That evening, as the sun set behind the distant western dunes of the Red-Sand Wastes, the entire Central Continent lit up brighter than noon.
From the border towns of Great Yan to the bustling ports of the Eastern Plains, over eighty million citizens hung red paper lanterns outside their doors, set off strings of Boom-Pot Sun’s two-copper celebration firecrackers, and poured into the public squares for the first-ever Continental Free Qi Festival!
And why wouldn’t they celebrate?
For one thousand and two hundred years, the common people of the Central Continent had lived under the iron boots of the Four Great Immortal Sects.
In the old days, if a farmer’s child got sick, a single dirty healing pill from Myriad-Pill Pavilion cost fifty Spirit Stones—more than a mortal village earned in ten years.
If a merchant wanted to borrow money to buy seeds or ox-carts, the Joyous-Gold Sect’s banks charged fifty percent monthly interest and seized his house if he was one day late.
If a traveler wanted to cross a mountain range or send a letter to his mother, the Heavenly-Lock Array Sect charged a hundred Spirit Stones at their teleport gates and locked up anyone who tried to draw a simple warming array at home.
