“The first order of business is, of course, the newcomer among us. Everyone, please welcome Fellow Daoist Mo Jian. He has joined our small group as the overseer of the Incense Forest.”
Mo Jian had known this was coming. No matter how powerful a person became, no matter how much magic they wielded, there were certain inevitabilities no one escaped. Introductions, for example. You would think it might be less awkward among people who had lived for centuries, but the moment still reminded him painfully of being the newest hire at some mundane job. The same sidelong glances. The same muted shuffling. The same collective uncertainty about what, exactly, ought to be said.
Mo Jian himself had no idea what to say, and more importantly, no particular desire to say anything at all. In the end, he settled for what he hoped read as regal composure: a single, measured nod. The gesture earned him half-hearted acknowledgements in return; slight inclinations of heads and one lazy, barely committed wave. Gu Daisheng did not appear the least bit troubled by the lukewarm reception. If anything, his smile widened, almost radiant, and he clapped his hands together with cheerful finality.
“Marvelous,” he declared, without bothering to explain what exactly was so marvelous about the exchange.
Then he turned toward one of the only two women present. “Madam Tai, would you like to begin?”
Madam Tai, old and withered yet perfectly straight-backed, gave a single nod. Her cane struck the floor once before she spoke. “There is little to report, Fellow Daoist Gu. The Abyssal Caverns remain unchanged since our last meeting, and the quotas continue to be met faithfully. I see no danger of that situation changing.” Her voice sounded exactly as Mo Jian had imagined it would: unmistakably that of an old woman, dry and steady with age.
“Miao Bu has requested an increase in his share of Infernal Metallic Ore, and I have already forwarded the request to you. I support it, if that carries any weight. His soldiers have been accommodating and helpful, and such a minor favor costs us nothing.”
Gu Daisheng nodded, utterly unsurprised, though several people shifted at the mention of the request.
“If you believe it wise,” he said smoothly, “then I certainly have no objections. We shall proceed as you suggest.”
Madam Tai settled back onto her cushion with visible satisfaction, and another cultivator immediately picked up the thread of discussion. Mo Jian did not recognize the man. He looked more like a genial merchant than a cultivator of immense power, save for his extraordinarily long eyebrows, which hung past the sides of his face like pale strands of silk.
“The Ether Garden is also faring well,” the man said pleasantly. “The allotment of spirit herbs distributed to the floor and to each Fellow Daoist has not increased, but I am pleased to report that we have secured several seeds previously absent from our collection. The Frost Flame Zoysia and the Agate Rattan Vine. Once they mature sufficiently, they should prove quite useful to all of us.”
This announcement drew far more enthusiasm than anything that had been said thus far. One or two cultivators even leaned forward, eyes bright with interest. Mo Jian himself was mildly surprised. He recognized both spirit herbs by name, and each was exceedingly rare, possessing extraordinary effects.
Gu Daisheng nodded again, looking just as delighted as before.
"Good, good. Your stewardship of the Ether Garden has been a constant source of comfort for this entire floor, Brother Wen. Do not hesitate to seek me out if you require assistance."
Brother Wen inclined his head and settled back onto his cushion. The cultivator seated beside him immediately leaned over, beginning a quiet conversation with him in hushed tones.
Another voice spoke up from across the chamber.
“I am afraid the Terracotta Army is not doing nearly so well. The rumors about the Yuan gathering into another great horde have them all thoroughly agitated. It is taking everything I have to keep them from marching to the Great Wall on their own. I even had to ask several soldiers from the Tiger Army to spar with them just to calm them down.”
Mo Jian turned toward the speaker. The cultivator was broad-shouldered and heavily built, with a thick golden necklace resting against his chest. There was little outwardly remarkable about him besides his cultivation, which, like everyone else present, rested firmly within the Nascent Soul realm.
Gu Daisheng stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“Remind me, Brother Shan. It has been nearly two centuries since the Terracotta Army last saw deployment, has it not?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “No wonder they have become so restless. The spirit beast souls bound within them possess no outlet for their resentment except battle. Any prolonged denial of combat must feel unbearable to them.”
Another man snorted. This cultivator appeared young and rather handsome, though his luminous silver hair lent him a faintly absurd air, as though he were trying too hard to appear exceptional.
“The Terracotta Army consists of mere Foundation Establishment golems,” he said lazily. “No competent cultivator should struggle to control them. You are too kind, Brother Gu, covering for Shan Qixi’s incompetence.”
Shan Qixi's face immediately flushed a deep, violent purple. "You-" he snapped, half-rising from his cushion.
Gu Daisheng cut a hand through the air before the argument could take root. The sound that followed was soft yet unmistakable, like a blade drawing cleanly through cloth. "Let us not quarrel," he said, his tone mild but carrying.
The two cultivators subsided at once. The silver-haired man leaned back with a satisfied smile, while Shan Qixi looked moments away from murder. Fortunately, another voice spoke before the tension could settle. It was Chi Yanxiao, guardian of the stairways. His voice was loud and booming, rolling through the chamber like a crashing tide.
“Not much to report from my side either. A few idiots thought they could sneak from the first level up to the second, and I dealt with them. Nei Pan and I also tried making another attempt to catalogue the illusions on the Dream Stairs, but that went nowhere. The furthest we got was-”
He raised an eyebrow toward Nei Pan, the childlike cultivator seated beside the table.
Nei Pan grimaced before answering sourly, “Fourteen thousand ninety-two distinct illusions, and that was only on the sixteenth stair. Who knows how many exist in total.”
Chi Yanxiao continued without missing a beat.
"Right, that." Chi Yanxiao shrugged with the ease of a man wholly unbothered by numbers. "Other than that, everything's the same. The same steady stream of people climbing up and stumbling back down. Nothing has changed."
And so the meeting continued. Mo Jian listened with growing fascination as each person present delivered reports concerning some aspect of the floor’s administration or events unfolding within their sphere of influence. The sheer scale of it all was quietly staggering. Armies, gardens, mines, stairways, resource quotas, territorial concerns; every matter discussed so casually would have been enough to dominate entire sects elsewhere.
When a brief lull emerged between reports, Mo Jian took the opportunity to speak as well.
“The Incense Forest is functioning smoothly,” he said. “The previous overseers left behind an excellent foundation, so there has been very little for me to do.”
Since Gu Daisheng himself had personally supervised the forest before Mo Jian’s arrival, the compliment was carefully aimed flattery.
Gu Daisheng did indeed appear pleased. Though, to be fair, the man always appeared pleased, so Mo Jian could not tell how much of that expression had actually been earned. Taking advantage of the silence that followed, Mo Jian decided to strike while the opportunity was still fresh. He cupped his hands toward Gu Daisheng.
“Forgive me for asking out of turn, Fellow Daoist Gu, but I have a question.”
Gu Daisheng smiled indulgently. “There is no need for such formality, Brother Mo. You are a peer to everyone in this room. Please, ask freely.”
Mo Jian nodded graciously, as though he genuinely believed those words.
“I was wondering about the process for bringing outsiders into the Palace. I was told that every cultivator assigned here is permitted an entourage, scaled according to cultivation realm?”
Several of the Nascent Soul cultivators who had been listening immediately lost interest at the topic, turning away as though the matter bored them. Only Gu Daisheng maintained his warm smile.
“It is quite simple,” he replied. “Originally, the allowance existed so cultivators assigned to posts within the Palace could bring along family members, companions, or dependents. The limits are generally set at three for Qi Condensation cultivators, five for Foundation Establishment, ten for Core Formation, and twenty for Nascent Soul cultivators.”
He spread his hands casually. “However, we are rather relaxed about such things here. If Brother Mo wishes to bring in more than twenty people, I can permit it.”
Mo Jian listened carefully, his expression polite and calm.
“The only requirement,” Gu Daisheng continued, “is that each person undergo a single examination by the overseer of the second level before being granted entry. But that is merely a formality. Brother Mo may rest assured that I would not reject anyone without good reason.”
Mo Jian nodded slowly, finding the explanation extremely illuminating. The process was both easier and more restrictive than he had feared, yet nothing Gu Daisheng described posed any obstacle for the people Mo Jian intended to bring. In truth, even five spots would have been sufficient. Twenty was more than enough. He cupped his hands once more in thanks. Gu Daisheng answered with another easy smile before turning his attention elsewhere, and the procession of reports resumed.
Only after everyone had finished speaking – save for Meng Zizai, who remained asleep and whom no one seemed eager to disturb – did Gu Daisheng move on to the next matter.
“It seems everything is proceeding smoothly,” he announced. “Now, as usual, I open the floor for general exchange. If any Fellow Daoists have goods they wish to buy or sell, please step forward. As always, transactions may be conducted through spirit stones or material exchanges, with values to be assessed by Brother Gwei.”
He had barely finished gesturing toward Gwei, who had already abandoned his painting and looked visibly excited for this portion of the gathering, when Celestial Maiden Zhuo stepped forward. She was the second woman present in the chamber and oversaw pill concoction within this level of the palace. Mo Jian had already made special note of her during the earlier reports, partly because control over pills was important to any cultivator, and partly because of her title. Celestial Maiden was an archaic honorific for female cultivators. Traditionally, it carried hierarchical implications, used primarily when addressing women of higher standing, since calling them “fairy” could sometimes be interpreted as disrespectfully familiar. In modern times, however, the distinction had mostly faded into little more than an old-fashioned embellishment.
Celestial Maiden Zhuo herself appeared young, with skin pale as fresh snow and hair pinned into a severe, unyielding bun. Her nose and mouth were extraordinarily fine; so delicate, in fact, that Mo Jian briefly wondered whether it was the result of some beauty custom foreign to him. She offered the room a shallow bow before raising one slender hand.
"I hope my Fellow Daoists will forgive my eagerness, but I shall go first. I am in urgent need of a vial of Divine Flow Paste and am willing to exchange this Ninefold Spirit Embryo Pill in return."
Mo Jian straightened immediately. He was far from the only one. The Ninefold Spirit Embryo Pill was famous: a radiant gold-and-violet pill reputed to nourish the Nascent Soul like spiritual milk. It could stabilize future breakthroughs and strengthen the soul against possession techniques. Mo Jian had only ever heard of it in stories. And now someone was offering one openly.
He wanted it. Unfortunately, he possessed no Divine Flow Paste whatsoever. All he could do was watch as several cultivators immediately burst into competing offers.
“Celestial Maiden, I can offer three hundred high-grade spirit stones-”
“Would you accept Elemental Flow Jade instead? Its purity may not equal Divine Flow Paste, but I possess five vials-”
“If you reserve it for me, I can make a trip to the-”
Celestial Maiden Zhuo raised a hand, silencing the flood of voices. There was a determined look in her eyes.
“My apologies, Fellow Daoists, but I will exchange only for Divine Flow Paste and nothing else. My need is urgent. Otherwise, I would never have offered this pill.” Her expression tightened faintly. “I had originally intended to keep it for myself.”
A disappointed murmur spread through the chamber. Several cultivators sank back onto their cushions with visible reluctance, though a few still wore calculating expressions, as though wondering whether they could somehow acquire Divine Flow Paste quickly enough to return before the exchange concluded. Mo Jian remained silent, but inwardly he found himself curious. Divine Flow Paste was not something a cultivator sought lightly. It was an exceedingly rare spiritual medium used to harmonize conflicting flows of qi and soul essence. Most commonly, it was employed when healing damage related to cultivation deviation, fractured meridians, or unstable spiritual fusion.
Combined with the fact that Celestial Maiden Zhuo was willing to part with a Ninefold Spirit Embryo Pill for a single vial…
Whatever problem she faced was likely severe. Gu Daisheng, however, did not pry. He merely smiled pleasantly from his seat at the head of the chamber.
“It seems Fellow Daoist Zhuo’s request cannot be fulfilled immediately,” he said. “Still, everyone should keep the matter in mind. Divine Flow Paste is difficult to obtain, but not impossible.”
Celestial Maiden Zhuo inclined her head in acknowledgment and stepped back. The moment she sat down, another cultivator rose almost eagerly, as though afraid someone else might seize the opportunity first. It was the silver-haired cultivator who had mocked Shan Qixi earlier. He flicked a sleeve dramatically before speaking.
“I have recently acquired a fragment of Heavenly Thundersteel from an exchange with a commander of the Lion Army stationed in the Inner Court. It is suitable for refining lightning-aspected treasures or tempering body cultivation arts. I am willing to exchange it for a high-grade soul defense artifact or an equivalent material.”
At once, several interested gazes sharpened. Even Mo Jian paid attention. Heavenly Thundersteel was valuable enough on its own, but lightning-aspected materials were notoriously difficult to obtain because of how destructive heavenly lightning naturally was. Most such materials were consumed or annihilated during their formation. And given the nature of the Heaven Enshrouding Ding, this particular material was exceptionally well-suited to him. If he could obtain it, the ding might grow stronger after refinement.
The silver-haired cultivator seemed to enjoy the sudden focus directed at him. His smile widened faintly as he produced a jagged shard of dark metal from his sleeve. Pale arcs of electricity crawled across its surface with soft crackling sounds, illuminating his fingers in ghostly blue-white flashes.
The atmosphere in the chamber shifted subtly. The earlier administrative meeting had carried the dull weight of routine obligation. This, however, was what truly interested powerful cultivators: rare treasures, rare techniques, and above all, rare opportunities. Mo Jian watched quietly, observing not only the objects being traded, but the people themselves. Who became excited. Who remained indifferent. Who hid their greed well, and who failed to conceal it at all. In many ways, that information might prove more valuable than any treasure exchanged within this chamber.
One after another, cultivators stepped forward to bargain for some coveted material or elusive resource. Many returned to their cushions empty-handed, either because no one present possessed what they sought, or because the offered price failed to satisfy them. It also answered a question Mo Jian had been quietly nursing. Why hold a private exchange at all when an official Exchange Platform already existed? The answer was now apparent. If even a gathering of Nascent Soul cultivators could not reliably fulfill one another's requests, placing those same requests before the general public would hardly improve matters. Some resources were simply too rare for ordinary markets.
As the exchange continued, Mo Jian's thoughts began to move with purpose. There was an opening here, if he timed it correctly. The moment the next cultivator finished speaking, he rose from his cushion and moved to the center of the chamber. By now, the initial surge of enthusiasm had faded somewhat, and no one scrambled to speak over him. He cupped his hands in greeting before producing a curled, brown root. Fine hairs along its surface writhed faintly, flaring with hues of red and deep orange as though smoldering from within.
A ripple of surprise and excitement moved through the room.
"A Yang Smoldering Ginseng," someone breathed.
That name alone was sufficient to stir a low wave of murmurs through the hall.
Mo Jian allowed a faint smile. "It is indeed a Yang Smoldering Ginseng, as Fellow Daoists can see. I am willing to exchange it for pills suitable for a Nascent Soul cultivator, or for a lightning-attribute natural treasure of at least rank eight."
The response was immediate, with voices colliding in a disorderly rush.
"I have a vial of Jade Marrow Pills I can excha-"
"I can offer five hundred high-grade spirit stones-"
"Fellow Daoist, I have another piece of Heavenly Thundersteel. Though only rank seven, it should be sufficient to-"
Gu Daisheng clapped his hands. A wave of qi rolled through the chamber, cutting off every voice at once. Silence settled over the room as all eyes turned toward him.
"Let us be civilized, Fellow Daoists," he said mildly. "We can make our offers one by one."
His gaze drifted to the root hovering in Mo Jian's palm. "And on that note, I am quite jealous, Brother Mo. A Yang Smoldering Ginseng is a rare find by any measure. Pills refined from it can strengthen the body and even extend lifespan. The last time I saw one was when the Daqin envoys presented gifts to the court ninety-eight years ago, and even then, it was promptly forwarded to the Inner Court."
He paused. "I would be willing to offer a vial of Azure Cloud Soul Pills in exchange."
A brief silence followed. Then someone spoke up.
"A Yang Smoldering Ginseng was presented by Daqin? I don't recall hearing about that, Brother Gu."
Gu Daisheng waved a hand. "They use a different name for it, which is where the confusion comes in. They call it a Phlegethon Root."
The assembled cultivators nodded at that. Mo Jian, however, felt his brows twitch upward ever so slightly. That was an uncomfortably accurate name. He had found the root, along with several others like it, in the Netherworld Domain, and he and Bai Ning had gathered them together. Fortunately, it was not a material unique to that realm alone, which was precisely why he had dared to bring it out here.
"A Purple Lightning Kirin's eyeball."
The voice that spoke was lazy and unhurried. Mo Jian felt a jolt move through him as he registered who had offered it. Meng Zizai had woken up.
Every head in the room turned. Even the other cultivators looked subtly unsettled, most finding sudden reasons to study the walls or the floor rather than meet the man's gaze.
Gu Daisheng alone kept his smile. "You've awakened, Brother Meng!"
Meng Zizai yawned, entirely unbothered by the reaction he’d drawn. “Of course. With all the noise you people are making, how could I sleep?” His gaze drifted, landing on Mo Jian. “Still, it wasn’t a complete waste. I saw something interesting.”
His eyes met Mo Jian’s. “How about it? Sell it to me for a Purple Lightning Kirin’s eyeball. A fair deal.”
Mo Jian glanced around the chamber. No one else appeared inclined to bid further. In fact, he suspected most of them would quietly withdraw from the exchange now that Meng Zizai had shown interest. But he had not come here for spirit stones, nor even for materials, at least not primarily. He had other goals. He shook his head and, instead, sent the root drifting toward Gu Daisheng, who caught it with faint surprise.
"Many thanks, but no, Fellow Daoist. Brother Gu's offer suits me better."
A collective, barely audible exhalation seemed to leave the room all at once. Meng Zizai's lazy eyes sharpened. The faint redness at his nose seemed to deepen, like pressure building behind still water. Mo Jian held his gaze without flinching. After a long, unhurried moment, Meng Zizai scoffed and leaned back once more.
"Whatever."
Gu Daisheng sent the vial of pills floating toward Mo Jian. He glanced briefly at Meng Zizai, who was already reclining as though preparing to sleep again, before raising an eyebrow.
"Are you certain, Brother Mo?" he asked. "A Yang Smoldering Ginseng is no ordinary treasure. If Brother Meng's Kirin eyeball suits you better, you should take it. I would hate for you to underestimate what you are parting with."
Mo Jian smiled, cupping his hands as he stored the vial away. "You are too kind, Brother Gu. But this exchange suits me just fine. If you are worried I am being shortchanged, simply continue to think well of me. That will be enough."
He paused, then added almost casually, "Besides, I possess a treasure that far outstrips the ginseng in value."
No one in the chamber reacted outwardly. Every cultivator present was a Nascent Soul expert who had lived for centuries. Not a single one so much as flinched. A few showed mild curiosity; one or two even smiled faintly. Nei Pan offered a polite, measured chuckle.
Mo Jian took his seat again with an easy smile, and another cultivator rose to continue the exchange. He kept his expression pleasant and his posture relaxed. However… that reaction had told him everything. A newly arrived cultivator had just casually declared possession of a treasure of extraordinary value. Not one of these ancient, calculating minds had expressed doubt. Not one had shown surprise. Not one had thought to ask what it was, and powerful cultivators, in Mo Jian's experience, were not inclined toward incuriosity.
Which meant they already knew about the gui. All of them.
He let the thought settle without trying to qualify or soften it. If it was true, then the situation was different from what he had assumed on arrival. The gathering still felt easy and routine on the surface – polite conversation, mild exchanges – but it no longer felt the same to him. He wasn’t just a newcomer under casual observation. They had already formed judgments about him.
Mistake, he thought, and continued to smile.
Whether his or theirs, only time would tell.
…………………………………………………………….
After the exchange portion of the meeting concluded, the assembled cultivators drifted into informal clusters, mingling at their leisure.
Mo Jian soon found himself in conversation with several Nascent Soul peers. The topics stayed largely inoffensive: his recent adjustments to life here, impressions of the gathering, but even so, it helped him become more familiar with the people present. A few showed no interest in socializing at all, and Mo Jian courteously returned the sentiment by engaging only with those who did.
That was how he ended up speaking with Gu Daisheng and Chi Yanxiao, and, in the course of it, finally obtained the answer to the third question he had come with to this meeting.
"…and generally, every floor assigns a couple of representatives to speak for its interests at court. But the second level has made an enemy of Yue Shouming, and so we find ourselves effectively excluded from those proceedings."
That was interesting, and not at all what he had been expecting.
“Who is this Yue Shouming,” Mo Jian asked, “that he can wield such broad influence even against all the fellow Daoists assembled here? Is he a late-stage Nascent Soul elder, Brother Gu, that even you must be wary of?”
Gu Daisheng snorted, his manner relaxed and openly dismissive. "Hardly. He is at the same stage as you, Brother Mo, merely different in nature. He is a bootlicker in service to the crown prince. He has been granted authority over organizing court attendance as part of that arrangement. He cannot afford to offend anyone of real consequence, but he takes particular pleasure in being petty toward me, because I once refused to let him prey on a servant here. Now he is punishing the entire floor for it."
He shrugged. “Not that I regret it. We can manage being distant from the court for a while, but I wouldn’t sleep well if I let him do as he pleases.”
Chi Yanxiao nodded gruffly. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t let that cretin ever set foot on the second level again. But since he’s the prince’s man, we have no choice. Still, Mo Jian, no one on this floor has ever opposed Brother Gu’s decision. We all stand by it. There is no support here for someone like Yue Shouming.”
There was a faint edge of warning in his tone, as though reminding Mo Jian to align himself accordingly.
Mo Jian merely inclined his head, masking his amusement. “What exactly did Yue Shouming do, if you don’t mind me asking, to earn such universal disdain? Is it only because of his connection to the crown prince?”
That alone should not have been sufficient. Whatever private reservations the cultivators of the palace might harbor, none of them would be foolish enough to openly cross the crown prince without compelling reason.
Gu Daisheng and Chi Yanxiao exchanged a glance, their expressions tightening as if they had tasted something bitter. At last, Gu Daisheng exhaled.
“It is not something I like to speak of,” he said, “but since you asked… Yue Shouming is one of those who prefers young children.”
His gaze stayed steady and unflinching, leaving no ambiguity about the meaning.
Mo Jian felt a sick feeling in his stomach. “No… surely not. Why would anyone tolerate such a person?”
Gu Daisheng’s expression darkened. “Because he is useful and discreet. That is half the reason he has the crown prince’s favor. The prince protects him, and in return, Yue Shouming is careful to target only those who will not be defended.”
A faint bitterness crept into his tone. “When he tried to take a servant’s child from this floor, I drove him off myself. Since then, with the prince’s backing, he has turned his resentment on all of us.”
“And the court simply allows this?” Mo Jian asked, unable to accept that such a thing could persist in the heart of the empire, beneath the eyes of so many powerful cultivators.
Chi Yanxiao let out a heavy breath. “He is useful, so he lives. And the prince likes having someone like him nearby, both as a weapon to threaten others with, and as a yardstick to make himself look righteous when he intervenes.”
He raised his hands up in surrender at Mo Jian’s incredulous look. “Or so I have heard. In any case, cultivators are still people, and a court is built of people, not some flawless and impartial mechanism. Is it any surprise that such things can fester in the dark… things that would otherwise have withered the moment they were dragged into the light?”
The conversation ended there. None of them seemed willing to continue it. Mo Jian’s thoughts, however, refused to settle. Anger, disbelief, and a dull sense of outrage churned within him. Yet beneath it all, another impulse, one he was beginning to resent, whispered quietly in the back of his mind.
An opportunity. A target.
He forced the thought down.
That could wait. Everything could wait. Right now, he needed to mingle, to build connections, to-
The Netherworld Scorpion moved.
Mo Jian froze for only the briefest instant, so slight it might have gone unnoticed, and shifted a portion of his attention into the artifact spirit’s perception. Outwardly, he continued walking without pause, smoothly inserting himself into a conversation with Celestial Maiden Zhuo, who was currently surrounded by several male cultivators. He adopted the role easily enough: another wandering man drawn in by a beauty, harmless and distracted.
Inside, his focus sharpened. Through the Netherworld Scorpion, he saw Bai Ning, and beside her, the target, exactly as planned.
It still struck him as strange that Shen Jinglan served as attendant to Princess Xiang Muxue. He had not recognized the name at first; in the original narrative, Xiang Muxue did not have an attendant at all. She had been entirely alone, something that would likely have happened here as well at some later point in the timeline, had he not changed things so thoroughly.
The coincidence of it all made him think of those eyes, of the man seated at the very top of the palace he now stood within. The Immortal Emperor. For a moment, he wondered whether that man had truly arranged everything that was unfolding right now. If that was true-
He cut the thought off before it could form further. It didn’t matter right now.
Mo Jian's expression remained calm and present as he continued to speak among the Nascent Soul cultivators, playing his part as the eager newcomer with practiced ease. Half a floor away, carried along by threads he had set in motion long before this meeting began, the real movement of events quietly continued to unfold.
.................................................................................................
AN: A couple of small updates -
1. The next chapter is from Bai Ning's POV. It takes place more or less simultaneously with the meeting, just in a different location and with a different cast of characters.
2. The next few chapters (after Bai Ning's POV) are going to be heavily focused on war and politics. Given current real-world events, I'd like to offer a general content warning. Personally, I don't think it's strictly necessary, but being considerate costs nothing.
3. I've also been working on another project whenever I can find the free time. Editing Book 1 made me realize that, beyond any tactical changes, there are stylistic and structural aspects of my writing that I would like to improve. Some of those changes would honestly require something close to a complete rewrite.
The biggest issue, at least from my perspective, is my gradual drift toward more modern writing conventions: minimalist and fragmentary prose, clipped sentences, quip-heavy dialogue, and similar habits.
Part of that is simply the nature of the medium. A web novel with a rapid upload schedule doesn't leave much room for deep introspection and deliberate improvement. Still, when I look back at what I've written (an entire book's worth of material) I don't feel like my prose has evolved as much as I'd like. It's good, but it can be better.
To that end, I've been working on a separate story as a writing exercise. IatHM remains my primary focus, but I wanted a space where I could consciously experiment and push myself to improve, both technically and stylistically.
The story is set in the same broader universe (one of the many subsidiary worlds within the Three Thousand World Systems) but it has no meaningful connection to the main plot. The setting is modern and contemporary, with a strong YA adventure feel. Think of it as bonus content or a side story that happens to share the same cosmology.
Progress is slow, but that's expected.
All of this is to say that I will likely start posting chapters of that project in a month or two (with no fixed update schedule or fixed anything, to be honest). Partly to share it, and partly to keep myself honest about the whole "actively improving" thing.
Fair warning: it's going to borrow liberally from the plot structures and ideas of various books I enjoy. This is first and foremost a writing exercise, and I can't afford to devote the same level of creative energy to it that I do to IatHM.
Still, if that sounds interesting, feel free to check it out when I eventually post it. It'll be completely free, since the primary purpose is simply to help me improve my craft.