Li Yuan continued his journey toward the kingdom with a calm stride, leaving the outpost and its officials to reflect on the conversation that had just taken place. The path to the capital was increasingly uphill, taking him higher into the towering mountains with increasingly spectacular views.
Through the small radius of his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan could still pick up the echoes of the intentions at the outpost he had left behind. There was confusion, internal conflict, and most interestingly—there were questions. Lieutenant Chen, in particular, was grappling with the implications of what he had just heard, while Captain Wang was still in shock from the revelation that had shaken his worldview.
The seeds of doubt have been planted, Li Yuan thought. Whether they will grow into wisdom or wither because of fear depends on their individual character.
After walking for three hours through the winding mountain path, Li Yuan began to see the first signs of the actual kingdom. Unlike the purely functional outpost, the structures he saw now showed a sophisticated attention to aesthetics.
Elegant stone bridges spanned ravines, with intricate carvings on their railings. Small pavilions at scenic points provided resting places for travelers, each with a design that was harmonious with the natural landscape. Even the marker stones along the road were made with a craftsmanship that showed a pride in artistry.
Whoever designed this infrastructure has a sense of beauty, Li Yuan observed. Which creates a contrast with the ugly bureaucracy of the lineage verification system.
As the sun began to set, Li Yuan arrived at a second checkpoint—larger and more impressive than the outpost, with an architecture that combined functionality with understated elegance. Here, the traffic was busier with merchants, travelers, and local residents going about their daily business.
What was immediately noticeable was the subtle but clear segregation. There were three different entrances to the checkpoint: one for "Noble Blood" with elaborate decorations, one for "Merchant Class" with practical signage, and one for "Common Folk" which was stark and utilitarian.
Li Yuan stood for a moment, observing the flow of people through the different entrances. Through his Wenjing Realm, he could hear the intentions that revealed the system in action: the humiliation of commoners who were treated like potential criminals, the anxiety of merchants who were worried about their classification, the arrogance of nobles who assumed superiority based on birth.
The same pattern, Li Yuan realized. Arbitrary divisions that create an artificial hierarchy, with psychological effects that damage both the oppressed and the oppressors.
As Li Yuan approached the checkpoint, a guard—different from the officers at the outpost, this was a local guard who seemed less ideological and more pragmatic—looked at him with an assessing expression.
"Which entrance?" the guard asked.
Li Yuan looked at the three options. Technically, based on his adoptive family's background, he probably qualified for "Common Folk." But after the experience at the outpost, he was curious about how this system actually worked in practice.
"I'm not sure," Li Yuan answered honestly. "How does a person determine the appropriate entrance?"
The guard—whose name tag read "Sergeant Liu"—looked slightly surprised by the question. "Based on lineage verification and social status. Have you undergone verification at the outpost?"
"Yes, but... the situation was complicated."
Sergeant Liu studied Li Yuan more carefully. "Complicated how?"
Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan could hear genuine curiosity in Sergeant Liu's intention, mixed with professional duty but not with the hostility he had encountered at the outpost.
"The officers at the outpost have not conclusively determined my classification," Li Yuan said, which was technically true. "They... are still considering their options."
Sergeant Liu frowned. "Unusual. Usually the classification is pretty straightforward." He paused, then asked: "What's your name? Maybe I can check the records."
"Li Yuan."
Sergeant Liu went to a small office attached to the checkpoint and returned with a puzzled expression. "No records of you in the system. And no communication from the outpost about a pending case."
Interesting, Li Yuan thought. Either Captain Wang hasn't reported our encounter yet, or he is deliberately withholding information. Either way suggests that our conversation had an impact.
"Perhaps there was a communication delay," Li Yuan suggested.
Sergeant Liu considered this, then made a pragmatic decision. "Look, I don't want to create problems for someone who has already been verified upstream. Use the Merchant Class entrance for now—it's a safe middle ground. If there are issues, they can be sorted out in the main city."
Li Yuan nodded with appreciation. "Thank you for the reasonable approach."
The Merchant Class entrance was a notably different experience from what he had observed from the other entrances. There was a brief inspection of belongings (which in Li Yuan's case was minimal), a polite inquiry about business purposes, and the issuance of a temporary pass that allowed access to the commercial districts.
The process was efficient but not degrading, treating people with basic respect while still maintaining security protocols. Li Yuan could see that in a different context, this could be a model for reasonable border control—if it were not corrupted by arbitrary social hierarchies.
After passing the checkpoint, Li Yuan continued his journey toward the city proper. The path was now paved with smooth stone, with sophisticated drainage systems and regular rest areas. The infrastructure quality was clearly higher than what he had experienced in most of the kingdoms he had visited.
They have the resources and expertise to create beautiful, functional systems, Li Yuan observed. But they are choosing to use those resources to reinforce social divisions rather than serve all citizens equally.
As evening approached, Li Yuan began to see the lights of the main city in the distance—not the scattered lights of a village, but the organized glow of a major population center that was well-planned and prosperous.
The city itself was built in terraces that followed the natural contours of the mountainside, with each level connected by elegant steps and ramps. The architecture was a harmonious mixture of traditional mountain styles with innovations that showed engineering sophistication.
From a distance, it looked beautiful—like a city designed by people with a deep appreciation for both natural beauty and human needs.
But as Li Yuan got closer, he began to notice details that were less attractive. The different levels of the city were clearly designated for different social classes, with the most elaborate buildings on the highest terraces (closest to the palace visible on the peak) and simpler structures on the lower levels.
More troubling, he could see barriers and checkpoints between the levels—not just symbolic divisions, but physical barriers that controlled movement between the different social strata.
A beautiful city, Li Yuan thought with sadness, but organized around the principle of separation rather than integration. Like a beautiful flower with poison in its roots.
As he entered the city proper through the gate designated for the merchant class, Li Yuan was struck by the contrast between the obvious prosperity and the underlying tension. The streets were clean and well-maintained, the buildings were well-constructed, and the people were reasonably well-dressed. But through his Wenjing Realm, he could hear undertones of fear, resentment, and suppressed anger.
Prosperity built on a foundation of injustice, he realized. Stable on the surface, but with currents of discontent that could become dangerous if not addressed.
Li Yuan found lodging at an inn that catered to the merchant class—comfortable but not luxurious, clean but not elegant. It was perfect for someone who needed a base for observation without attracting attention from either the upper or lower classes.
As he settled in for the night, Li Yuan reflected on the day's experiences. The challenge in the Tianshan Kingdom was different from the challenge in Sancheng, but the underlying pattern was similar: artificial divisions that create suffering and waste human potential.
The question now, he thought, looking out the window at the city that was spread out on the mountainside, is how to approach this problem. A direct confrontation like at the outpost can be effective in individual cases, but systematic change requires a different strategy.
Maybe, he considered, the answer is to find people within the system who are already questioning it, and help them find the courage and wisdom to create change from within.
Tomorrow, he would begin to explore the city more systematically, looking for allies and understanding how the system actually functioned in daily life. Tonight, he would rest and prepare for whatever challenges awaited him in this beautiful but troubled kingdom.