Morning in the Jiang Estate
The early morning sun filtered through the crimson silk curtains, casting long, trembling shadows upon the jade-tiled floors of the Jiang Clan's ancestral hall. Incense coils burned low, their smoke winding like snakes around the carved dragon pillars that loomed over the silent room.
A subtle shift had taken hold of the Jiang Estate.
The five elders of the clan sat in a semicircle before the dais, their expressions tight and cautious. They had sensed it—the change in the air, the cold certainty beneath the familiar face that now sat upon the matriarch's throne.
Yuerou, still cloaked in the guise of formar Matriarch Qiu Lingxuan, stood silently beside him, her expression unreadable.
But all eyes were on Jiang Taizu—or rather, Gu Changge in disguise—as he sat in regal silence, every motion exuding an effortless authority that had never before belonged to the young clan head.
"From today onward," Gu Changge said calmly, voice low yet echoing across the hall, "matters of discipline, resource allocation, and external correspondence will no longer be handled individually by the Five Elders. All such authority shall be centralized under this seat."
A silence followed, sharp and cutting.
Four of the elders exchanged wary glances but said nothing. They could feel it. Something in Jiang Taizu had changed. The timidity of youth was gone, replaced by the cold calm of someone who knew he could command and would not tolerate defiance.
But then—one voice broke the stillness.
"Presumptuous," spat Elder Jiang Weishan, his tone gravelly and laced with contempt.
He stepped forward, his long grey beard swaying with the force of his anger. His eyes, still bright despite his age, glared at the young man on the dais.
"You dare to issue decrees as though you were an Emperor? You forget your place, boy. You forget who you are."
The other elders stiffened. Jiang Weishan was not merely an elder—he was the younger brother of Jiang Taizu's father, a man once favored to be patriarch before fate had chosen another. His grudge ran deep, older than many in the room.
In Jiang Taizu's past, his cultivation—mid Gold Core Realm—had made open confrontation unwise. But Gu Changge was no longer bound by that weakness.
He rose slowly, expression unreadable. "You have long harbored discontent," he said. "Your ambitions have turned to poison."
Weishan sneered. "Don't wrap it in poetry. I oppose you because you are unfit. Your father stole the position that should have been mine. And you—wormspawn of a thief—think you can command me?"
Gasps rang out.
Gu Changge's eyes narrowed. "You've said enough."
He turned to the guards lining the hall. "Seize him. For harboring treasonous ties with the Empress's spies."
The accusation struck like a thunderclap.
Weishan roared, "Lies!" and swept his sleeve outward. Qi erupted from his body in a wave—Late Gold Core Realm, turbulent and angry.
Two guards were flung backward, blood spraying from their mouths.
"You dare accuse me of treason? On what proof? Because you fear a voice of reason?"
But Gu Changge did not flinch.
He moved.
Faster than the elder could react, he descended from the dais like a shadow. His palm shimmered with eerie crimson-black energy—an unnatural mix of yin blood essence and abyssal force. He struck.
Boom—!
Their auras collided. The ancestral hall shook. The painted dragons cracked under the pressure.
Weishan staggered, eyes wide. Blood leaked from his mouth. He reeled back, pressing a trembling hand to his chest.
"You—!" he gasped. "When did you—?"
Gu Changge stood tall, robes unruffled. His aura blazed now—Late Gold Core, sharp and domineering. Cold.
Weishan collapsed to his knees.
"I gave you a chance," Gu Changge said softly. "Now, you are nothing."
He pressed two fingers to the air. A seal flared—burning gold.
Weishan howled as his cultivation was sealed, his meridians forcibly locked down. The sound echoed across the estate.
"Lock him in the dungeon," Gu Changge commanded. His voice was ice. "Should he escape, I will have your heads. That is not a threat—it is a certainty."
The guards obeyed without hesitation this time. The old elder, once untouchable, was dragged away screaming of injustice.
The room fell into stunned silence.
One of the remaining elders—Elder Mo—shifted uneasily. "This… this is not the Jiang Taizu we once knew…"
Gu Changge's gaze turned toward him.
Elder Mo flinched. Whatever he meant to say withered in his throat.
The four elders lowered their heads, one by one.
"We obey the will of the patriarch."
"Good," Gu Changge said. He returned to his seat.
Yuerou smiled faintly beside him.
---
Villain Value +500
"Power claimed by blood is still power."
---
Lin Tian pov-
Morning sunlight trickled through the high-arched windows of General Yun Fei's manor, glinting faintly off the dust motes swirling in the air.
Lin Tian sat cross-legged in the guest chamber, sweat lining his brow despite the calm stillness around him.
His gaze, however, was anything but calm. It sharpened—like a blade held in check.
> "There's more to this kingdom than martial strength. If I want to make a real move—if I want to know where the vault lies—then I need more than a sword."
His thoughts turned not with admiration, but with calculation—toward Yun Xiaoyue's movements in the sparring garden. She moved like wind and struck like iron. But even blades followed rules. What he needed was the board itself.
> "The Royal Vault… it must exist. Somewhere at the empire's heart. If I can find a whisper, a layout—any flaw in the seal…"
The jade ring on his finger pulsed faintly. The old voice stirred like smoke curling in a forgotten lamp.
"You've been thinking dangerous thoughts, boy."
Lin Tian didn't flinch.
> "Not dangerous. Necessary."
The spirit fell silent.
---
Later that morning, Lin Tian stood before General Yun Fei in the war chamber. Spears and halberds lined the walls like silent sentinels, and a cold breeze stirred crimson banners emblazoned with the Cloudsteel emblem.
"General Yun," he said with a respectful bow, "your hospitality honors me. I would ask one more favor—if it's not too bold."
Yun Fei arched a brow. "Speak."
"I wish to learn more about this kingdom's past—its wars, its history. My father once told me: a blade without knowledge is just iron waiting to rust."
Lin Tian met the general's eyes, voice steady. "If I'm to grow, I must understand not just how to fight… but why."
Yun Fei studied him for a long moment. "Many ask for my sword techniques. You ask for scrolls."
"I believe the path of scrolls may yield more, for now."
The general gave a quiet grunt of approval. Then, turning to a polished chest near the war table, he withdrew a brass-cast token stamped with the Cloudsteel Army sigil.
"Show this at the archive hall. The guards will let you pass. But understand this—some jade slips are sealed by formation. Protected."
Lin Tian bowed. "I'll touch only what I have the right to."
"Good," Yun Fei said. "See that you do."
---
The military archives stood like a stone mausoleum of secrets—cold, vast, and still.
Shelves of blackwood and jade stretched deep into the chamber, each row lined with scrolls and slips humming with latent qi. Golden characters floated beside many, hovering mid-air like fireflies frozen in time:
Siege of Bloodvale. Southern Rebellion Suppression. Formation Diagrams of the Third Dynasty.
Incense coils burned at each corner, lacing the air with sandalwood and ash.
Lin Tian walked slowly. Purposefully. His eyes skimmed across titles, but he wasn't here for tactics. Not for history.
He was here for a mistake.
And he found one.
Between two dusty geography records, nearly hidden, sat a jade slip glowing faintly within a four-petaled sigil array. Faint. Defensive. Misplaced.
The ring spirit's voice came low and sharp.
"That shouldn't be here. Sloppy."
"Can we bypass the seal?" Lin Tian whispered.
"With care. It's not a combat array. Just deterrent. You'll need to shape your spiritual current—match its rhythm, nudge the petals half a turn."
It took ten minutes. Every scrap of Lin Tian's spiritual sense. A single breath out of sync, and it would shatter—or worse, alert.
But then—the sigil flickered. Shifted.
The jade slip dimmed.
And what lay within…
---
Inside the Jade Slip
A map unfolded in his mind—not ink on parchment, but a living imprint. A spiritual carving etched into jade.
The Imperial Capital.
Every street. Every courtyard. Even the tunnels beneath the palace grounds.
Lin Tian's heart thudded.
He zoomed in mentally—searching. Digging.
There.
Golden Phoenix Palace.
Beneath it, traced in ancient vermilion glyphs:
> "Royal Vault – Five-Level Spirit Seal"
Each level described in terrifying precision.
First Layer: Soul-sensitive barrier keyed to fear fluctuations.
Second Layer: Array of Killing Intent—adaptive and self-aware.
Third Layer: Mirror Field—hallucinatory space reflecting intruders' deepest memories.
Fourth Layer: Soundless Labyrinth—spatial rooms that shift with no pattern.
Fifth Layer: Imperial Core Seal—bound to the Empress's bloodline. Non-negotiable.
The ring spirit spoke slowly, grave.
"You're not ready. Neither am I. We couldn't scratch the edge of the fifth layer."
Lin Tian was silent for a long time.
Then:
> "I don't need to scratch it."
"I need to understand it. Predict it. Plan."
He sat cross-legged on the floor, the phantom vault map echoing in his mind.
> "No brute force. No alarms. I'll study every step of the labyrinth until it becomes mine."
"Then…"
"I'll walk through it."
---
Back in the Archive
Lin Tian returned the jade slip exactly as he found it, re-sealing the array with meticulous care. The glow returned—harmless, unreadable.
For the rest of the morning, he buried himself in unrelated scrolls:
Tactical routes from the Fourth Imperial War. Food logistics for siege campaigns. Reports on unrest in the outer provinces.
Each detail was a thread.
Each thread, a potential noose.
When he stepped out into the daylight, the sun had risen high, washing the manor walls in gold.
To the casual eye, Lin Tian was the same—quiet, well-mannered, unassuming.
But inside?
A storm was building.
Not of muscle.
But of mind.
And that… was far more dangerous.
---
[End of Chapter 23]
---