Lin Feng's bloodied hands gripped the Qi-powered waterwheel model, its gears gleaming under the Tianyu Palace's pre-dawn glow. The court's judgment loomed—prove his invention could save the western provinces or face execution for treason, framed by Prince Zhao and Sect Master Yun's crimson-claw sect. The Jade Pendant burned against his chest, its runes blazing since its voice declared, "Star Key alignment: 95%," at the archive's black jade gate. His mother's words—"Trust your heart, not your veins"—echoed, tied to Elder Mo's warning about her sacrifice. Li Xiyue's final Qi crystal, slotted into the model, was his last hope, but her jasmine-scented aid sparked distrust. Dawn was breaking, and Zhao's trap was closing.
Lin Feng tested out the model, his engineer's mind sharp despite his wounds. The array channels Qi to spin gears, pulling water from spiritual springs. Last night's test ran for thirty seconds, the pendant guiding him with faint blueprints—energy flows, precise alignments. He smeared blood from his gashed palm onto the pendant, its runes flaring green. The model whirred, the water sloshing for a full minute before the crystal flickered. "Almost," he growled, his heart pounding. His crippled meridians blocked the final spark, but the pendant's voice was a roar in his mind.
A shout shattered the courtyard's silence. "Fifth Prince!" The gate burst open, and a sect elder in crimson-claw robes stormed in, flanked by four thugs, their late-Qi Condensation auras crackling like fire. The elder, his face etched with scars, sneered. "Secret Master Yun demands the pendant. Your treason ends now." Lin Feng's stomach twisted. This was Zhao's final trap, timed to stop him before the court.
He grabbed the model, backing toward the palace alleys. "You'll have to kill me," he said, his voice steady despite the blood dripping from his arm. The elder's sword flashed, Qi slicing the air. Lin Feng dove, tossing broken gear to distract a thug. The model clattered, but he kept running, sprinting towards the archive. The black jade gate was his only shot—the pendant's voice thrived there. The thugs chased, their auras like hounds, blades grazing his back as he weaved through shadows.
The archive lock snapped under his hairpin. Lin Feng stumbled inside. The gate loomed, its dragon carvings glinting. He slammed his bloody hand against it, the pendant blazing. "Star Key alignment: 98%," the voice boomed. Runes flared, the gate shaking, but it held. "Open, damn it!" he yelled, slicing his palm deeper, blood pooling. The pendant's glow blinded, and a voice roared: "Alignment complete. Activating the Ancient Technological Archive. Host: Lin Feng."
A surge flooded his mind—blueprints, intricate and clear: AI-powered irrigation arrays, waterwheels with spiritual springs, channels to revive the west's rivers. Knowledge burned, his head throbbing, but his engineer's mind latched onto it, gears and arrays clicking into place. The gate hummed, runes blazing, but it didn't open. The pendant's heat steadied him—it was enough.
The elder burst in, his sword raised. "No more tricks, cripple!" His Qi wave knocked Lin Feng against the gate, pain searing his ribs. A white flash cut through Su Mei, her sword clashing with the elder's, sparks flying. Her icy aura froze the air, and she struck, forcing him back. "Go!" she snapped, parrying a thug's blade. Lin Feng grabbed the model and crystal, bolting down as Su Mei fought, her white robe a blur against the crimson-claw mob.
He reached the Hall of Celestial Harmony, blood-soaked but standing, the model in his hand. The court was packed. Nobles' whispers were sharp. Emperor Tianlong sat on the Jade Throne, his aura crushing. Zhao stood smug, the sect elder's absence unnoticed. Su Mei slipped in, blood on her sleeves, eyes locked on Lin Feng. Li Xiyue stood among the merchants, her jade hairpin glinting, her face unreadable. Elder Mo leaned against a pillar, nodding slightly.
"Fifth Prince," the Emperor said, a voice like iron, "your time's up. Prove your innocence or die."
Lin Feng stepped forward, his model raised. "This waterwheel ends the west's drought," he said, the voice ringing. "No treason, only service." He slotted the crystal, smearing blood on the pendant. Its runes flared, and the blueprint in his mind guided his hands. The gears spun, the water flowing smoothly, no sparks. The court gasped, nobles leaning forward. Zhao's smirk faltered.
"It works," Lin Feng said, meeting the Emperor's gaze. "The west will thrive, and your treason charge is a lie." He pointed at Zhao. "He framed me, planted sect runes to silence me."
Zhao laughed, venomously. "A cripple's toys? It's a trick!" But the nobles murmured, some nodding. Li Xiyue's voice cut through, calm but sharp. "The west's trade needs water. The Fifth Prince delivers." Her eyes met Lin Feng's, a flicker of respect—or calculation.
Su Mei stepped forward, her voice cold. "The sect runes were Crimson Claws, Zhao's enemies. Judge is the true traitor." Her words stunned the court, and Zhao's face paled.
THE EMPERUS RAISED A HAND, SILENCING THE HILL. "Lin Feng, your waterwheel is proven. The treason charge is dismissed—for now. Serve the west, but know your eyes are watching you." He glared at Zhao, who bowed, fury in his eyes.
Lin Feng exhaled. The pendant's heat fading. Su Mei vanished into the crowd, her glance lingering. Li Xiyue approached him, smiling. "Good bet, prince," she said. "My gold's safe—for now." Her jasmine scent sharpened his suspicion, but her aid had held.
Elder Mo clapped his shoulders. "Your mother would be proud. But Yun's not done." He left, his warning heavy.
The court dispersed, and Lin Feng gripped the pendant. Its blueprints were clear in his mind. Zhao's trap had failed, but the war was just beginning. He'd build the west's future and burn through their scorn.