Duke's Visit

Zheng shot up into the sky, rocketing through the clouds and beyond, leaving trails of vapor in his wake. The wind was sharp, carrying the scent of distant places. It had been more than a month since he had taken control of the Liu family and ascended to the position of viscount. The blood-soaked path of disposing of his treacherous uncle was now behind him, and with it, the initial chaos that had once troubled him. The world, however, had not stopped spinning.

The Celestial Phoenix Empire—vast beyond imagination—spread out beneath him like a patchwork of kingdoms, each city an entity unto itself. They were separated by stretches of vast wilderness, mountain ranges, and rivers so wide they could swallow entire armies. The imperial capital, far removed from the rural corners of the empire, demanded only the flow of taxes and the fulfillment of basic obligations. The local lords were free to govern as they pleased. It was a system that, with enough ambition, granted near absolute power.

And absolute power, as history had shown, was a breeding ground for corruption.

Even the original Liu Zheng had not been blind to the rot that festered in the empire's lower ranks. He had just been powerless to do anything about it. Now, as a cultivator in the golden core realm, the situation had changed. Through careful questioning of his aunt and subtle observation, he had learned the ugly truth of the nobility's disregard for the common folk. To them, the peasantry were little more than livestock—there to toil, to bleed, to be squeezed dry for coin and left to suffer. He had seen the reports, day after day, of the misery the people endured under the tyrannical rule of greedy lords. Yet, those in power did nothing but line their pockets and turn a blind eye.

Zheng was no hero, nor did he seek to be one. But neither was he a man who could simply stomach such callousness. His desires were simple, and he had no interest in building wealth on the backs of broken families. His conscience, though not pure, still had its limits.

As one of his first official decrees, he had reduced the tax burden from the grotesque seven taels out of every ten earned to a more reasonable four. The nobles under his command had not taken kindly to the decision. The officers, agents, and stewards had bristled, but none dared voice their dissent after meeting his gaze. They were intelligent enough to know the price of defiance.

This was only the beginning.

Next, he had reduced the hours of labor in the Liu family's spirit stone mine, slashing the grueling shifts and lowering the demand for spirit stones. Even his ever-composed aunt had raised her objections. But Liu Zheng had been unmoved. The miners had been dying from exhaustion and overwork, their lives snuffed out like candles in the wind. If he had to bear the cost of fewer spirit stones, then so be it. He would rather endure a temporary loss than carry the weight of more lives lost to the pitiless grind of the mines.

The corruption in the city guards was another festering wound that he had cauterized swiftly. He had given his new captain of the guards, Liu Nan, a direct order: root out the malfeasance. The punishment for those found guilty was to be swift and harsh, meant to send a message to the rest. His decision had shaken the underbelly of the city to its core, but in the long run, it would set a precedent.

Lastly, there was the scandal that had the entire city buzzing. Liu Zheng had publicly chastised his cousin, Liu Meili, after she had tried to humiliate a humble waitress at a local tavern. In this world, the powerful made the rules, and the weak were expected to bend and suffer without resistance. But to Liu Zheng, this kind of petty cruelty was absurd. The highborn were tasked with protecting the people, not tormenting them.

According to the archaic customs of the realm, any loss of face by the Liu family would be seen as a stain upon his honor. The idea was absurd to him, and yet it carried the weight of divine law in the eyes of the common folk. For a mere mortal to dare humiliate his own blood was an affront to everything the empire revered. And yet, Liu Zheng had chosen to risk it all—his reputation, his face, his very standing in society—to defend the dignity of a single, insignificant waitress.

The rumors had spread like wildfire, traveling faster than the wind itself. The scandal had been the talk of every street corner, every teahouse, and every alleyway in the city. It was a foolish, incomprehensible act, one that would haunt his name for years.

But Liu Zheng had rolled his eyes at it all. He had read of such customs, but living within them was an entirely different matter. The notion of "face" seemed like a bizarre, twisted religion to him—a relic of a past age that had little meaning in the present. What mattered were actions, not empty appearances.

It was this frustration that had driven him to take flight today. The confines of the court had grown stifling. The constant fear of his anger had put everyone on edge, and his position as viscount was becoming a gilded cage. Liu Zheng had longed for a taste of freedom, away from the gaze of courtly officials and the weight of responsibility.

He had decided to take a moment for himself, to clear his mind beneath the open sky. The winds of the Celestial Phoenix Empire were vast, and for a brief moment, he felt as though he could stretch out his arms and embrace it all.

The weight of the world felt distant up here, but the questions still lingered. Chief among them was the future. By merely existing in this world, Liu Zheng had already changed the course of the story he had once read on Earth. Ye Chen, the protagonist of that tale, would no longer follow the same path. In fact, Liu Zheng's own uncle—now dead and gone—had been the first obstacle in Ye Chen's journey. In the original story, Ye Chen had made an enemy of him and been sent to die on the frontlines against the Yuan. Against all odds, he had survived and proven his worth, and then come back to take revenge against the Liu clan.

That survival had marked a critical turning point in the tale. Ye Chen became the first person in millennia to break through to the Golden Core realm naturally. The novel had glorified this feat, depicting his rise as nothing short of meteoric. Elevated to viscount, he formed alliances with the royal family, and his name spread far and wide. Even the Divine Dragon Empire had tried to recruit him, eager to understand the secret behind his unparalleled success. Everyone had wanted to unlock the mysteries of his ascension.

But that sequence of events could no longer unfold as written. Liu Zheng would never claim to be a slave to the novel's plot, but he couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at him when he thought of Ye Chen's future. Ye Chen was indispensable. Unlike others, who could only inherit powers from the past, Ye Chen had no such bounds. He could rise to immortality. It was he who, in the end, had saved the world—defeating the Immortal of Slaughter after the tyrant had already decimated half the land.

And Ye Chen wasn't his only worry. The offer from his aunt—despite all his efforts to ignore it—had lodged itself in his thoughts. Zheng came to a stop in the sky, his robes billowing as the gusts of wind ruffled his hair. He had hoped that the act of flying would clear his mind, but the worries only persisted. Still, there was a calming peace in the exhilaration of flight, a quiet respite far removed from the suffocating pressures of the court.

Hovering in mid-air, he took in the view below. An endless sea of clouds stretched out, some towering like monstrous buildings, all glowing softly in the pink and gold light of the setting sun. Zheng doubted he would ever tire of this view. It had a way of soothing him, of quieting the constant hum of worries that threatened to consume him. Whenever his responsibilities became too overwhelming, he could always come here to regain his balance and clear his head.

His robes fluttered in the wind as he molded his qi into a protective sphere, shielding himself from the biting cold and gusts. Not that they bothered him—being a cultivator in the golden core realm meant he was beyond such concerns. But in this moment, a little peace and quiet was exactly what he needed to think through his aunt's offer.

On the surface, accepting it was unpalatable. Liu Zifan, his aunt, was the Liu family's only foundational establishment cultivator. That gave her a great deal of power and prestige, especially after Zheng had disposed of his treacherous uncle. While he wasn't threatened by her—he never had been—it was impossible to ignore how much he relied on her to keep the family's business and the city running smoothly. The recent dealings with the merchant caravans and contract renewals had shown him just how much he didn't know. He needed someone like her—competent, sharp, and reliable—working under him to keep things steady.

But none of that meant he should accept her offer to marry her daughter, his cousin.

The biggest issue, of course, was that he had no interest in marrying her. He barely knew his cousin— a quiet, solemn girl who had only appeared at family gatherings. She hadn't bullied him when the original Liu Zheng had been the family's punching bag, but she hadn't offered any support either. And then there was the matter of his background. Coming from a more modern world, the idea of marrying a cousin felt deeply uncomfortable, no matter how common it was in this world.

But it wasn't just personal discomfort. Accepting his aunt's offer would solidify her influence in the family. That wasn't inherently bad, but it wasn't ideal. Zheng needed her to stay in her current position—second in command, aware of her place—not trying to rise higher. After seeing what kind of person his uncle had been, Zheng had no intention of allowing anyone else to rise unchecked. Though he was more powerful now, as a cultivator, power came in many forms. His aunt, with her experience under both his father and uncle—and now him—was skilled at navigating those subtler currents.

On the other hand, marrying within the family would resolve his marriage problems once and for all. Zheng wasn't particularly eager to marry, but he understood the necessity. As a noble in the Celestial Phoenix Empire, it was his duty to ensure the family line continued. His recent ascension had already prompted a flood of proposals, offers, and inquiries from other families—some even offering their daughters as concubines. A family marriage would neatly tie up that whole mess.

There were pros and cons to weigh, and the decision wasn't easy. Besides, he should speak to his cousin first, to understand who she truly was. He doubted she would be anything other than an eager, dutiful daughter, pleased to marry into the position of family head's wife—but it was best to confirm. After that, he could decide.

Zheng nodded to himself, firm in his resolve. Even if he planned to refuse the match, he would need to appear to give it proper consideration. Otherwise, his aunt might take offense.

Suddenly, something brushed against his spiritual senses. Something familiar. Zheng paused, then unleashed his spiritual awareness in a wide sphere. He spotted it—barely a few thousand meters below—a glowing red ball drifting towards him. His eyes narrowed. It was a voice transmission talisman. A common tool for long-distance communication among cultivators. This talisman was from his aunt and the fact that she was going this far to reach him meant it was something important.

Zheng rocketed downward, the thrill of flight coursing through him, and within moments, he grasped the red talisman in his hand. His aunt's voice echoed in his mind, clear and urgent.

"The honorable Duke Long has arrived for a visit, Patriarch. He has commanded that his presence remain quiet and has requested to meet with you at your earliest convenience."

She paused, then continued, her tone more cautious, almost whispering, "Please hurry. The Liu family cannot afford to offend an existence of this level."

Zheng froze mid-air, stunned. A Duke? What was a Nascent Soul cultivator doing here? Confusion rippled through him. Why would a Duke be visiting him? There were only two individuals of such noble rank in the entire empire, and Duke Long was the only one without direct ties to the imperial family. The other Duke, Sheng, was the brother of the current emperor.

His mind raced, trying to piece together the situation, but all he could feel was a rising tide of unease. His first thought? He had somehow slipped up—now a Nascent Soul cultivator was hunting him. Should he run? A bitter smile tugged at his lips. No. There was no point. He couldn't run or hide from someone of that caliber. Besides, if the Duke meant harm, why would he go to such lengths to reach him? The Duke had clearly entered the city unnoticed and could have ambushed him at any time if that had been his goal.

No, the more likely scenario was that this had nothing to do with him personally. He was overthinking it, allowing panic to cloud his judgment. For all he knew, this could simply be an official visit. Running would only make him seem guilty, and that was a mistake he couldn't afford to make.

He had no choice but to head back into the city and uncover the purpose of the Duke's visit. Should he try to use the Azure Moon Mirror to scout out the situation before going? Zheng hesitated, his mind torn. The risk was too great. A Nascent Soul cultivator's senses were far too sharp, and without any guarantees, the danger was too high. No, he'd have to brave it, unprepared.

For a moment, Zheng wondered if this was how his late uncle and aunt had felt when he first arrived in the city. But he quickly pushed the thought aside. He'd already wasted enough time.

With a flick of his fingers, he tightened the qi around him, reinforcing his protective shield. He dove into the clouds, layers of white vapor swirling around him, held back only by his qi barrier. With a burst of speed, he shot through the clouds, heading straight for the city. At his pace, it would only take a few minutes to arrive.

As he descended, Zheng mentally prepared himself for the meeting ahead. Interacting with a superior, especially someone of such high rank, required precision—forms of speech, gestures, and traditions that could fill volumes of texts. He had to refresh his memory, as it had never come up practically in the city. After all, he was the one with the highest rank here.

Zheng looked down as the city neared, stretching his spiritual senses to their limit. Even with the utmost concentration, nothing felt out of place. The strongest presence was Liu Zifan, his aunt, but there was no one else of any notable qi near her. How frightening. A man many times stronger than him could conceal himself so thoroughly. Pulling in his qi tightly, he landed silently on the balcony of his office and hurried inside.

He was met with the sight of his aunt pacing restlessly, a frown etched deeply into her face. She turned to him as soon as he entered, and a portion of her worry seemed to lift at the sight of him. "Oh, thank the furnaces of Laozi, you're here! I wasn't sure how much longer we could keep him waiting. Hurry, the Duke is in the Saffron Rooms. I've sent for wine and sweets, and the Three Sisters are playing their zithers for his amusement. But I don't know how much longer his patience will hold. Hurry!"

Zheng had never seen her so flustered, not even during his clash with his uncle. Frankly, he was feeling the weight of worry himself. But he nodded, his face a mask of resolve, and marched toward the Saffron Rooms. His aunt reached out instinctively, smoothing his hair and robes with a surge of qi, like rain falling on him. Zheng waved her away irritably; his appearance was presentable enough.

It was time to face the music.

.........…..

Duke Long could best be described as a jovial grandfather who had somehow never gone to seed. He was tall, broad, and built like a mountain—his presence filling the room in a way that made you feel small by comparison. His hands were larger than Zheng's chest, and his booming laugh could be heard echoing for miles. The man was loud, quick to laugh, and seemed to find humor in everything.

Zheng's initial apprehension over the visit had since faded. Yes, a visit from one of the empire's three Nascent Soul cultivators was no small affair. But after four hours of sitting across from the man, his unease had shifted into something closer to resignation. Duke Long had taken great pleasure in regaling him with endless tales of his exploits during the last war with the Divine Dragon Empire, including the epic story of how he fought the Buddhist monk Jie Shan for three days and nights before finally emerging victorious. The Duke had insisted—repeatedly—that Zheng drink with him, and no amount of polite refusals could hold up against his sheer enthusiasm.

So, here they were, four hours into the Duke's unannounced visit, sitting and drinking together. Zheng kept his expression pleasant, though inwardly he was burning off the alcohol in his blood with his qi. He had no tolerance for heavy drinking, and besides, the old man had a reason for being here. Deliberately dulling his wits would only make him look a fool when that reason was finally revealed.

"And then, the bastard tried to gut me from behind," Duke Long boomed, gesturing wildly. His hand came dangerously close to splashing wine all over the expensive carpet in the Liu family's best meeting room. By some miracle—or perhaps subtle manipulation of qi—nothing spilled, and the Duke continued. "Of course, it didn't work, and I ended up bashing him over the head with my Imperial Lion Seal. Ah, good times! You should've seen the look on his face."

Another round of hearty laughter followed, the Duke slapping his knee in delight. Zheng smiled politely, though his mind had already begun to wander, silently wishing the man would get to the point. Unfortunately, he couldn't rush the Duke. The status difference between a mere viscount and a Duke was vast, and besides, a Nascent Soul cultivator could wipe him—and the entire city—off the map before he even realized it. If the gulf between Foundation Establishment and Golden Core was the difference between heaven and earth, the gap between Golden Core and Nascent Soul was the divide between the underworld and the heavens. There was no comparison.

A single Nascent Soul cultivator was like a living weapon of mass destruction, capable of altering the course of entire wars with just their presence. There were only three of them in the entire Celestial Phoenix Empire, two of whom were part of the imperial family. That left Duke Long as one of the only two Dukes in the empire. Zheng, on the other hand, was just one among some two hundred lesser nobles. Sure, there were marquises, earls, and other viscounts, but none carried the same prestige as a Duke.

"It's a pity," the Duke lamented with a nostalgic sigh, "that was the last good skirmish we had. Now, the old farts over in the Divine Dragon Empire have lost all taste for war. Now, it's all just diplomacy, peaceful talks, and strengthening ties. There's no real chance to fight anymore." His tone was wistful, clearly longing for the battles of his past.

"Though," the Duke added slyly, shaking off his reverie, "You might have an opportunity soon enough." He took another swig of wine, his eyes narrowing slightly, now fixed sharply on Zheng.

Zheng recognized the shift. So, they were finally getting to the point. He met the Duke's gaze without flinching, knowing that the man preferred honesty over formality. "With the Divine Dragon Empire?" Zheng asked. "I haven't heard of our relations with them worsening."

The Duke's smile deepened, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. "Not them. Trouble's brewing up North. The raids by the Yuan have been increasing dramatically over the past decade, and the Northern Wall has been catching wind of troubling rumors." His voice held a strange, almost eager undertone—as though the mere mention of potential war excited him in a way nothing else could.

Zheng's brow furrowed. The news was troubling, yes, but it also stirred something within him—memories of this world's plot and what it might mean. The Yuan, barbaric nomads from the northern wastes, were notorious for their relentless raids against the Celestial Phoenix Empire. But unlike the empire's cultivators, the Yuan practiced a unique and dangerous form of cultivation—Beast Cultivation. This art had been made possible when the corpse of a divine beast had fallen in their lands, infusing the earth with its potent qi. Over time, the Yuan had learned to harness its power, blending human, horse, and dragon traits into a chimeric form.

Their most feared technique, Thousand Mile Steps, granted them unparalleled speed—allowing them to raid vast territories and vanish before any significant force could be mustered against them.

Like the empire's cultivators, the Yuan could progress only as far as the Foundation Establishment stage at best, but with each level, they lost more of their humanity, giving way to beastly instincts. However, the rarest of the Yuan could transcend these limits. The strongest among them could ascend to the Golden Core and even Nascent Soul realms. These individuals, known as Khans, were terrifying figures who struck fear into the hearts of the empire.

Zheng had been expecting this news. The Yuan's invasion had been a key part of the plot, closely tied with the fall of the Liu family at Ye Chen's hands in the novel. However, the timing was off. This was happening far earlier than it should have. First, he should seek what answers he could.

"Rumors?" Zheng mused, swirling his wine absentmindedly. "It's been nearly a century since Chagatai Khan nearly raided to the heart of the empire. You think another Khan has risen?"

Duke Long manipulated the wine jug with his qi, pouring a generous amount into his saucer before answering. "It's been long enough for a new king of the beasts to emerge. We even have a name: Ogedei Khan."

Zheng's breath caught in his throat. That name—Ogedei Khan—was familiar. Ogedei Khan had been the leader of the Yuan in the novel, the one who pushed the empire to its limits before finally breaking through the Northern Wall. His forces had laid waste to much of the north before Ye Chen had delivered a fatal blow to him. That victory had cemented Ye Chen's status as a hero of the empire.

But this wasn't supposed to be happening yet. The empire hadn't even been aware of the Yuan's movements this early.

Zheng considered that thought for a second, before shaking it off. This was real life, not the novel. There was no script for how things should unfold—he was no protagonist. It was foolish to frame everything in terms of the plot he had read.

Still, there was another layer to consider. Ogedei Khan wasn't just dangerous because of his power; he was one of the five avatars of the Immortal of Slaughter. If even one of these avatars survived long enough, they would eventually release the Immortal from his prison. In the novel, Ye Chen had traveled the world, hunting down these avatars before they could complete their mission. In the end, he had failed, because he lacked crucial information. However, that didn't change the fact that Ogedei Khan had been the first avatar to rise—fighting him could only be a good thing.

Duke Long, seemingly content with his wine, gave Zheng space to think. The Duke's casual demeanor stood in stark contrast to the gravity of the situation, but that was how it often was with men like him—war and chaos were just another stage for those with true power.

Zheng snapped back to attention, his mind now fully focused. "Why me?" he asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

In response, Duke Long reached into his robes and pulled out a simple-looking scroll. However, the golden seal of a majestic phoenix on its surface made it clear that despite its apparent simplicity, it came directly from the emperor.

"I was in court recently," the Duke explained, "talking with the emperor about this very issue. He suggested I lead a small scouting force into the deep North to verify the rumors. If a new Khan has truly risen, it's vital that the empire prepares for war. I was about to leave when I saw your message of fealty arrive. There aren't many concealment and evasion artifacts in the empire, and the best among them is the Azure Moon Mirror. The emperor's True Wind Crane might be more powerful, but I can't exactly borrow that." He tossed the scroll to Zheng, who quickly unfurled it to read. It mirrored the Duke's explanation: the emperor had charged him with leading a group to investigate the situation along the Northern border.

Duke Long continued, "I believe you can be useful to my mission. With the Azure Moon Mirror, you have the skill to evade detection, and after talking with you, I know you to be trustworthy enough. This is a request, Viscount Liu Zheng. I'd like you to join me and accompany my force to the far North. We'll go as deep as necessary to confirm whether a new Khan has indeed risen. And if we can, we'll try to eliminate him before he can threaten the empire. If that proves impossible, we'll at least gather enough intelligence to bring back, so the emperor can deal with it directly."

Zheng blinked, feeling a mixture of flattery and anxiety. This wasn't just an offer—it was a chance to work closely with one of the most powerful cultivators in the realm. This could only be good for him personally, and for the Liu family as a whole. There was the element of risk, but given what he knew of the future, war wasn't something he could avoid.

The Duke was watching him gather his thoughts, and Zheng thought furiously, examining the request from all angles.

The Duke's voice broke through his reverie. "Well, Viscount? What say you?"

Zheng exhaled, then nodded decisively. "I'll join you, Duke Long. I'll need some time to set my affairs in order and ensure Green Bamboo City's proper governance, but after that, I will accompany you to the North."

The Duke's grin widened, his boisterous laughter filling the room once again. "Good! Good! I knew you'd see reason. Together, we'll make sure the Yuan don't get the better of us." He raised his cup in a celebratory gesture. "To our success, and the empire's future!"

Zheng raised his own cup, but his thoughts lingered on what was coming. Things were already deviating from what he remembered, and soon enough, they might become completely unrecognizable. And, here he was, heading off to war. For a second, he thought of his old job, how he stayed glued to his computer screen most of the time, and he couldn't help but smile. He had always wished for excitement in that life, and now—well, he couldn't complain. This was about as exciting as it got.