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Chapter 66: Unexpected Guests
🕑 Added 2025-05-01 00:20:00 +0000 UTC“... and next we have a delegation from the Cocoon Weaving Sect, who presents to you a shipment of clothing produced personally by the Matriarch of the Ju Clan herself: the esteemed Eight-Eyed Weaver. It is her sincere hope that…”
The announcer carried on. In that poor Inner Disciple’s hands was a list as wide and tall as he was, filled to the brim with messages detailing the well-wishes and gifts delivered to the Young Master by countless visitors.
Entire stacks of crates covered the left wall of Feng’s personal study room, each bursting with all manner of goods, ranging in anything from exotic textiles and expensive cultivation resources to mundane harvested produce and traditional handmade well-wishing straw dolls.
It should perhaps come as no surprise. Wedding gifts for a cultivator of his stature were not uncommon. There were many who would curry favour with a Young Master, and the opportunity to do so freely did not come often. The marriage was the perfect pretence for them to earn his attention.
What was unusual, however, was the sheer quality and quantity of gifts he received. It far exceeded what was reasonable, with many of them coming from sources that greatly surprised the Young Master.
Garments from the Cocoon Weaving Sect. Lumber from the Plundered Coffin Sect. Fine alcohol from the Guttering Swine Sect. Those were monasteries that neighboured the 103rd Outer Province. It was rare for outsiders of the Province to grace their attention to matters beyond their borders.
Feng was under no illusions that such generous gestures were solely directed towards him, however. Doubtless, half of these were only here because of the woman he was marrying. In time, when Lianshi makes her way into the Inner Provinces, perhaps the connections she holds might become her husband’s as well.
More politics… Exactly the last thing he needed. Feng was hardly in a position to refuse their bribes either, which meant he was burdened with the task of thanking and showing appropriate appreciation, lest his Sect give insult.
Another’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“These are quite good. The silk of the Eight-Eyed Weaver rarely finds its way out of the hovel she lives in. If you ever enter a battle wearing these, I’m pretty sure you will die from your wounds first before the robes so much as show a single tear.”
Lixuan would approve of that…Feng frowned. He shook the sudden and strange thought away.
The Young Master’s tired eyes tore themselves from the ‘thank you’ letter he was writing and looked at Brother Dai instead. The large man was rummaging through the enormous trove of presents. In his hands currently was a finely made robe, black as night and embroidered with silver streaks that shimmered like stars across the fabric.
“Do you have to go through my things?” Feng asked.
His Senior Brother shrugged. “Just checking to see if the items are as good as the letter says. Won’t want to be caught off guard by false products now, like the lumber from the Plundered Coffin Sect I used for my glaive from before.”
“I have it on good authority from our blacksmiths that the wood they sent was genuine and of high quality. Senior Brother was simply too rough with his weapon. This Young Master humbly asks that you reduce the strength of your swings, lest we must repair the shaft of your glaive a third time.”
“Can’t be that high quality if it broke again while I was training,” the senior grumbled. “The damn thing barely lasted a week after we repaired the glaive!”
The Young Master ignored his Senior Brother’s complaints and addressed the announcing assistant instead. “How many more?”
The assistant looked at the list. “That was the last of the gifts from the neighbouring Sects. If we are to look solely at those whose contributions are of greater consideration… There are several Clans beyond the immediate vicinity of the 103rd Outer Province that have sent their well-wishes. In particular, Duke Kang of the North Border Gate has delivered a sizeable gift of potent qi pills and Spirit Beast components, along with his personal well-wishes.”
“We will prioritise those first, then,” Feng said, rubbing his eyes. “What of those of lesser consideration?”
“Well…” The assistant frowned slightly. “As per your order, we have compiled the ‘tokens’ delivered to you by the mortal peasants and villages of the nearby regions. Nearly all of their offerings are worthless — straw dolls with blessings written by the weaving guilds, well regards with baked confectionery sent by most of the farming sector in the valleys, cheap jewellery and unrefined gems mined from the mountain quarry settlements…”
Dai picked up one of the straw dolls and tossed it over. The Young Master caught the object. The delicate construction of it spoke of considerable care spent in its craft. On its torso was a message, neatly written over its tiny dress:
[To the most benevolent Young Master,
Saviour of children from diseases and famine,
May you be blessed with a harmonious union for a thousand years.]
“Should we rid ourselves of their rubbish, Young Master?” The assistant asked as he looked at the offerings with an expression of barely-veiled contempt. “It is already a kindness for you to accept these sorry excuses of gifts, but to waste your time and write them a message of gratitude as well is surely—”
“And who are you to dictate how my time is wasted?”
The Young Master did not raise his voice. Still, the announcer froze.
An unnatural pressure formed across the room.
The Inner Disciple dared not speak as Feng set his gaze on him. “We will continue as planned. Do not suggest otherwise again, lest I find another assistant with a quieter tongue — after I part yours from your mouth.”
The Disciple turned pale, bowing shakily. “F-forgive me. This one will not err again.”
“Fetch me more ink and paper, and have several servants prepare the appropriate wedding favours I have readied to show my appreciation. I would like to have those sent out by today. We are already behind schedule.”
The Inner Disciple all but ran out of the room. Dai looked at the Young Master carefully.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” the senior commented. “And here I thought your fortuitous advancement last week would mellow out that recent foul attitude of yours. If anything, it’s getting worse!”
“The wedding draws nearer, and I have been having trouble sleeping.” Feng’s tone was moderate, though it was an effort not to snap back at Dai instead. “With Elder Cao of External Relations already swamped with work, I have been forced to take up several tasks. As Young Master, it falls to me to ensure the Sect does not fail in its demonstration of proper courtesy. Forgive me if my tempers have been more volatile lately.”
The Young Master finished drafting his latest letter, setting the brush aside as he took another piece of paper. “Why are you even here, Dai? This is not a matter that concerns you.”
“What, I can't spend time with my favourite Junior? We will hardly have moments like these any more once you are married, you know.”
Dai’s teasing grin eventually fell when Feng didn't reply. The Young Master simply drafted another letter with a deft hand before proceeding with the next. The sound of brush on paper filled the air. The Senior cleared his throat.
“So, you look terrible,” Dai began.
The man was understating things, if anything. Feng’s eyes were shadowed with heavy circles. His usual good looks were lined with obvious signs of fatigue that not even the beauty of cultivated splendour could cover. His posture was still poised, his appearance clean, and his attire immaculate, but looking at the Young Master, one could not help but feel that the youth was on the verge of a terrible breakdown.
Feng had used the excuse that he had been recovering from his recent advancement to ward off concerns, but with a week passed since his progress, his spiritual energies should have been replenished by now. People were starting to worry.
The Young Master found it harder to care for their opinions with each passing day.
“As I’ve said, I have not slept in some days,” Feng replied, doing his best to keep the irritation from his voice. “The preparations have kept me busy. There’s really nothing to worry about.”
That was not remotely true. Sleep may evade him, and work may plague his mind, but the true cause of his current predicament was the frequent visits of that horrid, one-eyed wraith interfering with his life.
The Young Master figured it was best not to mention that. He had already suffered enough accusations of his actions and mental state over the last weeks.
His condition… His Heart Devil… He saw her almost every night now. Feng did not know why. No amount of charity he did was now able to curb the detrimental effects of his selfish Heart. The Young Master had hoped that a rise in his cultivation level might provide him greater control over the affliction, but if anything, it was getting worse.
He couldn’t sleep, and in those few moments when he managed to, he was plagued with dreams and nightmares. Some nights, he thought he was in a battle, the sensation of pain and blood across his body so real he would wake reeling in sweat. Some nights, he believed himself flying above the Jade Clouds, staring at a sky so dark and wondrous that he mourned each time he was pulled from the dream. And some nights…
Teeth upon his chest. A lone eye of Jade staring at him. Their naked bodies writhing together, his hands locked in the silk tresses of her blood-red hair, pulling her mouth closer towards his Heart. Her flesh was sweet; not with rot but with fresh blood and vibrant life. And when her tongue finally graced the pulsating length of his Core, his beating Heart—
He would wake, his hands reaching for a woman who was never there, tears of blood streaming down his face with a wretched pain aching within him.
His spiritual balance was worsening by the day. Feng could not even properly meditate any more. The regular doses of qi pills were all that kept him from spiralling into complete chaos.
Lianshi knew of his nightmares; she witnessed their effects herself. But she did not push him for answers. When he had suddenly refused to fall asleep beside her, she did not comment either.
She simply offered her help, and when he refused, she gave him his space.
Waiting patiently for the day when he would allow her back at his side.
What could he tell her? That she was doomed to marry a defective cultivator? A worthless husband who could not even love her properly, or even serve as a proper partner in Dual Cultivation?
As if sensing his thoughts darkening, Dai prodded him with another concerned question. “Look, you know you can tell me if there's anything wrong, right?”
The Young Master sighed. The strokes of his brush pressed a little too hard, and it was an effort not to scream when the paper became irreversibly ruined. He discarded it and grabbed another.
“Things are fine as they are now, as I’ve already said countless times. If you are here solely to ask these inane questions, I would rather you leave me to my work.”
“Good, good…” Dai nodded. His expression looked uncomfortable. “But if things do suddenly become…less fine than they are now, and if they happen to occur today, just know I'm here to help.”
Feng closed his eyes. He stopped writing and set the paper aside.
“Alright. Out with it,” the Young Master commanded. “What is it?”
Dai blinked innocently. “What is what?”
“I'm tired, not stupid.” The Young Master glared. “What’s going on that requires you to be here with me constantly? Did Father order this? Is this concerning my worsening health?”
“Patriarch Sheng did suggest my presence,” Dai admitted. “Though not for reasons you suspect. It’s for your protection. We have certain guests today.”
“Could you be any less specific?” The Young Master’s patience finally snapped. The brush in his hand trembled. “Of course, we have guests! We have guests every day, all here because of my wedding! Do you imply that some of them wish me harm? Because quite frankly, if any would be stupid enough to try and attack me in the centre of my family estate, they are more than welcome to try! I could use the stress relief!”
“Not ‘attack’, in its conventional sense…” Dai trailed off. “It’s just… There’s a person on that list of well-wishes that may involve certain reactions from you that we would rather avoid…”
The Young Master did not bother responding, having completely lost interest. He returned to his paper and brush, rewriting the message he ruined earlier.
The Senior Brother sighed. After a moment of contemplation, Dai finally chose to speak up:
“Patriarch Ru’s daughter, the Heiress of the Decaying Greyroots Sect, is here.”
The brush in Feng’s hand instantly snapped. Ink splattered everywhere, ruining half of the painstakingly drafted messages on his table. The Young Master didn’t care.
He immediately stood up. The wooden chair clattered noisily at the sudden rush of movement, and the fatigue in Feng’s eyes momentarily cleared in an involuntary surge of qi.
“Yunjin is here?” The Young Master demanded.
Dai glared meaningfully at him.
“Heiress Ru,” the Senior emphasised. “Is currently present as part of her Sect’s delegation to pay their well-wishes for your wedding. The Patriarch allowed his daughter out of seclusion to witness your marriage as a sign of goodwill. That being said, she has expressed no desire to entertain any visitors and has already arranged for her servants to deliver the gifts in her stead—”
“Dai, where is she now?”
The Senior grimaced. Seconds of silence passed, and Feng was just about ready to dash out the door and look for her himself when Dai finally relented.
“The Young Miss is currently staying at the Red Sapphire guest estate, but there is no need to visit her. She has specifically requested to be left alone and— No, wait, where are you going, don’t—!”
Feng did not listen. He was already out the door, legs bursting with qi as he blurred towards the guest estate.
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The Imperial Highway, Part 1
From the onset of the Flesh-Grafted Empire, the newly established bureaucracy of the Imperial Palace understood the importance of roads for economic, military, and administrative purposes. Though the quality and expansion of road construction may vary depending on the Province, their primary function remains the same: to ensure the continued connectivity of the human population across the land of Qiangyu, such that commerce, knowledge, and all things crucial to the prosperity of an Empire might proliferate.
An obvious deduction, perhaps, but one must remember the dark grasp of Divine tyranny mankind suffered before the War Against Heaven. The Celestial Courts understood how movement through connectivity might nurture the seed of free thoughts and rebellion, and so sought to keep their mortal settlements as isolated as possible. The flow of information, money, and people was drastically stifled, with severe punishment imposed on those who dared leave their designated colonies.
Like cattle herded into pens, doomed to serve their masters until the day when the butcher knife falls.
No more, however. Now, the Imperial Highway — an administrative masterwork of interconnected roads, bridges, and ship routes — stands as yet another testament to Humanity’s freedom from its Divine shackles.
Even now, it continually expands, with the Imperial Administration tirelessly ensuring the high standards for road engineering, development, and maintenance are preserved throughout the Empire.
— Excerpt from A Citizen’s Guide to the Flesh-Grafted Empire
