Immortality Starts With Face

The first rays of dawn were just beginning to make their way through the expensive silk curtains of my bedchamber when I awoke. For a blessed, fleeting instant, there was only the soft comfort of the exclusive, high-thread-count, Golden Orb Weaver Spider Silk sheets (manifested, of course!) and the lingering, pleasant tingle in muscles that had actually been used with some ferocity.

A small smile touched my lips as I stretched, the movement fluid, powerful, my body thrumming with the dense, vibrant energy of the Peak of the Qi Gathering Realm. It was still a novel sensation, this effortless command over a reservoir of power that, just a few days ago, would have seemed a fantastical dream to the previous Jiang Li.

Then, memory returned in a rush, bringing with it the coppery scent of blood, and the chilling, undeniable satisfaction of righteous, brutally delivered retribution from the previous night.

I considered what had transpired.

Our attempted safe return to the Qingshan estate had been… less than auspicious. The lingering chaos of the bandit ambush, the near-fatal injuries to Yue and Zhang Wei, the sheer, nerve-shredding tension of it all, had left me with little patience for domestic trifles.

And yet, trifles, it seemed, had an unfortunate habit of festering in my absence.

Like maggots on unattended meat.

Last night's scene in the kitchen… Captain Gou Xiong and his loutish companions… their casual, brutish violation of that poor mortal serving girl, Lian Hua.

I believe my reaction was more than justified. The cold fury that had coursed through me then was a new, unsettling, yet undeniably potent sensation.

As for what happened next, well… it only took one more… example… with another of the more belligerent mercenaries who had dared to publicly talk back to me, before things got back on track. This one, that Dog Captain's Lieutenant, a swaggering Qi Gathering Stage 5 lout, clearly fancied himself a cut above the rest, perhaps believing his strength afforded him certain… privileges.

He had made the fatal error of questioning my authority directly; of openly leering at Ruolan while she was fulfilling her duties; of sneering at my youth with a contempt he hadn't bothered to conceal.

And, wouldn't you know it, the sight of his reproductive organs, encased in a sheath of glittering, unnatural ice before shattering into a thousand crimson-stained fragments at a casual flick of my wrist… had a wonderfully clarifying effect on the remaining hired muscle. The sudden, shocking silence that followed, broken only by his agonized screams, was a symphony to my newly-awakened sense of order.

The rest of the mercenaries, their faces pale and their bravado conspicuously absent, had fallen into line with remarkable alacrity after that!

Discipline, it seems, is best served cold.

However, this ad-hoc enforcement, while viscerally satisfying and undeniably effective in the short term, was… inefficient. After all, I couldn't be everywhere at once. I had no time to personally ensure every sword-for-hire -- most of whom were little more than undisciplined thugs around these backwater parts -- remembered their place at all times.

What I needed… were reliable captains, individuals with enough cultivation – Foundation Establishment at the very least – but, more importantly, enough loyalty (or, failing that, a healthy and profound, bone-deep fear) to enforce my order among the men. Rape, looting, and harassing my other staff, or the mortal townsfolk of Qingshan, was not behavior I would tolerate.

I was, after all, trying to protect the mortals within my domain -- not allow them to be preyed upon by the very wolves I paid to guard the sheep!

I made a mental note to discreetly interview some of the independent Foundation Establishment cultivators who approached Ruolan about possible employment after the auction in Fallen Star City. Perhaps a few, those with a modicum of common sense, could be… persuaded… to join my burgeoning enterprise. A little gold and spirit stones, a few promises of cultivation resources… everyone had a price.

And I, it seemed, was becoming quite adept at discovering exactly what that price was – and manifesting the necessary payment.

+++

With a sigh that was more weariness than exasperation, I rose, the cool morning air a welcome sensation against my skin.

It was time to check on my recovering companions!

I headed to Big Sis Yue's assigned guest suite first: a spacious, airy set of adjoining rooms overlooking the central courtyard, its windows admitting the gentle morning light.

It was empty.

The bed was neatly made. Her formidable spear – a weapon that seemed almost an extension of her own fierce spirit – was leaning innocently against the wall.

I felt a flicker of unease that was quickly suppressed. She was, after all, a Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment expert and a seasoned Frontier adventurer who had faced dangers that would make a lesser cultivator's blood run cold.

She was undoubtedly more than a match for any threat to be found in this pathetic city.

Still… the events of the ambush had been brutal, and even the strongest spirit could be shaken by such an ordeal.

Drawn by the low murmur of voices – a sound almost too quiet to register even with my newly-enhanced senses – I found myself outside City Lord Zhang Wei's suite, further down the corridor.

The heavy redwood door was slightly ajar.

My new Aura Concealment skill, a gift from the System that still felt like a delightful, illicit secret, had already kicked in almost instinctively. I was a ghost – a silent, stealthy observer, my presence all but indistinguishable from the ambient Qi of the hallway.

As natural and unremarkable as a stray mote of dust.

Peering through the narrow gap, I witnessed a rather… unexpected… and surprisingly tender tableau.

A positively domestic scene was unfolding!

Big Sis Yue, her usual boisterous energy tempered by a gentle, almost maternal concern, was fussing over a clearly flustered Zhang Wei.

He was propped up in the large, comfortable bed, looking pale, frail, and utterly overwhelmed – like a startled rabbit cornered by a particularly solicitous tigress.

A bowl of steaming, fragrant medicinal congee – its aroma rich with nourishing herbs – sat on the bedside table, and Yue was attempting, with a mixture of coaxing and firm, no-nonsense insistence, to spoon some of it into his mouth. Her movements, usually so broad and decisive, were now surprisingly deft. Almost delicate.

Zhang Wei, his round face flushed with a delightful shade of crimson that clashed rather spectacularly with his otherwise greyish pallor, was stammering, his hands fluttering about ineffectually like wounded birds.

"L-Lady Jiang! Please, you… you mustn't trouble yourself! This lowly one… I am utterly unworthy of such… such gracious attention! Truly, it… is too much!"

Yue, with a sigh that was equal parts exasperated affection and fond amusement, rolled her eyes at him – though the gesture lacked its usual sharp, teasing edge.

"Oh, stuff it with the 'Lady Jiang' nonsense already, Zhang Wei. I've already told you half a dozen times, it's just Yue!"

She paused.

"…And stop being such a stubborn old mule! You need to eat to recover your strength. Alchemist's orders! Well, my orders… which are even more important right now!"

She dipped the spoon into the congee again, her expression softening as she brought it towards his lips.

"What I did…" Zhang Wei mumbled, his gaze dropping down to the expensive, brocaded silk coverlet, his voice thick with a weary resignation that tugged at something unexpectedly sympathetic within me.

"Please understand. It was merely my duty as City Lord… and a desperate act from a desperate man… nothing noble… nothing worthy of… of this."

Yue's expression softened further, a rare and beautiful sight that transformed her handsome, usually fierce features into something almost breathtakingly gentle. She placed a hand lightly on his arm, her touch surprisingly delicate for a woman whose grip could shatter stone with ease.

"No," she said, her voice low and earnest, losing all its usual teasing cadence, imbued instead with a profound sincerity.

"Duty is one thing, Zhang Wei. What you did out there… sacrificing your power, your very future, everything a cultivator holds dear, to protect us… to protect me…"

Her gaze met his, unwavering, and held a depth of emotion, a raw gratitude, that made my own breath catch in my throat.

"That was noble, Zhang Wei. Truly, profoundly noble."

And then, before the astonished and increasingly flustered City Lord could utter another word of protest, she did something utterly, wonderfully scandalous by the rigid, suffocating social norms of this world: she leaned down… and planted a firm, resounding, and entirely unapologetic kiss directly on his astonished cheek!

Zhang Wei sputtered, his face now a shade of incandescent crimson that would have made a sunset jealous.

"L-Lady Y-Yue! You… you shouldn't… I… I am no longer even a cultivator."

His voice cracked, thick with a despair that felt raw, genuine, and utterly heartbreaking.

"A cripple. A mere mortal now! My life… it is essentially over. I can't even enjoy the simple pleasure of a good spirit wine anymore…"

He sounded like a man bumbling at the edge of an abyss: flustered, unsure, his carefully constructed world, his very identity, shattered into a million pieces. The loss of his cultivation was clearly a wound far deeper than any physical injury, and one he has not yet fully come to terms with.

Yue's eyes flashed with a sudden, fierce fire, her usual bluntness returning with a vengeance, a protective ferocity now directed at his despair.

"Don't you dare give up, you oaf!" she declared, her voice ringing with an unshakeable conviction that seemed to fill the room.

"So what if your meridians are shot? Is that all? It's a big world out there, Zhang Wei! A world filled with wonders you haven't even dreamed of! We'll surely find a way to heal you. And even if not…" her voice softened again, but the fierceness remained in her eyes, a burning ember of defiance, "well, there are many other paths, other joys! Other strengths! Don't you dare let this break you!"

And this, I thought with a surge of theatrical satisfaction, felt like the perfect cue! Leo Maxwell always knew a good entrance opportunity when he saw one.

Stepping near-silently into the room, I projected an air of calm, benevolent confidence.

"Indeed," I said, my voice pitched to carry without startling them too much, a gentle intrusion into their intense, private moment.

"And that, Your Lordship, Big Sis Yue, is something I actually wanted to speak to you both about. But first…"

I offered a polite, concerned smile,

"…how are you two feeling this morning?"

Yue whirled around, a gasp escaping her lips, her hand instinctively flying towards where her spear would normally be, her entire body tensing with a warrior's ingrained readiness.

Her eyes, wide with shock, fixed on me.

"Little Li! How did you… I didn't even sense you! Wait… Why didn't I sense you? My senses are at Foundation Establishment level! You shouldn't have been able to..."

A small, enigmatic smile played on my lips.

"Oh, it's just a new stealth technique I've been developing; a trifle, really." I said airily, enjoying her momentary disorientation.

"Rather effective, wouldn't you say?"

She stared at me for a long moment, her sharp eyes narrowed in thought, assessing me with a new intensity.

Then, a wide, familiar grin spread across her face, chasing away the last vestiges of alarm.

"Effective is an understatement, you little sneak," she chuckled, relaxing visibly, though a flicker of something – curiosity? – remained in her gaze.

"As for me, I feel… surprisingly good. Astonishingly good, in fact! That pill you gave me yesterday was nothing short of miraculous. My shoulder is completely healed: not even a hint of a scar, nor a twinge of pain. The bones are perfectly set."

She paused, thoughtful.

"In fact, they feel… even stronger than before! And my Qi seems to be flowing more smoothly. What in the Nine Hells was that thing?"

Zhang Wei, however, looked downcast, the brief spark of hope ignited by Yue's fierce encouragement seemingly extinguished by my arrival, perhaps by the reminder of the vast gulf that now separated him from the world of cultivators.

"I, on the other hand," he said, his voice heavy with a weary resignation, "feel like I've been trampled by a herd of iron-skinned rhinos, then struck by lightning, and finally drawn and quartered… for variety. My meridians… are broken. Cold. Empty."

He shook his head sadly.

"I know I can't cultivate anymore. I… I've made my peace with it… mostly."

He attempted a brave, if watery, smile.

"Though," a wistful, almost tragic expression crossed his face, "the thought of a life without the simple joy of a good spirit wine… it's a bleak prospect indeed. A truly barren existence. It looks like you'll have to taste that Asura Blood vintage without me after all, my friend."

"Hold on, now, City Lord," I said gently, stepping closer towards his bed, my voice imbued with a quiet authority.

"Don't be writing your eulogy just yet! And certainly don't resign yourself to a life of drinking only bland, mortal tea! In fact, there are still many spirit vintages to be sampled in your future!"

I looked pointedly at Yue. There was a silent question in her eyes.

"Big Sis, do you recall when we discussed the… source… of my recent good fortune? That certain… something I spoke of?"

She nodded, her eyes widening slightly with a dawning understanding.

The so-called "Immortal Legacy."

The "Soul Space."

The grand, unverifiable story I had spun for her – albeit, the only even vaguely plausible explanation for my sudden wealth and impossible transformation.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Well,"

-- I continued, my voice imbued with a carefully crafted blend of reverence and casual confidence, as if discussing a matter of minor, if pleasant, discovery, --

"amongst the mountains of wealth, ancient texts, and forgotten artifacts contained within… that… I stumbled upon a rather interesting ancient alchemy recipe. Pills formulated for a specific purpose: for restoring – and, indeed, even enhancing – a Foundation Establishment expert's shattered cultivation base. The inventor of that particular recipe was an ancient alchemist whose only son's meridians got shattered, you see. Unwilling to accept what others have called the judgment of the heavens, he spent over twenty years and countless resources on developing experimental formulae before he finally stumbled upon a one that worked. According to his diary, that formula restored his son's meridians completely – enabling a long and fruitful life of future cultivation."

I spread my hands theatrically.

"We shall call this formula… the 'Seven Heavens Meridian Reknitting Pills'."

I rather liked the sound of that name. Grand – yet specific.

Zhang Wei's eyes, which had been dull with despair, suddenly widened: a desperate, almost painful hope igniting within their depths like a rekindled flame in a dying hearth.

"T-truly?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that was almost painful to behold.

"It couldn't be… Such a thing… such a miracle… does it really exist?"

"Indeed," I affirmed, my voice ringing with an unshakeable conviction that even I found persuasive. The Leo Maxwell in me was well and truly in his element now, playing the role of the benevolent, mysterious benefactor to perfection. I channeled every ounce of belief I possessed, every trick of the actor's trade, into that single word, infusing it with the weight of absolute certainty.

"And,"

-- I added, letting the revelation hang in the air for a moment, building the anticipation,

"I have brought you a batch of just such pills — impurity-free, of course – crafted with ingredients that are surprisingly common and easy to procure, for the truth of their value and utility has long been lost to time. It should only take about a week of treatments, one pill a day, and your meridians will be completely rebuilt. Newly-tempered, and a fair bit stronger and more resilient than they were before your… heroic sacrifice."

I paused, allowing the implications to sink in, watching the play of emotions on his face.

"Why, now that I mention it, this… incident… might even prove to be a blessing in disguise! You see, the unique process these pills use to restore and reknit damaged meridians also has the rather remarkable side effect of aggressively cleansing – nay – consuming any and all lingering impurities that may have accumulated within them over the years! Just think of it – all of that accumulated dross from those cheap, mass-produced Nine Essences Pills you've been relying on for your breakthroughs? Gone! Scoured clean from your system!"

I leaned forward, my gaze intense, compelling, willing him to believe.

"Let me tell you: by the end of your treatment, not only will you be as good as new, City Lord Zhang – you'll be even better than new! Faster! Stronger! Your cultivation potential will improve significantly! Why, with the right resources going forward – resources which, I assure you, are of no consequence for one of my friends – you should even have a good shot at reaching the Golden Core realm!"

Zhang Wei stared at me, his face a mask of warring hope and profound, almost terrified disbelief.

He wanted to believe.

Oh, how desperately he wanted to believe!

That raw, fervent desire, that desperate, clawing hope for a future he thought irrevocably lost… was a powerful catalyst, a beacon for the System.

And Yue, already thoroughly convinced of my "Immortal Legacy" and the existence of my "Soul Space" filled with unimaginable wonders, readily accepted this new miracle without a flicker of doubt. After all, if I, her previously "useless" but now dramatically transformed little cousin, said I now possessed impossible alchemy capable of rewriting destinies… who was she to question it?

With her typical blunt personality, she took me at face value.

Her belief was a solid, unwavering anchor that finally brought the manifestation home.

I felt the familiar, subtle hum, which resonated deep within my consciousness; a silent symphony of power.

[Qualified Belief Detected!]

[Belief Source: Zhang Wei (Foundation Establishment – Degraded Meridians). BQT Level 4. Jiang Yue (Foundation Establishment - Mid Stage). BQT Level 7.]

[Analyzing Belief: User Possesses Pills Capable of Restoring & Enhancing Zhang Wei's Shattered Foundation Establishment Meridians, Cleansing Impurities, and Unlocking Cultivation Potential.]

[Threshold Met! Manifestation Initiated! Target: Storage Bracelet Inventory.]

[Item Manifested: Seven Heavens Meridian Reknitting Pills (7x) - Custom-tuned for Zhang Wei's specific injuries, meridian structure, and latent potential. Effect: Complete meridian reconstruction, impurity eradication, slight enhancement of Qi pathways, and a minor boost to overall cultivation aptitude.]

[Belief Meter: +36,000]

With a flourish that Sarah would have applauded for its understated drama, I retrieved a small, exquisitely-carved jade bottle from my storage bracelet.

Inside, nestled upon a bed of what looked like spun moonlight, lay seven pills. Each one glowed with a soft, internal, golden light, radiating a potent, pure, and incredibly complex medicinal aroma that seemed to soothe the very soul, promising vitality and renewal.

I carefully tipped one of these marvels into my palm – it felt warm, almost… alive – and offered it to Zhang Wei.

"Take one now, my friend," I said gently, my voice soft but firm.

"And one each morning thereafter, until your cultivation is fully restored. It should only take a few days – a week at most, for the healing to conclude. And yes," I added, anticipating his unspoken question, "you will most certainly be able to enjoy spirit wine again afterwards. Even the Asura Blood."

Zhang Wei stared at the pill in my palm for a long, silent moment, his eyes wide, mesmerized.

Then, with hands that trembled so violently he could barely control them, he reached out. Tears, fat and unashamed, welled in his eyes and began to trace paths down his pale, astonished face.

"Young Master Jiang, my… friend" he choked out, his voice thick with an emotion too profound, too overwhelming for mere words. "I… I don't know what to say… How can I ever… repay such a kindness?"

"Say nothing, my friend," I interrupted softly, my own voice perhaps a little thicker than I intended. "Just heal. That will be repayment enough."

He nodded, and, with a profound act of faith, he took the proffered pill… and swallowed.

Almost instantly, a warm, golden glow enveloped his body, seeping into his very bones – and, with a soft, contented sigh, he slumped back against the pillows, his features relaxing into the deepest, most peaceful sleep I had ever witnessed. The lines of pain and despair seemed to melt away from his face, replaced by an expression of serene tranquility.

Yue watched the entire exchange with a mixture of profound awe and a deep, affectionate warmth that made her usually sharp features soften beautifully.

"Little Li…" she said, her voice hushed, her gaze fixed on the sleeping City Lord, then shifting to me, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher – gratitude, wonder, perhaps even a touch of fear at the sheer scale of the power I seemed to wield so casually.

"You didn't have to do that. Such pills… they must be beyond priceless! To use one on… on him… a provincial official, however noble his actions…"

"Of course I did, Big Sis," I replied, meeting her gaze directly, letting her see the sincerity in my own. "What are friends for, after all? He risked everything for us. For you! Such debts cannot simply be left unpaid!"

A genuine, warm smile – bright as a summer sunrise after a long, dark storm – spread across her face. She reached out and ruffled my hair, a familiar, affectionate gesture that still managed to surprise me with its easy intimacy, its uncomplicated warmth.

"Hah! I knew there was a reason I always liked you, you troublesome brat!"

Then, her expression turned serious, her eyes holding a new depth of concern, the seasoned adventurer reasserting herself.

"But listen to me, Little Li," she said, her voice dropping to a more somber, cautionary tone, "most people in this ruthless, dog-eat-dog world of ours don't think that way. Be careful who you extend such generosity to. Not everyone you meet is a… a Zhang Wei. Not everyone deserves such kindness. And many, far too many, would see it only as weakness to be exploited. A resource to be plundered. Your heart is good, Little Li, but this world… it has a way of punishing good hearts."

I nodded, understanding her warning, appreciating its sincerity.

She was right, of course.

The cultivation world was a brutal, unforgiving place.

But some debts, some acts of loyalty and sacrifice, demanded repayment in kind. And Zhang Wei, the unassuming, hedonistic, but ultimately noble City Lord of Qingshan Town, had earned this, and more.

Besides, his beliefs had fueled the System – and will surely repay this investment with interest.

+++

Later that day, a guest dining hall of the estate – a rather large, airy room with polished floors of dark, local wood and surprisingly tasteful artwork adorning the walls – had been converted into a makeshift conference room.

Purchased maps of Qingshan Town and of the surrounding region, showing known trade routes, suspected bandit encampments, and areas of minor resource deposits, were spread across the large, rosewood table.

The three of us – myself, Big Sis Yue, and the ever-reliable Ruolan – were deep in discussion, planning my upcoming… expansion.

Qingshan Town, I had decided, was merely the first step on what would become a much grander stage.

After all, with my effectively limitless, inexhaustible resources (fueled by belief, of course… but that was a minor detail with which my friends needn't concern themselves), the entirety of Azure Province – and, eventually, as much of the other provinces as I cared to dominate – would be ripe for the taking.

We discussed necessary improvements to Qingshan's infrastructure – housing, roads, granaries, commercial improvements, defenses – and considered the concerns and needs recently voiced by the town's populace.

We identified lucrative trade routes to establish or – more likely – simply co-opt from less… efficient… operators.

It was as just we were debating the optimal method for persuading a particularly stubborn local magistrate, notorious for his rather inconvenient loyalty to the distant provincial governor, that the interruption came.

A jade communication talisman, tucked securely into Lin Ruolan's robes, suddenly began to vibrate violently, flaring with a sickly, pulsating green light that cast eerie, dancing shadows across the maps spread before us.

It was a crude, primitive thing only capable of connecting with its "twin" across the distance of a couple thousand miles at most, the kind of communications device favored by minor families and merchants for its relative affordability and simplicity.

I could already think of at least a dozen ways to improve its range, its clarity, its Qi efficiency, its security against eavesdropping, and more based on my new 9th Level Talisman Grandmaster knowledge.

Perhaps, I thought to myself, I'll even design a new line of universally compatible, Jiang-branded communication talismans. The… I-Jiang had a nice right to it, no?

Another possible venture for the future… once I had the time and the inclination to pursue it.

Ruolan retrieved the offending object, her brow furrowing as she beheld the flickering sigil. She paled slightly, a flicker of apprehension in her usually calm eyes.

"Master…" she said, her voice a little breathless, "it's… it's your family. The Main Branch in Yuhang City. They are attempting to contact me."

An amused smirk touched my lips.

"Well, don't keep them in suspense, Ruolan!" I said, leaning back in my chair with a theatrical air of nonchalance, though a familiar, unwelcome knot tightened in my own stomach.

"Answer it! Let's see what pearls of wisdom my esteemed family wishes to impart upon their wayward son."

Beside me, Yue snorted derisively, a sound she quickly schooled into a more appropriately serious, if still faintly amused, expression. She had little love for the main branch of the Jiang family, a sentiment I wholeheartedly shared.

The talisman crackled to life, the connection wavering, filled with an irritating static that spoke of distance and inferior craftsmanship.

Then, a voice boomed out: harsh, impatient, and instantly, unpleasantly, recognizable.

My father, Jiang Hongji.

A man whose own cultivation had stalled, ignominiously, at the peak of Foundation Establishment decades ago. A bitter failure that had soured his disposition like curdled milk and fueled a grasping, resentful ambition that he now sought to live out vicariously through his more talented offspring.

Or, rather, through one of his offspring.

My younger brother, Jiang Feng, with his decent, if unexceptional, Earth-attribute spiritual root and his ruthless, grasping nature that so perfectly mirrored Father's own, had always been the golden child.

The focus of all of Father's hopes.

His resources.

His painfully obvious favoritism.

As for me, Jiang Li, the elder son? The one cursed with the five-element spiritual root that was tantamount to being a cultivation cripple in the eyes of the world…

I had been an early, profound disappointment. Then, a source of constant, simmering embarrassment. And finally – an utter irrelevance, a piece of inconvenient family baggage to be shunted aside and forgotten.

As it became increasingly, painfully clear that my spiritual root was indeed a piece of unmitigated, unredeemable trash, offering no discernible path to advancement, no hope of bringing glory or profit to the Jiang name, my father's attention, and his affection – what little of it there had ever been to begin with – had shifted entirely to Jiang Feng.

I became a ghost in my own home, a resentful shadow flitting through the opulent, suffocating halls of the vast Jiang estate in Yuhang City, my presence tolerated only due to the lingering, old-fashioned sentimentality of my powerful Mother.

My arranged exile to Qingshan had been, I suspected, as much a relief to him as it was intended to be a lesson for me.

Out of sight, out of mind. A family embarrassment conveniently swept under the provincial rug.

"Lin Ruolan! Is that you, girl?"

Father's voice grated across the miles between us, devoid of any pleasantries, sharp with an almost palpable irritation.

"Find that useless whelp of a son of mine and put him on this instant! I need to speak with him! Urgently!"

I leaned forward, my voice dripping with a false, saccharine sweetness that I knew, from long and bitter experience, would infuriate him far more than any open defiance.

"Hello, Father. Such a pleasant surprise! I'm right here, alive and well, if you must know – thank you for asking! Now, what pressing matter of state could possibly require your august attention and interrupt my important work here in the thriving metropolis of Qingshan Town? Surely this call wouldn't be about the small matter of me finally ending that Su engagement, would it?"

There was a pregnant pause.

Then, a sputtering sound – like a drowning badger gargling gravel – echoed from the talisman.

"You did WHAT?! … Never mind! Sod your blasted engagement! We'll deal with that bit of your idiocy later! We have much, much more serious problems right now!"

Another pause followed, filled only with his heavy, agitated breathing, each rasp carrying clearly across the crackling connection, painting a vivid picture of his mounting panic.

"Earlier today… we were approached by a direct representative of the Imperial Palace. Her Highness, the Eighth Princess, Long Xueyue, is graciously offering our Jiang family an exclusive, long-term procurement contract for a vast range of rare and exotic cultivation supplies…."

I feigned delighted surprise, injecting a note of almost manic cheerfulness into my voice.

"Well, that sounds like wonderful news, Father! Congratulations are most certainly in order! Our Jiang family truly is unequaled before the Heavens! An increase in status is surely in our future; perhaps… even a noble title?"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR INSIPID, IDIOTIC JOKES, YOU UTTER IMBECILE!" he thundered, his voice cracking with a mixture of fury and sheer terror that made the talisman physically tremble upon the table.

"Don't you understand the gravity of this situation?!" he half-whispered. "You know damn well that our family only has reliable access to a few low-grade ores from our mines in the Peripheral Provinces, and, perhaps, supply lines for the more common spirit herbs. We couldn't possibly fulfill such a contract! Not in a thousand years! But…"

He sighed, seemingly defeated.

"…But I dare not say no to a member of the Royal family, either! Don't you see? It's a death sentence for us – either way! And, when I… gently… probed as to what prompted such active… interest… from the Palace, I was informed that our family was being given this 'unparalleled honor' due to your recent actions of 'exemplary service' during the Fallen Star City auction!"

He paused, before focusing his ire upon me with a new enthusiasm.

"You idiot child! By all the demons of the Nine Deepest Hells and the unblinking eyes of Ten Thousand Buddhas. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?!"

I couldn't help it.

I chuckled.

A genuine, hearty, unrestrained laugh that seemed to echo around the dining hall, much to Ruolan's alarm and Yue's poorly concealed amusement.

This, predictably, prompted another round of furious and rather inventive cursing from the other end of the connection.

Wiping a tear of mirth from my eye, I finally managed to interject.

"Father, Father, please, calm yourself. Such agitation is unbecoming of a future procurer to a Royal household!"

I let my voice become smooth, reassuring, the voice of a man in complete, unassailable control.

"While the specifics of my recent… endeavors… are perhaps best not discussed over such a… primitive… long-distance communication talisman transmission – one that any nearby Golden Core expert with even a modicum of skill could simply listen in upon at will – I assure you, there is absolutely no cause for alarm… In fact,"

-- I leaned back in my chair, adopting a tone of supreme, unshakeable confidence that I knew would either soothe him or drive him into a fresh paroxysm of apocalyptic rage (a pleasant outcome either way, as far as I was concerned!) –

"our Jiang family is indeed on the precipice of unprecedented prosperity and influence."

"It is perfectly acceptable," I continued calmly, "for you to agree to the Princess's contract. All you have to do to fulfill it – is simply forward all of her orders directly to me, here in Qingshan."

I paused for dramatic effect, savoring the stunned, sputtering silence from the other end.

"You see, Father, while I, Jiang Li, am still alive and well, I shall be able to fulfill the Princess's any desire. However outrageous, however exotic, however… capricious… her requests may seem. Quite frankly, there is nothing she can possibly ask for that I will not be able to provide."

There was another long, sputtering silence.

Then:

"Have you… finally lost your damn mind completely, boy? Are you drunk on spirit wine again? Have you been partaking of the mushrooms in the Frontier swamps? Of all the times for your usual nonsensical, reputation-destroying…"

Yue, who had been listening with an expression of fascinated amusement, leaned into the talisman's range, her voice firm, clear, and carrying the undeniable weight of her Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment cultivation.

"Uncle Hongji, it's Yue. It's not nonsense."

Father was genuinely surprised now, his agitation momentarily forgotten, replaced by a bewildered confusion.

"…Yue? Is that truly you? But… weren't you off exploring a demonic ruin in the Cloud Dream Marsh? What in the blazes are you doing in Qingshan, with that… that boy?"

"Plans change, Uncle," Yue replied smoothly, a hint of laughter in her voice that I knew would both reassure and infuriate him.

"I'm back! And, while I won't try to explain the specifics of Little Li's… situation… over the talisman connection, I can vouch for him. Unequivocally. As difficult as it is to believe, he indeed has the ability to deliver on his promises. The family can, and should, trust him in this matter."

Another long pause.

Clearly, Yue's word, backed by her impressive cultivation talent and a certain… reputation for straightforward, brutal honesty, commanded a level of respect within the family that I, the 'trash,' could only have dreamed of achieving in a dozen lifetimes.

Finally, Father's voice came again: strained, hesitant, but the raw panic in it noticeably lessened, replaced by a grudging, bewildered acceptance.

"…Very well. If you say so, Yue… But you had better know what you're doing. This is not some provincial squabble over a few taels of silver. This is the Imperial Family we are talking about! And… I will expect a full explanation delivered to your mother, myself, and the family Elders. In person. As soon as possible."

"We'll be there in ten days, Father," I replied cheerfully.

"In the meantime, please, do send the Royal representative my way. Or better yet… just give them your communication talisman to use to contact me directly. I will happily listen to any and all requests from Her Highness' staff personally."

I paused for dramatic effect.

"Oh, and… have them remit the payments directly to the Main Branch in Yuhang. Trust me, Father," I added, unable to resist a final, theatrical flourish, "spirit stones are the very last thing I find myself lacking at the moment."

A disbelieving silence stretched from the other end of the connection – so profound that I could almost hear the gears grinding in his poor, overloaded mind.

Then, I heard a resigned, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire Jiang lineage. A sound of a man surrendering to forces far beyond his comprehension.

"You'd better be right about this, child," he half-whispered.

"For all of our sakes… you'd better be right."

The connection cut with a faint, sputtering crackle – the talisman's sickly green light dimming into inert, unresponsive jade.