The message did not come from the Luo River Sect's patriarch.
It did not come from an elder.
It came from a name Gu Hao had never heard before.
Zhao Ming
Outer Sect Deacon
Gu Qing brought it personally.
"It wasn't delivered through sect channels," he said. "It came through a trade clerk."
Gu Hao read it once.
Then a second time.
The wording was careful. Almost hesitant.
The Luo River Sect's grain distribution has improved noticeably since your supply began.
Certain internal inefficiencies, however, remain unresolved.
If Patriarch Gu is willing, I request a private discussion on matters of logistics and labor deployment.
Gu Hao folded the letter.
"This is not authority reaching down," he said calmly. "This is management reaching sideways."
Gu Jian raised an eyebrow. "Is that safer?"
"No," Gu Hao replied. "But it's more honest."
They met outside the sect proper.
Not in a hall.
Not in an office.
In the fields.
Zhao Ming was a cultivator, a sect deacon.
Middle-aged. Sun-darkened skin. Calloused hands. His posture carried neither arrogance nor fear.
He bowed deeply when Gu Hao arrived.
"Patriarch Gu," he said. "Thank you for coming."
"You asked," Gu Hao replied. "Speak."
They walked between rows of grain as Zhao Ming talked.
"Your grain," Zhao Ming said, "has reduced fatigue among our field crews by roughly one fifth."
Gu Hao listened.
"Work shifts are longer. Injuries fewer. But…" Zhao Ming hesitated.
"But your systems didn't change," Gu Hao finished.
Zhao Ming stopped walking.
"…Yes."
Gu Hao nodded.
On Earth, he had seen this endlessly.
Improved input into a broken system only revealed the system's flaws faster.
"Our mortals are assigned in rigid blocks," Zhao Ming continued. "Rotation is fixed. Skill isn't considered."
Gu Hao glanced at the fields.
"How many workers do you oversee?" he asked.
"Roughly 4,800," Zhao Ming replied.
A fraction of the sect.
Enough to matter.
"And how much discretion do you have?" Gu Hao asked.
Zhao Ming hesitated.
"On paper?" he said. "Very little."
"And in practice?" Gu Hao asked.
Zhao Ming exhaled. "More than anyone admits."
Gu Hao smiled faintly.
That was the door.
"I'm not asking you to change sect policy," Zhao Ming said quickly. "I know that's impossible."
Gu Hao stopped and turned to him.
"Good," he said. "Because I wouldn't help you if you were."
Zhao Ming looked startled.
Gu Hao continued calmly.
"What I can offer," he said, "is a method, not authority."
They sat beneath a tree.
No guards close enough to hear.
Gu Hao spoke simply.
"Segment your labor," he said.
"Rotate by fatigue, not time."
"Pair experienced workers with new ones."
"Track output per group, not per field."
Zhao Ming's eyes widened slowly.
"These aren't cultivation techniques," he said.
"No," Gu Hao replied. "They're respect techniques."
Zhao Ming laughed quietly, then stopped himself.
"Will the sect allow this?" he asked.
Gu Hao met his gaze.
"They don't need to," he said. "Results defend themselves."
Zhao Ming bowed deeply when they parted.
"I can't promise anything," he said.
"I'm not asking for promises," Gu Hao replied. "Only observation."
Back at the Gu Clan, Gu Qing listened intently.
"This ties us deeper," he said.
"Yes," Gu Hao agreed. "But not upward."
"And if Zhao Ming succeeds?"
Gu Hao's expression grew thoughtful.
"Then the Luo River Sect's mortals will know where the improvement came from," he said.
Gu Jian frowned. "Isn't that risky?"
"Yes," Gu Hao replied. "But loyalty built through competence spreads faster than loyalty enforced through fear."
Two weeks later, the first result arrived.
Not a report.
A reorder.
The Luo River Sect increased its weekly work grain request by 1,500 jin.
No explanation attached.
Gu Hao nodded once.
The door had opened.
Sideways.
That night, Gu Hao stood alone, looking out over the clan.
He had not allied with a sect.
He had allied with the people who made it function.
On Earth, that lesson had taken him years.
Here, it had arrived early.
He wrote a single line in his private notes:
Institutions move slowly. People move systems.
The Gu Clan remained small.
But its influence had begun to flow where strength alone could never reach.
Gu Hao hated vibration.
Not the sound.
The loss.
He watched a cart roll through the gates, grain sacks shifting slightly with every uneven stone. No spill. No break.
Still waste.
"Unload and restock," he said calmly.
The driver hesitated. "Patriarch, it's still usable."
Gu Hao nodded. "Yes. And it arrived more tired than it should have."
The driver didn't understand.
Gu Hao didn't explain.
That night, Gu Hao sat alone, fingers stained dark.
Not from ink.
From sap.
He turned the sticky substance slowly in his hand, stretching it, pressing it flat, letting it snap back.
Elastic.
On Earth, this had changed transport before engines ever did.
Here… it was untouched.
He summoned Lin Wei and Gu Qing the next morning.
"I want smoother carts," Gu Hao said.
Gu Qing blinked. "Bigger wheels?"
"No," Gu Hao replied. "Softer ones."
Lin Wei frowned. "Wood can't do that."
Gu Hao placed the sap on the table.
"This can."
Processing took time.
Failures came first.
Too brittle.
Too sticky.
Too soft under weight.
Gu Hao adjusted heat, ash ratios, drying time.
Mortals watched. Learned. Replicated.
No secrecy yet.
Just experimentation.
The first usable strip was ugly.
Blackened. Uneven.
But when wrapped around a wheel rim and tested…
The cart rolled.
Smoother.
Quieter.
The driver returned after a full route and said only one thing.
"My hands don't ache."
Gu Hao smiled faintly.
Gu Jian watched the next delivery depart.
"This doesn't make us stronger," he said.
Gu Hao shook his head.
"It lets strength arrive intact."
Within two weeks:
Cart repair time droppedGrain breakage reducedDelivery fatigue visibly decreased
Gu Qing ran the numbers.
"Efficiency gain: roughly 18%," he reported.
Gu Hao nodded.
Enough to matter.
Not enough to attract thieves yet.
That night, Gu Hao stood near the fields, sap drying on wooden frames.
Innovation did not roar.
It whispered.
And whispers traveled far when they saved effort.
He wrote a single line in his private notes:
Most losses happen between intention and arrival.
The Gu Clan had just shortened that distance.