[Southern Tang, Jinling City]
Unlike the mining-rich Western Yan, the Southern Tang was a labyrinth of rivers and a hive of merchants. In the most prosperous district stood "Exquisite Pavilion" (Linglong Ge), a building whose business model was nothing short of revolutionary—and terrifying.
It didn't sell physical goods. It sold "Dividends" and "Futures." Every day, the wealthiest merchants of Jinling stared at the wooden boards in the main hall where prices fluctuated (a primitive stock market), going mad over virtual points.
On the top floor, a woman in a Moonlight-Shadow gauze dress flicked the beads of a custom-made abacus. The bracer on her wrist was silent, hidden beneath exquisite silk.
She was Yellow Seven—known in this world as the County Princess of Southern Tang, Qi Xuan.
[Southern Tang, One Year Ago]
The sound of horse hooves shattered the silence of the mountain path.
"Sister! Sister, wake up! Don't leave Hao'er..." A young child's voice wailed with terror.
When Qi Xuan (Code: Yellow Seven, a modern top-tier actuary and logistics expert) opened her eyes, a searing pain burned in her lungs. A broken arrow was lodged in her shoulder. Beneath her lay a boy of seven or eight, crying as he tried to staunch her bleeding.
Memories flooded in: Qi Xuan, the daughter of a hereditary Prince of a different surname. By her father's generation, the title carried no real power—only a hollow loyalty to the Imperial family. Today, their family outing had been ambushed. To draw away the bandits, her parents had sacrificed themselves, leaving their best guard to protect the siblings.
"Princess, the bandits are closing in! I will hold them—take the young Prince and run!" The old guard, drenched in blood, stood firm in the rain.
Yellow Seven endured the agony and sat up. Her eyes, which usually only calculated data, now held a chilling killing intent.
"Run? To where?" she muttered. She scanned the terrain. As a logistics specialist, her greatest skill was maximizing results from limited resources.
"Hao'er, stop crying. Give me your fire-starter and the jug of spirits from your bag."
She calculated: dry grass, broken timber, a U-shaped valley. Using the volatility of spirits, the ignition point of oiled hay, and a temporary "collapse trigger" built on the principle of levers—BOOM.
She brought down half the mountain path in a roar of flame. The fire swallowed the shadows behind them. Clutching her unconscious brother, she stepped through the embers and ash, walking out of hell.
In that moment, she understood: In this world, kindness and titles are just epitaphs for the weak. Only money and power are true pardons from death.
[Jinling, One Year Later]
The blood-stained Princess who once fled for her life now sat atop the Exquisite Pavilion.
"Sister."
A young boy in a silver brocade robe entered. He was Qi Hao, the current titular Prince, raised and taught by Yellow Seven for the past year.
"Hao'er, finished your studies?" Yellow Seven tucked away a secret letter, her gaze softening.
"I have. But I'm more interested in the 'Compound Interest' math you taught me," Hao'er replied seriously.
Yellow Seven felt a pang of warmth. In a year, she had used modern chain-store models to monopolize the export of silk and tea, and created "Futures Trading" to grip the financial throat of the Southern Tang Imperial family. Her political enemies had been bankrupted in carefully engineered "market crashes."
However, she knew that once wealth reaches a level that shakes the foundation of a nation, the true hunt begins.
[The Guardian in the Shadows]
Six months ago, Qi Xuan recruited a dozen elite guards. Three of the best were assigned to Hao'er. The young Prince, though small, practiced with a wooden sword heavier than himself through every storm.
"Young Prince, if you can't hold on, rest for a moment," an old guard urged.
"No," Hao'er gritted his teeth, sweat dripping into the cracks of the stone floor. "This pain is not one-thousandth of what Sister endures."
In his young heart, the memory of his parents' blood was still fresh. His sister's lonely, straight back as she fought off greedy relatives was the true "pain." He had seen her late at night over mountains of ledgers, winning battles in court with cold, sharp words. She was gambling her life for a home; he refused to be her weakness.
Among the guards, the one Hao'er loved most was the young instructor, Lin Feng. Unlike the traditional, gruff martial artists, Lin Feng was as agile as a leopard and carried a casual, rogue-like charm.
"Sword moves are dead; people are alive," Lin Feng said, flicking a willow branch that hissed through the air. He tapped Hao'er's shoulder with a rare warmth. "Rest. Your sister wants you to learn martial arts for protection, not to turn you into a stone statue."
Only before Lin Feng did Hao'er show a childish smile.
Hao'er liked Lin Feng not just for his impossibly fast sword, but because Lin Feng would secretly buy him candied haws in the alleys behind the Pavilion and tell him stories of the "Desert Smoke" of the Northwest frontiers. To Lin Feng, Hao'er wasn't a Prince—he was just a boy growing up.
"Brother Lin, when can I be like you... protected by a sword and protecting those I love?"
Lin Feng leaned against a stone pillar, his eyes tracing the silhouette of the woman on the top floor. "Focus on the basics first," he replied distractedly.
[The Secret of Lin Feng]
Lin Feng stood on the field, watching Hao'er. His mind was elsewhere. He and Lin Jin were still living with the kind Old Chen couple. Most of his salary went to treating Lin Jin's leg and supporting the elders.
Six months ago, the smoke of battle hadn't settled when Deputy General Lin Jin dragged the unconscious Eldest Young General, Chu Fengning, out of a mountain of corpses. Their armor was shattered, and Lin Jin's left leg was mangled to the bone. They were saved by the Chen couple and their ox-cart.
"Old ones, this is my brother, Lin Feng," Lin Jin had lied through the pain. "We were headed to relatives when bandits took everything."
Two days later, Chu Fengning woke from the nightmare. Realizing Lin Jin had nearly lost a leg to save him, the commander of thousands felt his eyes redden for the first time. To pay for the medical bills and the debt of life, Chu Fengning shed his aura and donned rough clothes.
In Jinling, he was no longer the Young General. He was Lin Feng.
He had seen the recruitment notice for the Exquisite Pavilion. He applied under the name Lin Feng and stunned the examiners in just three moves. The manager, seeing his extraordinary skill and calm demeanor, promoted him to the inner manor to serve as the personal martial arts instructor for the young Prince.
[Exquisite Pavilion, Top Floor]
Qi Xuan stood by the window, looking down at the master and disciple on the field. She was strict in her recruitment; Lin Feng remained because of the pure sincerity in his eyes when he looked at Hao'er.
In the chess game of Jinling, Lin Feng was a wild card—an unpredictable blade.
"Princess, Master Lin took the Prince for pastries again today," a maid reported.
Qi Xuan flicked a bead on her abacus with a sharp CLICK. A faint smile touched her lips. "Let them be."
[FLASHBACK: THE SOUTHERN TANG BORDER, SIX MONTHS AGO]
The acrid smoke of battle had not yet dissipated when Deputy General Lin Jin performed the impossible. From beneath a mountain of corpses, he dragged the unconscious body of the Eldest Young General, Chu Fengning, into the cold air.
Their armor was shattered beyond repair. Lin Jin's left leg had been mangled by stray arrows and jagged rocks, the wound so deep the bone was visible. With every agonizing step he took, a visceral trail of crimson was left in the mud. Had it not been for an elderly couple traveling the imperial road with an ox-cart, these two commanders—who once commanded the winds and clouds of the battlefield—would have surely become nothing more than bleached bones in the wilderness.
The couple, surnamed Chen, were simple and honest folk. They were returning from a neighboring town after visiting their daughter, who had just given birth. Seeing the two men in such a gruesome state, they didn't hesitate. They hoisted the wounded warriors onto their cart and brought them back to their humble, yet warm, courtyard.
"Elders, this is my younger brother, Lin Feng," Lin Jin lied through gritted teeth, his face deathly pale as he endured the throbbing pain in his leg. "We were on our way to seek refuge with distant relatives, but we were ambushed by bandits. They took everything... and left us like this."
Old Man Chen and his wife looked at the two men. Despite their wretched condition, their bearing was far from ordinary. Full of pity, the couple opened the door to their spare room and tended to them daily with selfless care.
Two days later, Chu Fengning bolted upright, startled awake by a nightmare.
Instead of blood-soaked war banners, his eyes met the low-slung wooden beams of a farmhouse. When he learned that Lin Jin had nearly sacrificed his leg to protect him, the commander who had once unified ten thousand troops felt his vision blur. For the first time in his life, his eyes grew red with unshed tears.
"Young General... as long as you are alive, it is enough," Lin Jin whispered, leaning against the doorframe as he tried to hide his mangled left foot.
The debt of life and the mounting medical costs weighed on Chu Fengning like two massive mountains. The Chens were not wealthy, and if Lin Jin's leg wasn't treated soon, he would be crippled for the rest of his life.
To survive, Chu Fengning suppressed every ounce of his military authority. He traded his pride for coarse linen clothes and walked into the bustling heart of Jinling City. From that day forward, Chu Fengning ceased to exist.
In Jinling, he was merely Lin Feng.
On that particular day, the most clamorous place in the city was "The Exquisite Pavilion." A recruitment notice for manor guards was posted outside, offering a salary so substantial it was staggering.
Chu Fengning stared at the parchment, his fingers instinctively brushing the hilt of the longsword hidden beneath his cloak—a blade whose brilliance he had learned to conceal.
He applied under the name "Lin Feng." With only three moves, he struck awe into the hearts of the examiners. The manager of the Exquisite Pavilion, struck by his peerless skill and icy composure, did more than just hire him. Because the County Princess, Qi Xuan, was searching for a master to teach her young brother, he was given an exceptional promotion: he was assigned to the inner courts of the Prince's Manor.