High above the Red-Sand Wastes, the night wind blew cold and sharp across the dunes. Five figures in fluttering crimson robes stood on the blades of five shining flying swords, cutting through the dark clouds like red shooting stars.
At the front of the formation stood a tall young man with a jade hairpin and a proud, sneering mouth. He was Zhao Kuang, a Rank 4 Mid Qi Gathering disciple of the Crimson Cloud Immortal Sect’s outer branch. Behind him flew four Rank 4 Early Qi Gathering juniors—three young men and a sharp-chinned girl named Junior Sister Liu.
“Senior Brother Zhao, look at my compass!” Junior Sister Liu called out, holding a glowing bronze plate in her pale hand. “Junior Brother Lin’s life-jade signal is right ahead! At least he is still breathing!”
“Hmph. Those filthy desert mortals wouldn’t dare kill a disciple of our Crimson Cloud Sect,” Senior Brother Zhao said coldly, his hands tucked behind his back as his flying sword hummed beneath his boots. “Envoy Lin only came out here to collect a little tribute from that useless Iron-Wolf Marquis. He must have been careless and fallen into a mortal poison trap. Right now, he is probably chained up in a damp, rat-infested dungeon, starving and praying for us to come save him!”
“Those desert dogs will pay with their lives!” shouted Junior Brother Ma, a stocky youth on the left. He patted the leather pouch at his waist. “Wait until we find the mud village holding him. I’ll roast their village chief over a slow fire for three days!”
“Why waste three days?” another junior, Chen, laughed cruelly. “A desert village only has a few dozen mud huts and some half-dead camel herders. One wave of Senior Brother Zhao’s Five-Fire Ring Spell will turn the whole place into black ash in ten breaths!”
Senior Brother Zhao smiled arrogantly, enjoying the flattery. In the eyes of an Immortal Sect cultivator who had opened his dantian and could fly on a sword, mortal towns and even mortal kingdoms were no different from ant hills. If an ant bit a cultivator’s boot, the cultivator didn’t argue with the ant—he simply poured boiling water down the hole.
“Speed up,” Senior Brother Zhao ordered. “Once we pull Junior Brother Lin out of their torture pit and take whatever silver those dirt-eaters have hidden away, we can fly back to Green-Jade Valley before dawn. I don’t want this dry desert dust ruining my skin.”
The five flying swords shot over a tall ridge of red rock.
Then, all five cultivators froze so hard they nearly slipped off their blades.
Down below, there was no dark, starving mud village.
Instead, a massive, square walled city stretched out across the desert basin like a glowing treasure box! Thick black-iron and mud walls rose forty feet high, lit from end to end by thousands of bright white crystal lamps. Wide, flat stone highways ran straight as rulers into the city gates. Even more shocking, down on the desert floor to their left, a long chain of iron cars was roaring along two gleaming steel rails at sixty miles an hour!
At the front of that iron train, an enormous, armor-plated red scorpion the size of a house was galloping at full speed, happily slurping spicy mutton broth through a copper tube while a brass whistle on its back blew: CHOO-CHOO!
“W-what is that monster?!” Junior Sister Liu shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at the speeding train below. “Is that a mutated Scorpion King pulling iron boxes?! Why isn’t it attacking anyone?!”
“And look at the fields around the city!” Junior Brother Chen gasped, his eyes bulging out of his head. “Those aren’t dry sand dunes! Those are ten thousand acres of green potato fields with running water canals! Where did all this water come from in the middle of the Red-Sand Wastes?!”
Senior Brother Zhao’s face twitched. His proud sneer vanished, replaced by a look of greedy shock. He looked down at the bustling streets inside the city walls, where tens of thousands of people in clean cotton clothes were walking under bright paper lanterns, laughing and carrying baskets of steaming food.
“Black magic!” Senior Brother Zhao spat, quickly finding an excuse that protected his pride. “These wicked mortals must have locked Junior Brother Lin inside a blood-draining formation! They are sucking out his Qi Gathering spiritual energy to water their crops and light their lamps!”
“Senior Brother is wise!” Junior Brother Ma cried out, angry all over again. “No wonder Junior Brother Lin hasn’t answered our flying paper cranes! They are draining him dry! Look at the center of that city—there’s a strange heavy pressure hovering over the rooftops. If we fly right over the main street, we might trigger their trap!”
“Drop down outside the east wall,” Senior Brother Zhao commanded, lowering his flying sword toward a grove of thick date trees a hundred yards from the city moat. “We will slip over the wall on foot, follow the compass straight to the dungeon where Junior Brother Lin is being tortured, and strike from the shadows!”
The five red-robed cultivators landed in the grass outside the wall, put their flying swords away into their storage pouches, and tapped Weightless Talismans onto their knees. Like five red bats, they leaped up the forty-foot wall, dodged between two yawning night-watch guards who were busy sharing a bag of deep-fried locust snacks, and dropped silently into a side alley inside Dry-Well City.
Across the street, on the third-floor balcony of the Grand Sweet-Spring Bathhouse, a young man in a loose white silk robe was leaning against the wooden railing. He held a cup of iced mung-bean tea in one hand while a warm breeze blew through his dark hair.
It was Pei Xuan, the Lord of Dry-Well City.
Right in front of Pei Xuan’s eyes, a bright blue RTS System screen flashed with a loud DING!
Behind Pei Xuan, sixteen-year-old Hong Ling immediately reached for the two heavy black-iron kitchen cleavers hanging at her waist. Now that she had broken through to Rank 4 Early Qi Gathering using the Furnace-Blood Scripture, faint red sparks of fire-Qi danced along the edges of her cleavers.
“Young Master!” Hong Ling whispered fiercely, her big eyes shining like a hungry wolf’s. “Five wild cultivators just climbed over the east wall without paying the two-copper night entry toll! And their pouches have eighty Spirit Stones! Should I call General Tie and go chop them up?”
Beside her, Abacus Su pushed his round spectacles up his nose. His fingers were already clicking furiously on his golden abacus.
“Lord Pei, climbing the wall without a ticket is a fifty-silver fine per person,” Abacus Su said, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. “Also, when that tall one named Zhao Kuang landed in the alley just now, his heel chipped the corner of a grade-two drainage brick. With night-time repair fees and emotional distress to the neighborhood stray cats, they already owe us four thousand silver taels!”
Pei Xuan took a slow sip of his cold tea and chuckled. He looked down at the five red-robed figures creeping out of the dark alley toward the bright lights of Ward 3’s Night Market.
“Don’t rush, Hong Ling,” Pei Xuan said with a grin. “Look at the compass in that girl’s hand. They aren’t here to rob the treasury—they are following Envoy Lin’s jade token. Let’s see how their big rescue mission goes first. Tell the Ward 3 bricklayer night-school class to finish their evening homework and stand by at the end of the street.”
“Yes, Young Master!” Hong Ling giggled, pulling out a small copper whistle to signal the rooftop runners.
Down on the street, Senior Brother Zhao and his four juniors crept out of the alley—and immediately bumped into a wall of mouth-watering smells.
Ward 3’s Night Market was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of happy workers who had just finished their evening shift at the brick kilns and potato farms. Huge iron woks sizzled over roaring coal stoves. Old Guo’s apprentices were tossing thumb-thick white noodles into boiling beef bone broth, while rows of spiced lamb skewers dripped golden fat onto glowing charcoal, sending clouds of cumin and chili smoke into the night air.
GURGLE.
Behind Senior Brother Zhao, Junior Brother Ma’s stomach let out a roar loud enough to drown out a bass drum. Ma blushed bright red and clutched his belly. “S-Senior Brother, we have been eating dry fasting pills for three days on the road. What kind of mortal meat is that? Why does it smell ten times richer than the spirit-chicken in our sect’s dining hall?!”
“Shut your mouth and guard your Dao heart!” Senior Brother Zhao hissed, though he had to swallow a mouthful of his own drool as a teenage boy walked past carrying a giant roasted Meat-Potato dripping with garlic butter. “Mortal food is full of impurities! Keep your eyes on the compass! Where is Junior Brother Lin’s dungeon?”
Junior Sister Liu stared down at the bronze compass in her hand, her face twisting in total confusion. The glowing red needle wasn’t pointing underground, and it wasn’t pointing toward any dark prison tower.
It was pointing straight at the brightest, loudest noodle stall in the middle of the square!
“Senior Brother...” Junior Sister Liu stammered, pointing past a crowd of laughing blacksmiths. “The life-jade signal... it’s right under that big red paper lantern!”
“What?! Are they boiling him in a cauldron in public?!” Senior Brother Zhao’s eyes went wide with fury. He pushed through the crowd of townspeople, his four juniors right behind him with their hands on their hidden talismans. “Stand back, you mortal beasts! Unhand my Junior Brother—”
The words died in Senior Brother Zhao’s throat.
Right under the big red lantern sat a low wooden table. Sitting on a stool with one leg propped up on a bench was none other than Envoy Lin—Lin Cang of the Crimson Cloud Sect!
However, Envoy Lin was not chained up. He was not bleeding, and he was certainly not starving.
In fact, Envoy Lin looked at least ten pounds fatter than when he had left the sect two weeks ago! His cheeks were shiny and pink, his hair was neatly washed and smelled like peppermint bath soap, and over his gray work shirt he wore a bright yellow vest with bold black letters painted across the chest:
[ DEBTOR #001 — WARD 3 ROAD & POTATO CREW ]
Pinned carefully to the collar of his yellow Debtor Vest was a bright red paper flower with gold ink that read: Weekly Model Worker.
At this very moment, Envoy Lin was holding a blue-and-white porcelain basin the size of a washbasin. It was filled to the brim with steaming red beef broth, thick white noodles, four huge chunks of tender braised beef tendon, and two shiny brown braised eggs.
Sitting across from him were two healthy, rosy-cheeked village girls from the Potato Sorting Team, who were giggling as they shelled roasted peanuts.
“I’m telling you, Sister Cuihua, nobody in Ward 3 harvests Meat-Potatoes faster than me!” Envoy Lin bragged, waving his wooden chopsticks in the air before slurping up a mouthful of noodles with a loud SLUUURP! “Today, I used a tiny bit of Wind-Blade Qi on my iron hoe and dug up four thousand pounds of potatoes before noon! Foreman Old Wei was so happy he gave me this Little Red Flower himself!”
“Oh, Brother Lin, you’re amazing!” the girl named Cuihua said admiringly. “Does that Little Red Flower really cut off part of your wall-breaking fine?”
“Of course it does!” Envoy Lin puffed out his yellow Debtor Vest with immense pride, patting the red paper flower like it was a sacred sect treasure. “Each Little Red Flower takes ten whole Spirit Stones off my debt! And better yet, anyone with three Little Red Flowers in a row gets promoted to Assistant Night-Watch Team Leader, which comes with free extra beef tendon every night and two tickets to the VIP hot-spring pool! In just four more years, I’ll pay off my whole bill, and then Lord Pei promised I can apply for permanent Dry-Well residency!”
Up on the bathhouse balcony, Pei Xuan looked at the floating bar above Envoy Lin’s head and nearly choked on his tea.
Down in the square, Senior Brother Zhao and the four sect juniors stood frozen like five clay statues. The wind blew a piece of roasted garlic skin across Senior Brother Zhao’s boot.
“J-Junior Brother Lin?!” Junior Sister Liu squeaked, her voice cracking. “What are you wearing?! Why are you eating mortal slop with peasant girls and bragging about digging up potatoes with a hoe?!”
Envoy Lin froze with half a braised egg sticking out of his mouth.
He turned his head slowly, saw Senior Brother Zhao and the four red-robed disciples standing five feet away, and his eyes went wide with sheer terror.
He didn’t look like a prisoner seeing his saviors. He looked like a man who had finally found a warm, happy home—only for five drunken relatives carrying lit torches to kick open his front door!
“Junior Brother Lin! Don’t be afraid!” Senior Brother Zhao shouted dramatically, thinking Envoy Lin had been hit with a mind-confusion curse. Zhao leaped forward, his heavy leather boot stomping down right on the edge of the noodle stall’s stone floor with a loud CRACK that split a freshly laid blue street tile in half! “We have come from the Crimson Cloud Sect to rescue you! Tear off that shameful yellow dog-vest! Today, Senior Brother will slaughter this whole street of mortals to wash away your humiliation!”
PLOP.
In his shock, the half-eaten braised egg fell out of Envoy Lin’s chopsticks, bounced off the table, and rolled right under Senior Brother Zhao’s muddy boot, getting squashed flat on top of the cracked street tile.
Silence fell over the noodle stall for three full seconds.
Envoy Lin stared down at his squashed two-copper braised egg. Then he stared at the cracked blue street tile right next to his stool.
His face turned from pink to white, and then from white to purple.
“My braised egg!” Envoy Lin let out a heartbreaking wail. “I traded two hours of overtime ditch-digging for that egg! And you—you just cracked a Grade-2 Municipal Blue-Stone Tile right in front of my table!”
“Junior Brother Lin, have you lost your mind?!” Senior Brother Zhao grabbed Envoy Lin by the sleeve of his yellow Debtor Vest, trying to pull him up. “Who cares about a mortal egg and a piece of mud brick?! Come with us right now! We are flying back to the sect!”
SMACK!
Envoy Lin slapped Senior Brother Zhao’s hand away with all the strength of his Rank 4 Early Qi, scrambled backward like a frightened rabbit, and dove straight behind Old Guo’s massive black-iron noodle cart!
“Get away from me, Zhao Kuang!” Envoy Lin screamed at the top of his lungs, poking only his head out from behind the boiling pot of beef broth while clutching his Little Red Paper Flower with both hands. “I don’t know you! I have nothing to do with this guy! Everyone in Ward 3 saw it—he broke the street tile, not me!”
Senior Brother Zhao stared at his own hand where Envoy Lin had slapped him, completely dumbfounded. “Lin Cang! What are you shouting about?! We risked our lives sneaking into this city to save you!”
“Save your mother’s head!” Envoy Lin roared back, his eyes red with panic as he pointed a wooden chopstick at Senior Brother Zhao’s nose. “Back at the Crimson Cloud Sect, you made me give you twenty Spirit Stones a month for ‘protection,’ fed me cold cabbage soup, and beat me with a bamboo cane whenever your alchemy furnace went out! Here in Dry-Well City, I get three hot meals a day, eight hours of sleep on a cotton mattress, and overtime pay! If you drag me into a street fight and ruin my Model Worker record, Abacus Su will cancel my Little Red Flower and add five hundred Spirit Stones to my bill!”
“Junior Brother Lin, what kind of wicked poison did these mortals feed you?!” Junior Sister Liu cried out, stepping forward with a horrified look on her face. “You are an Immortal cultivator of the Qi Gathering realm! Even if you are an outer-sect disciple, you stand above ten thousand mortal kings! How can you care about a paper flower and a bowl of cow bones?! Have you forgotten your dream of reaching Foundation Establishment?!”
“Foundation Establishment?!” Envoy Lin sneered from behind the steaming iron pot, wiping spicy red oil from his chin with the back of his sleeve. “Junior Sister Liu, don’t talk to me about Foundation Establishment! I was stuck at Qi Gathering Stage 2 for six whole years in the sect because Elder Huo watered down our monthly Spirit Tea and sold the real herbs to the black market! Do you know what happened after I came to Dry-Well City?”
Envoy Lin slapped his own chest—right over the black letters reading DEBTOR #001—and flexed his right arm. A thick wave of hot, vigorous blood-Qi mixed with pure spiritual energy surged around his fist!
“Look closely!” Envoy Lin shouted proudly. “Just from drinking Sweet-Spring Well water every morning, eating Old Guo’s braised beef tendon every night, and practicing Lord Pei’s public breathing exercises while digging irrigation ditches, I broke through to Qi Gathering Stage 3 four days ago! My meridians are twice as wide as yours, and my back doesn’t even ache when it rains!”
The four sect juniors gasped and took half a step back. They could clearly sense that Envoy Lin’s Qi was thicker, warmer, and steadier than it had ever been back in Green-Jade Valley!
“That’s impossible!” Junior Brother Ma stammered, his eyes darting toward the giant iron pot of bubbling beef broth on Old Guo’s cart. “How can mortal beef noodles have more pure energy than our sect’s Fasting Pills?!”
“Hey, watch your mouth, kid!” Old Guo banged his heavy iron soup ladle against the rim of the cauldron, glaring at the four sect juniors with his arms crossed over his white apron. “Fasting Pills? My apprentice Envoy Lin showed me one of those dry little mud balls last week—it’s just stale millet flour mixed with sawdust and a pinch of cheap licorice! My broth is simmered for twelve hours with Spirit-Spring water, desert red-scorpion shells, and three-hundred-pound Meat-Potatoes! One bowl of my noodles has more nutrition than a whole bottle of your bird-feed pills!”
Around the noodle stall, the two village girls from the Potato Sorting Team stood up and put their hands on their hips, glaring fiercely at Senior Brother Zhao.
“That’s right!” Cuihua shouted, not the least bit afraid of the five red-robed strangers. “Brother Lin is our Ward 3 Potato Harvesting Champion! Yesterday he helped my old father pull a broken ox-cart out of the mud without even asking for a tip! Who do you five red-dressed peacocks think you are, jumping off the roof and stepping on his egg?!”
“Yeah! Pay for the egg and pay for the cracked street tile!” twenty burly bricklayers at the next table stood up, rolling up their sleeves to reveal forearms as thick as iron bars.
Senior Brother Zhao looked at the shouting peasant girls, looked at the fat cook waving a soup ladle, and looked at Envoy Lin hiding behind the noodle cart. His proud brain couldn’t process what was happening. In every story he had ever heard, mortals trembled like mice whenever a cultivator showed his face! Why were these dirt-diggers scolding him like he was a street pickpocket?!
Envoy Lin didn’t give Senior Brother Zhao any more time to think. Afraid that Abacus Su might think he was an accomplice, Envoy Lin grabbed a brass ladle from Old Guo’s cart and banged it against an iron wok like an alarm bell: CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
“Guards! City Patrol! Lord Pei! Help!” Envoy Lin yelled at the top of his lungs. “Five unauthorized flying hooligans just snuck over the east wall without paying the entry toll! They smashed a public street tile, squashed my overtime egg, and are trying to kidnap a registered Ward 3 Model Worker! Catch them! If I help report them, does it count toward my good-behavior bonus?!”
Up on the third-floor balcony of the bathhouse, Abacus Su’s spectacles flashed white in the lantern light. He leaned over the railing and shouted down into the square:
“Debtor #216 Lin Cang! For actively reporting five wall-climbing tax-evaders and defending municipal road property, your fine is hereby reduced by fifty Spirit Stones—and Old Guo is authorized to give you two free braised eggs!”
“Long live Lord Pei! Long live Director Su!” Envoy Lin cheered, immediately squatting down behind the iron cart and pointing at Senior Brother Zhao’s boots. “Officers, they’re right there! Their flying swords are in the pouches on their left hips! Don’t let them run!”
In the middle of the lantern-lit street, Senior Brother Zhao and his four red-robed juniors stood surrounded by thousands of pointing, laughing townspeople.
Senior Brother Zhao’s face burned hotter than a furnace, his veins bulging on his forehead as his hand trembled on the hilt of his flying sword.
“You... you shameless traitor!” Senior Brother Zhao shrieked, his voice echoing across the rooftops as red fire-Qi exploded around his body. “You traded the glory of the Crimson Cloud Immortal Sect for two boiled eggs?! Fine! Since you want to stay in this mud pit so badly, I will burn you and this entire mortal market into ashes together!”
Up on the bathhouse balcony, Pei Xuan set his empty teacup down on the railing and smiled faintly.
“He wants to fly up and use fire spells in my night market?” Pei Xuan tapped his finger against the glowing blue Fusion Cube icon in his vision. “Let’s see how high an Immortal can bounce when gravity goes up ten times.”