Rumor One: Year Nanli 26, Gui Month, Shangque Si Day. At a point thirty li from the boundary on the You section of the Jiang River, a fisherman saw a bronze coffin emerge from the waters.
He opened the coffin to look. Inside was a young man, around twenty years old. His feathered robe was torn and ragged, his face was as pale as gold paper, he looked withered and exhausted, yet still carried an air of refinement. Though he seemed severely ill, he did not look dead.
The fisherman claimed he tried to check for breath. Before his finger even got close, he suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain and a bone-chilling cold. This happened three times. Terrified, he didn't dare get close again. He hurriedly closed the coffin lid and ran away.
Addendum: Fragments of the feathered robe are kept as evidence. A search of the area found nothing. The matter is suspicious. Already reported to the local Suoyu post. Request the Zhuying station quickly report to Sangeng level. Coordinate with the Lightning Department...
— "Collection of Records from Liu County, Shenzhou Wilds - Wind Volume"
...
A crescent moon hung in the mid-sky like a hook, its dim yellow light shrouding a lone bamboo-roofed boat by the riverbank, adding to the bleakness.
The river sobbed monotonously, slapping against the sides of the boat.
On the bank, a man in a ragged straw raincoat weighed the new hemp coin pouch in his hand—five hundred coins, heavy. This was the reward he got from reporting the strange event of the bronze coffin in the river to the Feng Department.
A day's earnings were usually just over ten coins. The fish he caught himself sold for just two or three coins, sometimes a valuable Royal Fish without small bones could fetch a hundred.
These five hundred coins were enough for over a month's food.
The man's heart warmed, planning: get a few pounds of fatty meat at the market, buy half a jar of yellow wine, relax his muscles and bones. As for oil, animal fat was cheaper than pressed oil, so fat was better.
Deep in thought, he reached his boat. Suddenly, a voice came from inside the bamboo shelter, cold as ice scraping over stone:
"In the beginning was the God, who journeyed from the Star Abyss."
The man jolted rigid, his pleasant dreams vanishing. Water droplets fell shivering from his raincoat. He suddenly remembered his other identity—not just a fisherman, but also a follower of the Starry Cult! He stiffened like a puppet, clasped his hands, and bowed, his voice panicked:
"Fallen from the high heavenly steps, chains of the mortal world bind his heels. This humble one greets the Venerable One! I have done as instructed by the cult superiors and reported what I saw to the Feng Department."
"You have been diligent." The voice from the boat seemed to sigh lightly, but the sigh cut off abruptly, the tone shifting to a deliberately crafted pity. "The Wilds have been barren for ten years. The officials act without virtue, the people suffer. For the sake of all, I have devoted my essence, energy, and spirit in devout prayer and sacrifice, moving the Heavenly God. Not long ago, the God specially sent me a dream, granting me revelation."
The fisherman inexplicably felt a wave of poorly concealed exhaustion in the voice, like a bowstring stretched to its limit loosening just a crack.
Huh? Strange, why did I notice that? He shook his head, trying to dismiss the sudden thought.
«Don't think! Don't think! Please him, make him talk more! Forget this, now! Immediately!»
A crystal-clear command exploded in his mind.
The fisherman instantly thought of the bronze coffin! The cold sensation seemed to linger on his fingertips—he had touched that person, and then what happened?
Nothing. Nothing unusual happened at all.
Then he reported it to the Feng Department as instructed by the cult's inside contact, and got this five hundred coin reward.
Then, then it was now. The Venerable One was in the boat shelter! A figure second only to one in the Starry Cult, right here in the boat shelter!
The fisherman's Adam's apple bobbed. He tried to bow even lower, raising his voice with an almost fawning, tearful tone: "The Venerable One is merciful! Compassionate to the people's suffering! We humble folk are ignorant, unaware of Heaven's will. We desperately beg the Venerable One to show us the way!"
As soon as he said it, he felt the falseness of his tone sting his own ears.
«Damn! Overacted! Whatever, try to Influence him.»
"Your words..." the Venerable One inside indeed sounded puzzled, his voice scrutinizing, "...sound like someone who's read a few books. But I thought you were just a fisherman?"
But the flattery had clearly hit the mark. Added to the mental exhaustion from days of prayer, that slight doubt was instantly overwhelmed by a swelling desire to talk, merely guessing the fisherman must have heard such phrases somewhere.
"The revered God revealed," the Venerable One's voice was less cold, carrying a trace of barely perceptible eagerness, "that thirty years ago, the ominous star Yinghuo passed from the Ziwei Enclosure through the NanDou sector and fell into Shenzhou, disrupting the Mandate of Heaven! The rightful rule of Zhai Xia was usurped by the Feng Hua rebels, just like the South Dipper turning North! The revered God needs to descend personally to set right what is wrong!"
Zhai Xia, wasn't that the previous dynasty in Yang Province, pacified by Shenzhou's Feng Hua court ten years ago? What rightful rule, what rebellion? The fisherman thought. In his view, all nine regions of Shenzhou, including the Wilds, were under Feng Hua rule, though the Wilds were remote and more like self-governed by the Lords. As for Yang Province, he only knew that ten years ago the Lords and the Feng Hua court campaigned north, broke Zhai Xia, and secured Yang Province.
This was beyond his understanding. He decided not to speak again, just listen, that was the way to stay safe.
"The God... can descend?" The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. The fisherman himself was stunned.
Why did I ask that? He felt uneasy, tightening his grip on the hemp bag, trying to feel the promise of the five hundred coins and the good future they represented, drawing some security from that.
The Venerable One suddenly found this person quite curious and inquisitive. Thinking it over, it wasn't really forbidden knowledge. Moreover, after ten years of painstaking effort, on the verge of great success, he had no one to share this secret excitement and pride with—the feeling was truly grating.
Thinking this, the warmth in his voice increased a few degrees: "Originally not, no, wait, originally yes. But ever since the Lords fully incorporated the nine counties of the Wilds, established the Four Departments of Wind, Rain, Thunder, and Lightning, promoted literacy, founded many schools, and cracked down on improper worship... the gods, losing the mortal world's incense offerings, naturally found it hard to descend."
"Then, ten years ago, when the Lords were mostly dead or gone," the Venerable One's speech quickened, carrying a hint of barely controllable excitement, "even though the Lightning Department responsible for secret affairs rushed about, they were ultimately overstretched. And the Four Departments of Wind, Rain, Thunder, and Lightning had different origins and differing stances from their founding. Although the Lightning Department handles matters of worship and spirits, if we first report the matter to the Feng Department, the Lightning Department cannot act freely without involving them—how would that make the Feng Department look? And for the Feng Department to investigate a matter involving the Lightning Department, they must report it to the Shogunate for a decision."
"The Feng Department is efficient, but official documents travel three hundred li a day on the post road. Liu County Shogunate is over a thousand li from here. A round trip would take at least seven days."
"Therefore," the Venerable One's voice was full of certainty, feeling in control, "time is on my side, not the enemy's. Apart from the Lightning Department, the other three departments are not worth worrying about."
A muscle twitched almost imperceptibly on the fisherman's face, a flicker of a long-forgotten memory fragment.
He hesitantly interrupted, his voice dry: "But... but, Venerable One, above Shijue there are the 'Sangeng'... If they... if they find out..."
His throat tightened as if gripped, a vague, painful memory fragment about the Wilds' strict military hierarchy surfacing.
Men of the Wilds valued martial prowess. Back when the Lords established the Six Armies, if not for the restraint of tribal priests, almost everyone would have joined.
The military ranks were clear: from Gongshi who only participated in spring and autumn drills, to Niaorong and Bugengyi who served short or long terms, to the San Dafu who commanded troops, Zuoshu and Youshu who rose through merit, up to the stationed generals Sangeng, Sanqing, Neihou, and Chehou.
The Feng Department was basically a nest for retired Wilds soldiers. From Suoyu, Zhuying, Dushou, up to Shijue, most were veterans of the Wild Six Armies. It was the duty of Wilds folk to provide information to the Feng Department, with rewards, like his five hundred coins. And from the Zhuying level up, the Feng Department had discretionary power to report directly to the stationed Sangeng generals, bypassing the Four Departments' usual process.
The Venerable One wasn't annoyed by the interruption, but rather looked at him with scrutiny: "You're quite familiar with the Wild Six Armies."
His gaze was sharp as a knife, sweeping over the fisherman's blank face, but was again overwhelmed by his own fanatical excitement for impending success. He took a few deep breaths, his chest heaving, his voice suddenly rising with a long-suppressed fervor:
"But I only need three days! Three days versus seven days, the advantage is mine! They only have three days! And moreover, even if the Sangeng come personally, what can they do?! The Lords are dead! I have waited ten years for this! How could they overturn it in just three days?!"
"Let the Lords beneath the Nine Springs watch well, see who is correcting their past mistakes now!"
Before the words faded, the boat shelter shook, and a figure in white stepped out.
He didn't come ashore, but actually walked on the surface of the water!
His movements seemed extremely slow, one step at a time, yet in an instant, he was far into the depths of the southern sky, leaving only his fading voice carrying a kind of morbid ecstasy, suppressed for ten years and finally fulfilled:
"The revered God answers all questions, grants all requests! He needs a body to descend! An outsider from beyond this world is the most suitable anchor! I have found him! Found him! Hahahahaha—!"
The fisherman silently boarded the boat and picked up the long pole. The pole entered the water, shattering the faint moon's reflection on the river.
He suddenly turned his head, looking at the black,heavy water. A rough, fishy-smelling finger subconsciously pressed against his own chapped lips, as if to seal all sound.
"Shh..." he whispered to the dark river water, his eyes empty like deep wells. "Quiet. Don't scare the fish."
Then, his thoughts, like the moon's reflection in the water, quickly blurred and scattered with the ripples from the boat's movement, sinking into a blank stillness.
"The world's turbidity is not my doing; The world's clarity is not my wish..."
A faint sigh, if it existed at all, dissipated in the night wind.
...
Jiang Lixuan: Appeared in Shenzhou waters thirty years ago.
Twenty-seven years ago, Emperor Lie Wen hunted in the Cloud Region's Dream Marsh, dreamed of a phoenix falling from the nine heavens into his embrace, and found her by the Jiang River...
Ten years ago, Jiang Lixuan led troops north out of Shenzhou, campaigned against Yang Province, conquered Xia, and died of illness on the return journey.
Note: This entry is ranked Position One. Must be recopied annually.
— Cang Yuan Position One Secret Record
Jiang Lixuan, leader of the Lords of the Wilds. Confirmed dead. Body not found. Only suspicious point: Since her death, only her deeds remain; her name and surname are half-hidden, half-lost. Reason unknown.
Note: Names are easily lost. Take care to preserve them.
— Joint Record of the Ni Cang Yan Shou and Huang Shou