, to prime the mind for wonders… and, with the System, a mere expectation may be enough!
The idea had taken root after yesterday's conversation with Big Sis Yue, a remark she made that had blossomed into a full-blown strategic consideration. Big Sis was right: the townsfolk were indeed starting to whisper – wondering if the Young Master Jiang might be able to teach others just as he had with Shadow…
Which begged the question.
Could I?
Could the System extend its effects beyond the bounds of my own person?
Could it enhance my servants?
And crucially, the billion-spirit-stone question: would the System even recognize other people as "my property," in a way that was enough for the process to work?
The System, I knew from yesterday's reports, did indeed work that way on my businesses – but the exact extent of the concept of "ownership" in the System's lexicon was still uncertain.
It was time to do some testing!
But, how to go about doing so? Manifesting more Xue Qi "geniuses" like Shadow was definitively out of the question for now. That would lead to too much heat, too many awkward inquiries, too much potential for the kind of attention from powerful entities that I – at least at present – wanted to avoid.
But what about enhancing Ling Qi instead?
A subtle, plausibly-deniable boost to a highly-ranked loyal retainer's spiritual cultivation?
That was a different beast altogether.
Potentially manageable.
Possibly even attributable to conventional, if rare, methods.
Ruolan, a trusted member of my mother's staff assigned to my courtyard, known for her diligence and respectable existing cultivation base, was the perfect test subject. A breakthrough of a couple of minor realms for someone of her standing might raise an eyebrow or two from those few who were intimately familiar with her progress – but to the wider world, it should not seem too strange.
Less of an outright miracle and more the case of a skilled family servant being rewarded with greater cultivation aids.
Progress attributable to my generosity with some rare spiritual resource I'd bestowed.
"Patience, Ruolan," I said, my voice calm and measured, projecting a confidence I didn't entirely feel.
"The unconventional routes I know of are a pathway to many abilities – some considered to be unnatural… This is an experimental technique I've been developing, one that draws upon ancient principles not widely understood today, designed for the possibility of rapid cultivation advancement. The needles are there to help open your meridians, making them more receptive. The formation is to focus and amplify ambient spiritual energy, and these pills..." I gestured to the box in her hands, "...they helped prepare your very essence, your dantian and spiritual channels, for the influx of purified energy."
Ah, the classic placebo effect, I mused internally, savoring the irony. The cornerstone of any good charlatan's repertoire, a testament to the power of suggestion. If the current Young Master gig doesn't work out, perhaps I yet have a future as a travelling snake oil salesman?
I produced a small, intricately carved wooden talisman – a two-way communication device, its surface etched with delicate, almost invisible lines that pulsed with a faint internal light.
"I will attempt to activate the formation's energies remotely from another location," I explained, handing it to her. "Keep this talisman with you. You are to inform me immediately if you feel any change, any sensation, however slight. Warmth. Tingling. Shifts in perception. Any of these may mean the method is working."
Ruolan accepted the talisman with a respectful bow of her head, her expression still carefully neutral.
"Yes, Master. I understand."
With a final, encouraging nod that – I hoped – conveyed more certainty than I possessed, I turned and left the room, my footsteps echoing softly on the worn wooden floorboards as I made my way towards the secure, subterranean confines of the basement.
The air in the basement was noticeably cooler, carrying the faint, metallic tang of old iron, the damp, earthy smell of undisturbed stone, and a faint, lingering scent of dried blood. My boots crunched softly on the uneven flagstones as I descended the narrow, winding steps, the torchlight throwing my elongated shadow before me.
Feng was there, as expected, in the small, relatively dry chamber I'd assigned him.
He wasn't idle.
As I entered the main chamber, the single torch flickering fitfully in a rusted wall sconce, casting long, dancing, and somewhat menacing shadows that writhed across the rough-hewn walls… I saw him.
Feng was meticulously, almost reverently, practicing a simple horse stance. His new pair of legs – fully regenerated now, albeit still a little pale and unused-looking – were planted firmly on the stone floor. A look of profound concentration, mixed with a disbelief that hadn't quite faded from his eyes, was etched onto his weathered, scarred face.
He straightened as I approached, his movements still a touch stiff, betraying the newness of his limbs, but imbued with an immense, newfound dignity that had been absent a mere two days ago.
"Master," his voice was thick with an emotion that made it raspy, the sound catching in his throat, "they are truly whole. I... I never thought..." He gestured down at his legs, his eyes shining with unshed tears that traced clean paths through the grime on his cheeks. "…This was a mercy I never expected." He trailed off, visibly overwhelmed by a gratitude so profound it seemed to shake his entire frame, and made to kneel on his newly restored legs.
"Stay standing, Feng," I said, my tone neutral, though a flicker of something akin to satisfaction passed through me.
Internally, I nodded.
Regenerating body parts isn't unheard of in this world; any decent Grade 3 Alchemist with the right ingredients can manage it. The pills themselves aren't even particularly expensive compared to, say, high-grade Qi Gathering Pills let alone spiritual artifacts. For Feng here, the surprise wasn't the rarity of the cure, but the fact it was given at all – by me, his captor.
"'The Stump' no longer suits you," I declared, a faint smile touching my lips. "'Feng the Restored' seems more fitting… don't you think?"
A flicker of something – surprise at the unexpected address, then a deeper, more profound gratitude – crossed his face, briefly illuminating his grim features.
"Thank you, Master. It is… an honor."
Visibly embedded in the center of his chest, a stark, almost brutal contrast against his skin, was a newly-installed talisman: a spirit jade failsafe of my own design. It was a small, intricately inscribed tablet of dark green jade, cool to the touch, that seemed to hum with a barely perceptible, contained energy.
The talisman isn't just about safety, though that is its primary function, I mused internally, my gaze lingering on it for a moment, a silent, ever-present threat.
This jade is a constant, silent reminder of the new order of things, a guarantee against any lingering resentment or future betrayal. A very effective leash, designed to render Feng safe when supervised by those weaker than him – including mere unenhanced mortals. In fact, even a child who knows the right hand-seals could trigger the talisman at will – causing great pain, paralyzing, or even killing the subject outright… should the need arise.
Feng, sensing my gaze, touched a hand to his chest almost unconsciously, a fleeting shadow of his old fear in his eyes, before it was quickly replaced by a renewed, earnest commitment. His earlier fear, the terror of a helpless captive, was now heavily tinged with this unexpected, profound gratitude.
Oh, the joys of Stockholm Syndrome.
"My life is yours, Master. I will serve in any way you command."
"Yes, of course you will," I nodded nonchalantly, "I would have to motivate or kill you otherwise… but, enough pleasantries."
It was time to get straight to the point.
"I need your close and undivided attention for a minute, Feng. Listen carefully. I have a loyal and dedicated servant by the name of Lin Ruolan. She is a diligent cultivator who is currently at the Peak of the Qi Gathering stage."
Feng nodded, his expression earnest, his eyes fixed on mine with unwavering intensity.
"Yes, Master. If you say it is so, then it is so."
I closed my eyes, focusing on any feedback from the System.
[Qualified Belief Detected]
[Belief Source: Feng the Restored (Early Foundation Establishment); BQT 6 Met!]
[Analyzing Belief: Subject 'Lin Ruolan' is at the Peak of Qi Gathering.]
The familiar mental chime, crisp and clear, sounded in my mind.
[Threshold Met! Manifestation Initiated!]
Here we go… this should be it!
[SYSTEM ERROR: Subject 'Lin Ruolan' does not belong to User 'Jiang Li'. Manifestation ABORTED.]
My eyes snapped open.
A surge of disappointment, sharp and cold, washed through me, extinguishing the brief flicker of optimism.
Damn it!
I raised the communication talisman, schooling my features into an expression of calm neutrality, keeping any hint of frustration from my voice.
"Ruolan," I said, my voice even, "it appears the preliminary energetic alignments were not optimal. The experiment has failed for now. You may remove the needles and get dressed. Thank you for your patience and participation."
There was a brief pause, then her voice, clear but audibly disappointed, came through the talisman.
"As you command, Master. I understand. Perhaps my aptitude is… insufficient for this technique."
I ended the connection, lost in thought.
Doesn't 'belong' to me? What does that mean?
My mind raced, sifting through possibilities.
The System doesn't seem the type to get sentimental or concerned with the ethics of owning people. So, it's probably not about some progressive stance on human ownership. Then… it's about definitions?
Lines of authority?
Technically, Ruolan is my mother's servant – assigned to my courtyard, yes, but her primary contract, her foundational oath of service, still resides with Mother. She hasn't sworn a direct, personal oath of fealty to me. Not yet. Nor would she be able to – until my Mother released her, that is. Could it be that the System knows this and, in its logic, Ruolan still "belongs" to my Mother?
Or… is being a mere paid servant insufficient to trigger the System? Would my subject need to be… a slave in the truer sense for this to work?
There were ways to test these hypotheses… but they would have to wait. Ruolan would have to be released by my Mother before I could try "the ritual" with her again -- and I wasn't about to try empowering the ordinary servants, especially not the morally questionable likes of Jin Bao.
As for cultivators -- the only candidate who was both already a cultivator and, arguably, also my "slave," was Feng the Restored himself… I doubted his belief could be used to enhance his own cultivation – that concept would be like trying to fly by pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. But, even assuming I could empower him through conversations with City Lord Wei or Big Sis, implanted talisman failsafe or no, I just didn't believe making him stronger was a great idea.
So, the idea of enhancing my servants through the System would be shelved.
For now.
The early afternoon sun beat down upon us with an insistent, oppressive warmth, a typical summer's day in the foothills surrounding Qingshan Town.
The air, well-saturated with the moisture and smells of the nearby wetlands, felt like a wet, slimy soup on our skin.
Beneath our feet, the muddy dirt road – if one could even dignify this rutted, stone-strewn track, more suited to goats than civilized travel, with such a term – was uneven, a treacherous tapestry of loose scree and moist clay.
The path caused City Lord Zhang Wei to occasionally stumble, his somewhat portly frame jiggling despite his not inconsiderable Foundation Establishment cultivation. Alas, my new friend was a man more accustomed to the cushioned seats of his yamen and outright flight than to "slumming it" on such rustic, ankle-twisting hikes. His brocaded robes, a rich sapphire blue embroidered with silver clouds that shimmered with every movement, were already showing faint, embarrassing dustings of ochre along the hem.
Lin Ruolan – my favorite loyal attendant – walked a respectful half-step behind me, her movements as economical and graceful as ever. She took her job very seriously too: her gaze, dark and observant, missed nothing, cataloging the terrain, the angle of the sun, the subtle shifts in the wind. Her simple, practical attire of a senior household servant, a muted grey that allowed her to blend into the background, was a stark contrast to the City Lord's finery, yet she moved with an innate dignity that far surpassed his somewhat flustered efforts.
Big Sis Yue, on my other side, seemed entirely in her element. She moved with the coiled, predatory readiness of a panther – her hand never far from the black spear strapped to her back, its palpable aura of a dangerous mid-grade artifact seeming to drain the very light out of its surroundings. Her eyes, sharp and assessing as a hawk's, scanned our surroundings for possible threats – taking in the shadowed gullies, the dense thickets where unseen things might lurk, the rocky outcrops that could conceal an ambush – a habit, no doubt, ingrained from her years spent navigating the perilous, beast-infested landscapes of the Frontier with only her Spear artifact for company.
...And she was grinning from ear to ear, apparently happy to embark upon a new adventure, however boring and underwhelming it may have seemed thus far
City Lord Zhang Wei puffed slightly as he navigated a particularly uneven patch of ground, his round face flushed a rather alarming shade of puce.
"...and so, Young Master Jiang," he continued his earlier speech, his voice a curious blend of genuine, almost paternal friendliness and a politician's ingrained, professional skepticism,
"...while I wholeheartedly applaud your ambition, your commendable desire to invest in the future prosperity of our humble Qingshan Town, I must confess, this particular venture… it perplexes me, truly it does. The fees you so readily paid for this tract of utterly barren land, a heavens-forsaken patch of rocks and weeds by any sensible measure, not to mention the additional, frankly exorbitant sum for the mining rights… well!"
He chuckled, a wheezing, slightly breathless sound that ended in a cough, and he paused to mop his brow with a fine silk handkerchief.
"My friend, don't take this the wrong way, but… there is a reason why Qingshan is a poor town. Many a mineral prospector worth their salt -- and a good many outright charlatans besides -- have scoured these very foothills for generations! They've dug. They've divined with their amusing little copper rods. They've even employed those peculiar, six-legged earth-dowsing insects from the Southern Wastes – the ones the savage tribes have trained, that supposedly sniff out hidden lodes deep in the earth!"
He paused for emphasis.
"And what did they find? The consensus, sadly, has always been the same: there's nothing here! Not even a decent lode of common bog iron, let alone anything of spiritual value that might enrich our coffers."
He paused again, taking a deeper breath, the scent of his expensive floral perfume momentarily overpowering the earthy aromas of the hillside.
"And you understand, my friend," he pressed on, his tone becoming a shade more formal, the politician reasserting himself, "as the humble City Lord of Qingshan, my authority, alas, only extends to granting development rights for mundane, non-spiritual ores and metals. Should any spirit ores, by some unforeseen miracle, be discovered in this desolate stretch – not that I would hold out any great hope for that, mind you – the matter of development would, by Imperial decree, have to go through the Regional Governor's office in Yuhang City for approval. Now,"
-- he waved a placating hand, --
"given your esteemed family's rising influence, I don't foresee any insurmountable trouble in securing a prospecting contract should the need arise. But frankly, I simply don't believe there's anything out here worth the parchment it would be written on, let alone the considerable effort and expense… of..."
His voice trailed off.
His eyes, which had been politely fixed on me, widened, his jaw slackening.
He had stopped mid-stride, his embroidered slipper teetering on the edge of a loose rock.
Even Big Sis Yue, usually so attuned to her surroundings, followed his gaze, a flicker of surprise in her normally impassive eyes.
Ruolan, too, paused, her head tilting slightly.
We had just rounded a dense thicket of thorny scrub and gnarled, wind-twisted Mistwillow trees. And there, nestled against the flank of an otherwise unremarkable hillside… was a building.
But "building" felt like an insultingly pedestrian term.
This was a structure of breathtaking, unexpected majesty.
Its facade was crafted from what appeared to be pristine white marble, so polished it seemed to glow with an inner luminescence, catching the harsh sunlight and scattering it in dazzling, almost blinding, refractions.
It wasn't ornate in the traditional sense – there were no gaudy carvings of dragons or phoenixes, no ostentatious flourishes.
Instead, its beauty lay in its clean, powerful Greco-Roman-inspired lines, in its perfect symmetry, and in the sheer, audacious scale of the construction. The massive structure rose several stories high, its thick marble columns standing tall and proud… and it seemed to merge seamlessly with the hillside, as if a giant had carved a palace directly into the living rock.
Though manifested by the System overnight, this was no hastily erected shack. This was architecture as a statement of power and artistry.
And why, I thought with an internal smirk, couldn't even industrial buildings look amazing?
City Lord Zhang's mouth opened and closed a few times, like a beached carp.
"By the… by the sacred ancestors!" he finally managed, his voice a hoarse whisper. "When… when did that get here? This land was barren dirt and scrub not a week past! To erect such a… and so quickly… the resources… the manpower…"
He looked from the gleaming white edifice to me, his face a comical mask of disbelief, awe, and dawning suspicion.
I allowed a small, enigmatic smile to play on my lips.
"My friend," I said, my voice calm and level, "you -- as they say -- ain't seen nothing yet!"
I gestured towards the massive, intricately carved doors of the marble structure.
"Shall we?"
...
We entered.
And saw that the interior was even more astonishing.
If the exterior hinted at palatial grandeur, the inside screamed of impossible, futuristic industry – yet all rendered with an artist's eye for aesthetics. We stepped into a vast, cavernous space, the air pleasantly cool, carrying the faint, clean scent of ozone and something else – something metallic and new.
The chamber was dug deep into the hillside, extending back farfurther than the exterior suggested, the distant walls lost in carefully managed shadows. High above us, the ceiling arched, supported by massive pillars of the same white marble, each one subtly fluted to allow for cable or scaffolding connections.
Light, bright and clear as a summer noon, emanated from glowing spirit-stone-powered panels set into the ceiling, bathing the entire space in an even, pleasant illumination. What I manifested here was, in essence, an industrial warehouse – but one unlike anything this world had ever seen (or, likely, even conceived of).
The floor was a seamless expanse of polished grey stone, so clean one could have eaten from it.
And all around us, arranged with meticulous order, were all manner of machinery and devices that defied easy description in this world.
For instance, there were what looked like squat, powerful carts with articulated lifting arms (spirit stone-powered forklifts, of course!).
There were intricate pulley systems with massive cranes, their hooks gleaming, hung suspended from reinforced beams.
And long, segmented tracks – inactive conveyor belts – snaked across the floor, some disappearing into darkened tunnels leading to unknown adjacent rooms, or to mysterious destinations located deeper in the earth.
Dominating one wall were huge, circular openings – colossal ventilation shafts – from which a gentle, cool breeze emanated, driven by spirit stone-powered fans whose blades whirred with a barely audible hum, keeping the air fresh and constantly circulating.
It was a symphony of near-silent, waiting machinery, a testament to a level of engineering that was simply alien to this continent and era.
Perhaps, even to this world.
And, at the very center of this vast chamber, a focal point of undeniable power and presence… stood the elevator.
Of course, it wasn't an elevator in any sense my companions would have understood. Rather, it was a colossal platform of gleaming, reddish-hued metal, its surface smooth and seamless, reflecting the light panels above like a burnished copper mirror.
Most everything here would be made of Titanium, I'd decided. It was a "mundane" metal according to the System – and therefore, a substance easily manifested in vast quantities with negligible belief requirements – and yet, its unfamiliar color and flawless finish likely gave it the appearance of some incredibly rare and expensive spirit alloy.
I briefly wondered how its high melting point, corrosive resistance, and durability would stack up to some of the true "spiritual" materials in this world.
The elevator platform was a perfect square easily the size of two lianqiu chang – ancient fields used for military drills – laid side by side.
It was more than large enough to transport siege engines.
Or a small army.
A small army of siege engines, even!
City Lord Zhang simply stared, his earlier incredulity now dwarfed by a profound, fearful awe. His gaze darted from the silent forkliftsto the motionless cranes, to the colossal elevator platform, his mind clearly struggling -- and noticeably failing -- to categorize. To comprehend what he was looking at.
Yue's hand had tightened upon her spear, not in aggression, but in a kind of wary respect for her surroundings. Her eyes, narrowed and intense, were taking in every detail.
Analyzing.
Assessing.
Even Ruolan's composure had cracked: her lips were parted, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to absorb the sheer impossibility of what she was seeing.
The quality of the craftsmanship, the precision of the construction, the sheer, audacious scale of everything – it was probably overwhelming to them.
Just as I'd hoped it would be.
"Remarkable," Zhang Wei breathed, his voice hushed. "the artisans who wrought all this… they must have been masters beyond imagining. Such designs! Such… ingenuity! What wonders are these machines capable of?"
I chuckled softly.
"No, no, my friend! All of this is merely the foyer, the… entrance hall, if you will. This isn't what I truly wanted to show you." I gestured towards the massive titanium platform.
"Come! The real marvels lie… below."
They reluctantly followed me onto the elevator, their footsteps echoing strangely on the metallic surface.
I walked to a discreet control panel set into a low, marble plinth near the edge of the platform. A complex array of symbols glowed faintly on its surface. I went through a short sequence of hand seals – to appropriately direct the security formations – and pressed my palm against a specific glyph.
The symbols on the panel flared with a bright, green light.
Then, I pressed a button with the prominently-displayed downward arrow.
With a barely perceptible hum – a deep, resonant thrumthat vibrated up through the soles of our feet – the massive platform began to descend.
And it wasn't a gentle descent!
It was rapid: a swift, stomach-lurching drop, not unlike something one might experience on a particularly daring roller coaster ride.
A loud, rather undignified yelp escaped Lin Ruolan's lips, and she instinctively grabbed onto my arm, her fingers feeling surprisingly strong, even against my Diamond Body.
City Lord Zhang, too, let out a strangled gasp, his face paling to a sickly green, his hands flailing for a moment before he steadied himself against one of the subtle safety railings that had shimmered into visibility around the platform's edge.
Even Yue looked uncomfortable. Her stance widened, her knees bent slightly as if bracing for impact, and her grip on her spear shaft tightened until her knuckles were white.
Only I remained unperturbed, a faint, amused smile playing on my lips.
"It's a bit of a drop to get down to the good part, so let's relax and enjoy the ride!" I said, my voice calm and reassuring above the rising whoosh of displaced air. "All will be revealed soon!"
We continued to plunge downwards, faster and faster.
The light from the warehouse above dwindled rapidly, replaced by an inky darkness. The only illumination now came from the glowing control panel and the faint, ethereal light of the shimmering safety railings.
The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and something else – something ancient and… mineral.
The silence, broken only by the rush of our descent and the occasional nervous gulp from the City Lord, was profound.
Down, down, and down we went.
In a blink of an eye, we'd traveled nearly nine li – about three miles – straight into the bowels of the earth. And, just as the darkness began to feel oppressive, a new light bloomed below us – faint at first, then rapidly intensifying.
With a final, almost gentle sigh, the elevator shaft opened up.
And, just like that, the darkness was banished – replaced by a spectacle of such breathtaking, otherworldly beauty that it stole the breath from my companions' lungs.
We had emerged… into a cavern.
But "cavern" was an insult to its sheer, mind-boggling immensity.
No, it was no mere cave, but an entire subterranean world, a vast Cathedral sculpted by… well, the System, with a bit of help from ol' Feng and my imagination.
The roof soared so high above us that it was soon lost in a shimmering, multi-hued mist.
Giant columns – the fusion of colossal stalactites and stalagmites that would have taken countless millennia to form naturally – rose like the pillars of some forgotten god-king's palace, each one pulsing with a soft, internal luminescence.
The cavern stretched away in all directions, its far reaches fading into a luminous haze. Even with our superhuman sight, we could not see its end. It was obvious that this subterranean wonderland extended beneath the entirety of Qingshan Town, and – very likely – a good deal beyond it as well, a secret world beneath the world, hidden just beneath the residents' unsuspecting feet. And, what a breathtaking world it was!
Everything glowed!
The very air seemed to thrum with a gentle, yet pervasive, spiritual power.
Clusters of what were clearly spirit stone deposits -- with visible surface-level specimens ranging in size from a child's fist to a grown man's torso -- studded the walls and ceiling like miniature stars, emitting soft, pulsating light in shades of ethereal blue, deep indigo, and regal purple.
Here and there, veins of emerald green, rose pink, and diamond white light also pulsed within the rock, hinting at even richer – or more interesting – deposits.
Veins of what looked like spirit jade, attuned to various elemental affinities, snaked through the cavern walls like frozen lightning – some were of a fiery crimson, others a deep oceanic blue, yet others the vibrant green of new spring leaves.
In places, pools of water, so clear they were almost invisible save for the light they captured and refracted, had carved out basins within the jade itself, each pool glowing with its own distinct, elemental hue. Azure. Vermilion. Gold.
And everywhere -- clinging to the walls, sprouting from ledges, and carpeting sections of the cavern floor -- were spirit fungi of every imaginable shape, color, and type, their caps and stems glowing with vibrant, psychedelic light – electric blues, fiery oranges, phosphorescent greens. Their unique fragrance, signifying an unknown -- but undeniable -- alchemical potential, was palpable in the air.
A collective, ragged gasp went around the platform.
Zhang Wei was clutching his chest, his eyes bulging, his mouth agape.
Ruolan's hand was still gripping my arm, but her earlier fear was forgotten, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated wonder.
Yue's spear was, for once, forgotten as well: she stood transfixed, her head tilted back, her explorer's eyes, wide with a child-like awe, taking in the sights. I could tell she lived for experiences like this one.
"By the… by the merciful heavens…" Zhang Wei finally choked out, his voice trembling. "How… is this possible? Such a place… beneath Qingshan? All this time…?"
"The spiritual Qi here," Yue murmured, her voice filled with a rare reverence, "it's… different. So much healthier, more… compatible than what I've experienced even in the richest spirit regions on the Frontier. It feels… good."
"The sheer wealth…" Zhang Wei whispered, his eyes darting from one glowing spirit stone cluster to another, his mind, no doubt, already performing frantic calculations. "Even if all of these spirit stones are only low-grade, and even after the Emperor's taxes and the Governor's… considerations… the prosperity this would bring to Qingshan… We would surely become a major cultivation hub – perhaps even bigger than Yuhang City itself -- inside a decade!"
I smiled serenely.
"Indeed, my friend. And I have seen what I am quite certain are at least mid-grade deposits deeper within this cavern system."
I smirked at the familiar chimes in my mind, signifying my companions' belief -- and corresponding manifestation -- of said mid-grade deposits as I spoke.
"But, my friends," I added, my voice resonating slightly in the vast space, "you still haven't seen anything yet!"
As the elevator finally glided to a silent halt on the cavern floor, I launched into the performance I had mentally rehearsed.
"This place," I announced, gesturing expansively, "is – as far as I have been able to determine – the long-lost abode of a powerful cultivator faction from the Ancient Era. It was sealed away by potent concealing formations, illusions woven with such mastery that they rendered this entire subterranean world invisible and undetectable to all conventional methods of prospecting. That is why it remained hidden for so long, despite Qingshan Town existing for over a thousand years above it."
"These formations," I continued, "could only be disengaged – or so the fragmented records I uncovered suggest – by someone possessing a rather… special spiritual constitution, a certain resonance with the ancient energies woven into the wards."
I paused for dramatic effect, letting their minds grapple with the implications.
"As fate would have it," I gave a modest, almost self-deprecating shrug, "I happen to possess just such a constitution. The primary concealing formations have been… persuaded to deactivate, and the lesser security wards are now under my sole and complete control," I finished, a subtle note of pride in my voice.
I led them off the platform, down a naturally formed pathway that seemed to have been intentionally widened and smoothed. They followed me, still marveling at the sights, their heads constantly turning, trying to take in the sheer, overwhelming scale and beauty of the place.
After a short walk, we reached what appeared to be a solid wall of rock, indistinguishable from the rest of the cavern.
"Now," I said, pulling out a small, jade pill bottle from my sleeve. Inside were pills the color of frosted moonlight.
"We are about to go into one of the likely many special, elementally-aligned areas. You must take care. The air beyond this point will be saturated with immensely concentrated Frost Qi."
I paused for dramatic emphasis.
"And when I say concentrated, I mean 'potent enough to flash-freeze even a Foundation Establishment cultivator in mere moments.' But, worry not! After all, what I now hold in my hands are the legendary 'Nine Yin Hoarfrost Resilience Pills'," I intoned with due gravitas.
"They are a little something I... whipped up... just for this occasion. A rare concoction that will temporarily grant you immunity to the ambient Frost. You will each need to take one. I, of course, have no need for such things, being quite protected already."
They exchanged nervous glances. After all, the idea of an environment that could overwhelm an average Foundation Establishment cultivator was no joke!
But, each of them trusted me implicitly by now.
One by one, my companions took a pill and swallowed it. Almost immediately, a faint, rather attractive frosty luminescence -- like moonlight on fresh snow -- appeared on their skin.
Satisfied that the pills worked, I stepped up to the rock wall and, once again, performed a complex series of hand seals, my fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air. With the final seal, I pressed my palm against the stone.
There was no sound, no tremor, but the "solid" rock before us suddenly shimmered, wavered like a heat haze… and then dissolved as if a mere mirage, revealing an intricately carved passageway beyond.
The entrance was framed by a magnificent carving of coiling frost serpents, their scales rendered in exquisite detail, their eyes inlaid with chips of aquamarine that seemed to glitter with cold light. The walls and ceiling of the passage beyond were adorned with breathtaking murals depicting more frost serpents, these ones feasting upon luminous, ice-blue lotus fruits amidst a landscape of frozen mountains and strange, crystalline trees.
"Remarkable," Yue breathed, tracing a finger along the carving of a serpent's scale. "This artistry style is… unlike any I've ever seen, even in the abandoned ruins down South. And these walls… they look to be made from pure Frost Jade!"
We walked down the passage, the temperature dropping noticeably with every step. The air grew bitingly cold, but the pills were working: my companions felt only a refreshing coolness on their skin.
Lord Zhang felt the need to chime in: "Yes, the walls here are indeed made of frost-attuned Jade, which is admittedly quite potent in attracting the water and frost elements, but surely only this much can't possibly be enough to be a thre—"
His comment died in his throat. We had traversed a sharp bend in the passageway… and emerged upwards into a wonderland of ice and light. We now found ourselves at the entrance to a smaller, perfectly spherical cavern.
But, if the main cavern had been grand, this one was an ethereal jewel box of concentrated power. The walls, the floor, the domed ceiling – everything was composed of natural, unblemished Frost Jade rendered in luminescent shades of Cyan, Azure, and Aquamarine – pure and translucent, glowing from within with an intense blue-green light. The very air crackled with berserk concentrations of Frost Qi so potent that it even shimmered visibly to the naked eye, creating dancing motes of tiny icy lights.
In the exact center of this breathtaking grotto was a large, circular pond. Its mesmerizing aquamarine blue-green contents -- more liquified Qi than mere water at this point -- did not freeze despite the insanely low ambient temperature. Instead, the pond remained liquid while steaming with a cold, white mist.
The pond was vast, easily over a thousand bù (i.e., over 1666.66 meters or 5468 feet) in circumference.
And floating serenely upon its mystical surface, their petals like sculpted ice touched with the faintest blush of lavender, their golden stamens glowing like captured stars… were the lotuses.
Hundreds of them.
So many that they couldn't easily be counted, each one radiating an aura of incredible age and purity.
"Behold. Nine Nether Snow Lotuses," I announced softly, letting the name hang in the frigid, sacred air.
"Oh, and don't mind the guardians," I added casually, as if discussing well-behaved pets. "We are all perfectly safe here as long as the security formations haven't been activated. They may look scary, but are actually quite tame to visitors and will never attack unless provoked. Or directed."
"G-guardians?" City Lord Zhang squeaked, his voice cracking, his eyes darting around nervously. "What guard— AIEEE!"
His question was answered by a sudden, tremendous upheaval in the center of the mist-wreathed pond. The glowing aquamarine water roiled, and then, with a sound like a glacier calving, an absolutely colossal head – easily the size of a small house – breached the surface.
It was a Frost Serpent, its scales a similar iridescent azure as much of the jade cavern, its eyes vast, intelligent orbs of glowing, greenish light. It regarded curiously us, its massive head slowly turning, plumes of frosty mist snorting from its nostrils.
Big Sis Yue reacted instantly, a blur of motion.
She suddenly appeared in front of Ruolan and Lord Zhang, her spear practically materializing in her hand, its tip already glowing with a dangerous, condensed darkness. Her stance was low, powerful, ready to unleash devastating force.
But there was no danger.
The massive Frost Serpent simply examined our small group with a calm, curious intelligence for a long, silent moment… and then, with a slow, deliberate movement that barely disturbed the mystical lotuses floating around it, it sank back down into the Frost-Qi-rich depths, once again disappearing beneath the swirling mist.
Yue slowly relaxed her stance, though her eyes remained fixed on the spot where the serpent had vanished.
"That beast," she said, her voice tight with residual tension, "its aura felt like it was in the Foundation Establishment realm, though it was hard to tell at what stage."
The unspoken implications were clear.
In this world, those beasts who have felt and adopted to metabolizing Qi were known as spirit beasts. And, as a rule, those spirit beasts capable of cultivating beyond the initial stages of Qi Gathering are known to be far stronger individually than cultivators of the same realm. To bring down even one such creature that made it past Foundation Establishment... would require a full hunting team of Foundation Establishment experts. Yue was not-so-subtly implying that we would be no match for it should that Serpent prove hostile.
"Indeed," I confirmed calmly. "And there is more than one of them in this pond. They seem to enjoy the ambient Frost Qi, you see! But, whoever bred them and placed them here ensured they weren't aggressive towards guests. Only those whom the defensive formations mark as intruders need to be worried."
I paused, as if considering.
"…And, of course, they'll defend themselves if attacked unprovoked."
City Lord Zhang looked about ready to have a coronary. His face was ashen, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. His limbs were visibly trembling from the adrenaline.
Big Sis Yue shot me a look that clearly said, We will be having a very long talk about this later, Little Li.
"Oh, chill out, everyone!" I said, my tone light, projecting an aura of complete control and safety. "This is all perfectly safe, I assure you!"
To demonstrate, I casually walked to the edge of the pond, extracting yet another pill bottle from my storage ring – this one containing "treats" I've manifested just for this occasion.
"Xiao Bing!" I called out, using a pet name.
With a gentle ripple, another one of the serpents – a slightly smaller one with pinkish-purple scales – glided back to the surface near me.
It was still enormous, of course, but its demeanor was almost… docile. I held out the treat – a special alchemical pill containing a gratuitously concentrated burst of frosty Qi goodness along with refined sugar – and it delicately took the offering from my hand with its massive, fanged snout… then allowed me to gently pet the smooth, cold scales.
So cute!
My companions stared in wide-eyed wonder, not knowing whether I was brave or insane.
+++
The journey back up the colossal elevator shaft was undertaken in a profound, almost stunned silence. The City Lord, having somewhat recovered from the shock of seeing a Foundation Establishment-level Frost Serpent up close, simply stared blankly ahead, occasionally shaking his head as if to clear it of an impossible dream.
Ruolan was quiet, her gaze thoughtful, frequently darting towards me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher.
Big Sis Yue maintained her composure, but even she seemed to be grappling with the sheer scale of what she had witnessed.
As we finally stepped back into the sun-drenched, mundane reality of the marble staging area above, the contrast was indeed jarring.
Lord Zhang finally found his voice, though it was hoarse and shaky.
"I... I had no idea!" he stammered, looking back towards the elevator platform as if expecting the ground to swallow him whole again.
"Such wonders… right beneath my feet! This whole time! Beneath Qingshan of all places!"
He shook his head again, a dazed expression on his face. Then, a look of something like acceptance settled over him.
"My friend… the special spiritual constitution you mentioned, and the fact that you were the one to find this, to unlock its secrets… it must be fate. Heaven's will! There is no doubt you were destined to uncover this… And…"
He turned to me, his eyes now shining with a new, fervent light.
"My friend," he repeated, his voice regaining some of its customary political smoothness, though still laced with awe, "I will be honored to work together with you to help develop this… this treasure. I will do everything within my power to assist with the official petitions for the spiritual mining rights. Qingshan Town… no, this entire region, will prosper beyond our wildest dreams!"
He paused, a shadow briefly crossing his face, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
"Although," he added, his voice dropping conspiratorially, "many vultures will undoubtedly descend once word of this goes public. As long as you obtain the mining rights officially through the Governor's Office, pay your taxes diligently… ensure the necessary 'administrative fees' are appropriately… disbursed – and, most importantly, remain in the good graces of Her Highness, Princess Xueyue, then nobody short of the Imperial family itself would dare try to muscle in on your rightful claim."
"However," his expression turned genuinely troubled, "if Her Highness, for reasons of state or personal preference, were to become greedy or displeased with you, pushing for someone else to take over… there would be very little, I fear, that a humble City Lord like myself could do to protect your interests in that case, despite our friendship."
I waved a dismissive hand, projecting an air of utter unconcern.
"Your support is appreciated, my friend. We shall navigate those political waters when we come to them."
Internally, however, I couldn't be more pleased.
This whole elaborate charade, I mused, was all constructed for one primary purpose: plausible deniability.
Misdirection.
The discovery of such a vast, untapped resource beneath Qingshan will inevitably trigger a gold rush -- or rather, a spirit stone rush. It will draw in traders, cultivators, adventurers -- and, yes, vultures -- from all corners of the Empire. The town will boom, its population will swell, and commerce will flourish. As the largest landowner and one in control of most of the businesses, my wealth and local influence shall rapidly exceed imagination…
But none of that matters.
All that frenetic activity, all that sudden, inexplicable prosperity focused on the 'enigmatic ancient cavern,' will serve as a magnificent smokescreen, drawing attention away from the trulyimpossible: the System-driven successes and self-refreshing inventory of my own Jiang businesses. Away from the true source of my personal power and towards a plausible explanation for it.
If you give people an obvious, shiny mystery to fixate on, they are far less likely to scrutinize the smaller, quieter – but far more shocking -- anomalies already in their midst. Let them marvel at the 'lost legacy of the ancients.' Let them speculate about the hidden routes and untold riches present many li below ground, and consider the 'fated encounter' that led to their discovery.
Let them fight over the scraps of wealth found here.
Misdirection.
Sleight of hand.
Overwhelming potential enemies with a cascade of information, a dazzling array of possibilities, a thousand-thousand false leads. You wish to suppress me? To uncover the source of my strength? Very well, I shall give you a million obvious secrets to investigate first! Let's see how you can derive the truth then!
Besides, I thought, a predatory smile touching my lips, the more mysterious my origins, the more profound the perceived sources of my 'resources' and 'backing,' the more carefully those who might seek to oppose me will be forced to tread. This whole elaborate theater was designed to keep everyone else off balance, to make them hesitate, to make them fear the figurative and literal depths from which Jiang Li draws his strength.
And, by the time they realize all of this was a mere smoke screen…
What they believe will no longer matter.
The interior of my private flying boat was an oasis of silent, opulent tranquility, a world removed from the wind-whipped clouds we sliced through with the effortless grace of a divine bird. Where the family's main air transports were like grand, sturdy, and somewhat ponderous barges – built primarily for capacity – this… well, this was pure luxury.
I've had the boat "renovated" – through belief farmed from conversations with Big Sis Yue and Feng the Restored – to be even faster, safer, and more luxurious than before.
The exterior walls now featured a silvery finish with liberally-applied imbedded talismans capable of reflecting Mid-Grade level attacks (I could, of course, have made even better defenses with my talisman skills – but, alas, I simply lacked the time to do so for the moment).
The interior was now paneled with a dark, lustrous spirit woods whose grain shimmered with faint, silvery light under the illumination of the enchanted pearls in the ceiling. The seating was upholstered in the supple, charcoal-grey leather of Mid-Foundation-Establishment spirit beasts, pleasantly cool and impossibly smooth to the touch.
The air hummed with a quiet, powerful energy perceptible only to spirit cultivators – a resonant thrum that vibrated deep in one's core.
The vessel operated in a near total silence, the soundless sanctity broken only by the faintest whisper from the core moving formations and the occasional delicate clink of the fine porcelain teacups.
At the helm, out of sight in the cockpit, sat Lian Hua, the serving girl who had the… unfortunate experience in my kitchen after I returned from the Auction. After she decided to stay on the staff, I'd had her re-trained as a pilot. It seemed a better use of her time, with better career prospects – and it freed Ruolan to attend to me here in the main cabin, where she belonged. While Hua was still an apprentice at flight operations, and some of the ship's higher functions (such as the spirit sense interface) were only available to cultivators, keeping the vessel pointed in the right direction was still easy enough, even for a mortal like her – and either Ruolan or myself could step in later for the landing.
Ruolan sat near me, her posture as immaculate as ever, but a subtle vibrancy radiated from her that hadn't been there weeks ago, a hum of contained power that was almost visible in the air around her. The constant supply of top-tier Qi Gathering Pills I had provided had worked wonders: her aura was potent, thrumming like a drawn bowstring on the very cusp of a breakthrough to the Seventh Stage of Qi Gathering. Her skin glowed with health, and her eyes, once merely diligent, now held a new depth to them.
A new confidence.
I was sure that, given a few more days of consolidation, she would be able to cross the threshold.
Across from us, City Lord Zhang Wei was attempting – and failing – to look dignified while being mercilessly teased by Big Sis Yue.
"Honestly, Your Lordship," Yue said, a wicked glint in her dark eyes as she leaned back, the picture of casual grace, her hand resting near the hilt of the black spear that leaned against her seat (said artifact seeming to drink the light, its presence a cold, quiet threat in the warm cabin).
"You look entirely too comfortable for a man on 'vital official business.' One might think you were enjoying a well-deserved vacation, far from the dreary paperwork of your office!"
Her tone was light and flirty, a playful dance of words that seemed customary for their interactions these days.
Zhang Wei puffed up his chest, his round face blushing with a deeper shade of crimson.
"A vacation, Lady Jiang Yue? I'll have you that City Lords don't take vacations. This is a mission of paramount importance to the future prosperity of my city! … Of our city!"
- he corrected hastily, his politician's instincts kicking in.
"I am not merely delivering the taxes personally—a gesture of diligence in itself, I might add, which His Excellency the Governor will surely note. I intend to have a long, detailed discussion with him! I will make the case that, while Qingshan's lands are famously barren, one cannot find what one does not seek. I will argue,"
-- he leaned forward conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low, important rumble –
"that, as Young Master Jiang Li here is the only person in the entire province 'mad enough,' so to speak, to invest staggering sums in further, deep-earth exploration, he, and the Jiang clan, should be granted the exclusive, officially sanctioned prospecting rights for any and all spiritual resources that might be uncovered."
He leaned back with a wide grin on his face.
"I am quite sure that the prospecting permits won't be an issue – not given your family's reputation. And, once you have those permits, they will protect our interests from any outside vultures. With my help, we can legitimize the entire Cavern operation before a single discovery is ever made public! A masterstroke of foresight, if I do say so myself!"
He sat back, looking immensely pleased with his own cunning. It was a solid plan, a clever piece of political maneuvering that laid the legal groundwork for the future. I gave a slight nod of approval… but my gaze was distant, my thoughts already elsewhere, drifting back to a far more pivotal conversation from the day before.
…
A communication talisman had shimmered to life in my hand, its light pulsing softly. Imperial Factor Sun's voice, strained and reedy as ever, had crackled through it, tight with a nervous energy that was almost palpable.
"Young Master Jiang… Her Imperial Highness, Princess Xueyue… has directed me to arrange a private meeting after the formal banquet at the Governor's Mansion, two days from now."
"Excellent," I had replied, my tone deliberately casual, as if discussing the weather.
"…Please inform Her Highness that not only have I secured every item on the list of rare materials we discussed, but I have also – taking a slight liberty – used a portion of them to compound some finished products. Please inform Her Highness that I have concocted, and have in my possession, several batches of potent alchemical pills: some to serve as potential breakthrough catalysts, others specifically designed to calm the mind and prevent cultivation deviation during critical junctures. All of them top-grade pills, of course, practically free of impurities. Oh…"
I'd added, as if it were an afterthought,
and I have also… whipped up… a sample vial of what I call Jiang's Dew – an elixir capable of permanently enhancing a Frost Attributed Foundation Establishment cultivator's spiritual root quality by around one to two percent."
The silence on the other end had been profound, a vacuum of stunned disbelief broken only by a sound like a sputtering, choking gasp.
I could almost picture the old Factor, his confused face red as a tomato, his mind reeling.
An elixir that could permanently improve a cultivator's very aptitude, even by a single percentage point? Such things were treasures that could start wars between minor sects, priceless commodities that could alter the destiny of a clan. Such items were invariably hoarded by aristocratic families, or auctioned for astronomical sums that could buy a small city. Alchemical recipes for such elixirs could not be purchased at all – for any sum of spirit stones.
To speak of "whipping up" something like that was not just audacious.
It was practically sacrilege.
"Young… Young Master…" Sun had finally stammered, his voice trembling.
"Such claims are… extraordinary. One must not… make light of such matters…"
He didn't dare finish the sentence of course. He didn't dare openly accuse me of lying. The penalty for making a false accusation in a transaction involving royalty was undoubtedly a severe one – if possibly not as severe as the penalty for attempted fraud upon a Royal.
Death.
For oneself and – possibly – for one's entire family line, a punishment that could erase generations in a single, bloody stroke.
I'd twisted the knife, just a little, my voice cool and pleasant.
"Oh, but I assure you, esteemed Factor Sun, I would never jest about such grave matters! Everyone is well aware of the penalties for attempting to deceive the Imperial Family! Please inform Her Highness that I look forward to presenting my humble offerings to Her in person."
…
The remote belief generated in the wake of that particular conversation had been spectacular… though, sadly, the Princess still didn't seem to believe in the transcendent level of my alchemy skills.
My attention returned to the present, to the gentle hum of the flying boat.
I looked over at Ruolan, who was gazing thoughtfully out the crystal window at the endless, churning sea of clouds below. It occurred to me, with a sudden, piercing clarity, that for all her constant presence and unwavering loyalty, I knew almost nothing of her life beyond the walls of the Jiang estate, nothing of the heart that beat beneath the disciplined facade of the perfect servant.
"Ruolan," I said, my voice cutting softly through her reverie. "Tell me about your family."
She started, visibly surprised, her head snapping around to face me. A faint blush, the color of a dawn sky, rose on her cheeks.
"Master? There… there isn't much to tell, really. We are a humble family."
"Please. indulge me," I said, my tone gentle but firm, an invitation that was also a command.
"Of course, Master. Though… I am not sure if I can tell you much that you do not already know."
She straightened, composing herself, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"My family name is Lin. We have served your Jiang family for four generations now, since before your esteemed father became the head of the family. Our main estate is outside the Yuhang city walls, where we cultivate herbs. We…"
She paused, seemingly gathering her thoughts.
"…we have had some success with martial-grade herbs, enough to maintain the estate and our modest house in the city. But our true ambition, our dream for generations, has always been to cultivate spirit herbs."
A shadow crossed her face, a familiar, ingrained pain that dimmed the light in her eyes.
"But this land… the Qi itself… is hostile. We call it the 'Frontier's Breath.' It poisons the soil for delicate spiritual plants, twisting their roots and souring their energy. My father has tried for decades… my brother, Lin Jie, he… his cultivation is stalled at the first stage of Qi Condensation. He is already seventeen – quite old by cultivator standards. Few sects would accept him with such poor progress. The volatile nature of the ambient Qi in this region makes progress almost impossible for those with modest talent like his. It is like trying to swim up a waterfall."
She sighed, a soft, melancholic sound that seemed to hold the weight of her entire family's struggle.
"And my younger sister, Lin Mei… she has no spiritual root at all. She is a mortal, doomed to die young. Her children will likely be mortals too."
Her gaze grew distant, her voice becoming wistful, filled with a profound tenderness.
"I miss them all so much. Especially Mei. She used to follow me around everywhere in the gardens, her hands always covered in dirt. Since I was assigned to follow you to Qingshan two years ago, Master, I have not had the chance to see or speak to them. Not once."
Her words, so full of simple, honest longing, struck a chord with me. I looked out the window. We were making excellent time. The political games in Yuhang, the banquet, the meeting with the Princess—none of that would begin until the day after tomorrow.
"Lian Hua," I called out, my voice clear and decisive. The piloting cabin door slid open a crack. "Yes, Master?"
"Ruolan and I will come up and talk you through adjusting course when we get to Yuhang City. We will be heading for the Lin family estate."
Ruolan's head snapped towards me, her eyes wide with shock, then filled with a glistening, disbelieving gratitude that was more eloquent than any words could ever be.