Lin Feng knelt in Qingshui Village's dusty square, sweat mixing with blood from his bandaged wounds as he carved runes into a Qi-powered waterwheel frame. The sun beat down, and the western provinces' cracked fields stretched endlessly around him. The Jade Pendant pulsed against his chest, its runes faintly glowing since granting irrigation blueprints in the archive. His court victory had secured Qingshui as his proving ground, but Prince Zhao's Crimson Claw bandits, backed by Sect Master Yun, had struck yesterday, and their messenger's threat—tribute or destruction—loomed. Su Mei's icy rescue and Li Xiyue's suspicious Qi crystals fueled his drive, but her jasmine-scented motives gnawed at him. Elder Mo's scroll of his mother's rune tweaks lay open, guiding his hands.
The water wheel's array was nearly stable, channeling spiritual springs through gears powered by Li Xiyue's latest Qi crystal. Lin Feng's engineer's mind buzzed, refining the pendant's blueprints—canals to flood the fields, and qi flows to sustain them. Last night's test ran for two minutes, the longest yet, but his crippled meridians blocked the final spark. He smeared blood on the pendant, its glow flaring. The array hummed, water trickling into a test canal, and villagers, led by Elder Chen Lao, watched with guarded hope. "One more day," Chen said, squinting. "Then we're yours, prince."
A horn blared from the hills. Dust rose as ten Crimson Claw bandits charged, their low-Qi condensation auras crackling, led by a wiry captain with a scarred lip. "Zhao's done waiting!" he roared, drawing a curved blade. "Burn Qingshui, take the cripple's head!" Lin Feng's heart raced—Zhao's escalation. The two palace soldiers drew swords, outnumbered, as villagers grabbed pitchforks, fear in their eyes.
Lin Feng clutched the pendant, its heat surging. "Hold them!" he shouted, sprinting towards the waterwheel. If he could activate it, the array's Qi burst might repel the bandits. He adjusted the crystal, blood dripping onto the runes. The gears spun, water surging, but sparks flew, threatening to fail. A bandit's Qi blast rocked the square, shattering a hut. Lin Feng ducked, pain searing his ribs, and kept working, the pendant's blueprint guiding his hands.
A white flash cut through the chaos. Su Mei's sword slashed, severing the captain's blade. Her icy aura froze the air, and she spun, kicking a bandit into the dirt, his skull crackling. "Focus, prince!" she snapped, parrying two more blades. A villager fell, screaming, and Lin Feng's jaw clenched. He smeared more blood on the pendant, its runes blazing. The array roared, water flooded the canal, and a Qi pulse erupted, knocking three bandits flat.
The villagers rallied, Chen Lao swinging a hand to down a thug. Su Mei fought like a storm, her sword in a blur, falling to him. The captain lunged at Lin Feng, qi crackling, but Su Mei intercepted, her strike sending him sprawling. "Flee, or die," she said, her voice cold. The remaining bandits ran, cursing, as the captain staggered away, bloodied.
Lin Feng panted, the waterwheel still spinning, water flowing steadily now. Villagers cheered, Chen Lao gripped his shoulder. "You did it, Prince," he said, eyes bright. "Qingshui's yours." Lin Feng grinned, exhaustion hitting her. The array wasn't perfect, but it was working-proof for the west.
Su Mei approached, wiping blood from her blade. "You're reckless," she said, her icy gaze softening. "But that toy is no joke. Zhao's bandits won't stop, and Yun's watching." She paused, her voice low. "Don't make me save you again." Her lips twitched, almost a smile, before she vanished into the dusk, leaving warmth in Lin Feng's chest.
Night fell, and a cart rolled into Qingshui. Li Xiyue stepped down, her dark silks glinting, a crate of jade and three Qi crystals at her feet. "You're winning, prince," she said, smiling sharply. "My trade routes need your water. These are free—for now." Her jasmine scent sharpened his suspicions, but the crystals glowed bright, promising stability for the array.
"Why charity, Lady Li?" Lin Feng asked, his voice hard.
"Business," she said, eyes glinting. "A prince who fights bandits is a good investment." She leaned closer, her breath warm. "Don't lose my gold." She left her motives as a shadow.
Elder Mo arrived under moonlight, his armor creaking. "Zhao's bandits are Yun's pawns," he said, tossing a small vial of Qi-infused salve. "Your mother used these arrays to defy sects. Keep going, but watch that merchant. She's got her own game." Lin Feng nodded, applying the salve, the pain eased. Mo's scroll had saved the array, and the pendant's blueprints were on his edge.
Lin Feng worked through the night, slotting a new crystal and carving Mo's runes. The waterwheel spun, water flooding the canal for five minutes without sparking. Villagers gathered, hope replacing fear. Chen Lao clasped his back. "You've got us, prince. Build more, and the west will follow."
But hoofbeats echoed again. A Crimson Claw rider appeared, scroll in hand. "Prince Zhao demands Qingshui's surrender at dawn, or Yun's elite strike," he sneered, tossing it and riding it off. Lin Feng unrolled it, finding a map of bandit camps circling Qingshui, Zhao's next trap. The pendant pulsed, its glow steady. He'd saved the village once, but the war had just started. He'd finish the irrigation, defy Zhao, and make the west his own.