[Black Bone City. The Ancestral Hall.]
The aroma of fried fat and spices hung heavy in the cold night air, a scent so alien and wonderful that it made the soldiers stationed outside the ruins weep.
Jiang Li stood before the altar, the red-and-white paper bucket clutched in her hands. There were five pieces of the "Golden Phoenix" meat left. She had eaten one.
"Lieutenant Zhao," she commanded, her voice steady for the first time in weeks. "Come forward."
Zhao, a man of iron who had taken three arrows to the shoulder without flinching, approached on trembling legs. He stared at the bucket in her hands as if it were the sun itself.
"General... is it true?" he whispered. "Did the Ancestors send food?"
Jiang Li reached into the bucket and pulled out a drumstick. It was still warm. The golden skin was speckled with black pepper.
"Eat," she ordered.
Zhao hesitated. "General, you should save it. You are the commander..."
"I have eaten," she lied. The single piece she had devoured was screaming in her empty stomach, demanding more, but she ignored it. "This is an order, Zhao. Eat."
Zhao took the meat with shaking hands. He took a bite.
The sound of the crunch echoed in the silent hall.
Zhao's eyes widened until the whites showed. He chewed, swallowed, and then let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "Meat... it's meat... and salt... so much salt..."
Salt was more precious than gold in a siege. A soldier without salt had no strength.
"Divide the rest among the squad leaders," Jiang Li said, handing him the bucket. "It is not enough to fill their bellies, but let them taste it. Let them know the Heavens have not abandoned Black Bone City."
Zhao nodded frantically, clutching the bucket like a newborn babe, and ran out to spread the miracle.
Jiang Li remained alone in the darkness. She slumped against the cold stone altar, her "General" mask slipping for a moment. She was just a girl who was tired of watching her family die.
"Great God," she whispered, her voice trembling. "This disciple is unfilial. I have nothing to offer in return for such a feast."
Thump.
The vase vibrated.
Jiang Li flinched. Another gift?
She leaned over the rim.
Resting at the bottom was a vessel of impossible clarity. It wasn't glass—glass was thick and brittle. This material was thin as a cicada's wing, yet when she pressed it, it didn't shatter. It yielded, soft and resilient, bouncing back to its shape like living skin.
Inside sloshed a liquid so pure it was nearly invisible. There was no sediment, no cloudiness. It shimmered with a clarity that made the water in the Imperial Palace look like ditch water.
Jiang Li gripped the blue ring at the top and twisted. Crack. The seal broke.
She lifted it to her lips and took a small sip.
Cool, sweet, and clean.
It slid down her parched throat like silk. Jiang Li closed her eyes, and a single hot tear leaked out. It wasn't just water. It was mercy.
"Water," she breathed. "The God has sent pure water."
But this gift weighed heavy on her heart. In the Great Xia, nothing was free. To receive a gift without returning one was a debt she could not bear.
She frantically patted her waist. Empty. She checked her armor. Nothing.
Wait.
She reached into the hidden lining of her boot. Her fingers brushed against cold metal.
She pulled out a single gold coin. The "Life Money" her father had given her—the toll for the underworld.
Jiang Li looked at the coin, then at the bottle.
"If I die tomorrow, I won't need to pay the toll," she decided. "But if I drink this, I might live to kill a few more barbarians."
"Great God," she whispered. "This is all I have. It is not enough for such a divine artifact, but please accept this humble offering."
She dropped the gold coin into the vase.
Clang.
It vanished instantly.
[The Warehouse. 2026.]
Lu Chen paced back and forth, thumbing the white jade pendant in his hand.
"It's been two minutes," he muttered.
He looked at the carving on the jade—a Phoenix rising from the flames.
"A Phoenix..." he mused. "In the old myths, the Phoenix represents the Empress. Or a woman."
He looked back at the vase.
"So, are you a woman? A Princess?" He paused, worry creeping in. "Did you get the water? Or are you allergic to plastic?"
Clang.
The sound of metal hitting metal rang out sharply.
Lu Chen froze. He scrambled over to the vase. Rolling around the bottom was a coin.
He reached in and snatched it up. Heavy. Crude. Soft gold.
He ran to his digital scale. 30 Grams.
Lu Chen did the math. $1,950.
He stared at the number. Then he looked at the bottle of water remaining on his desk. Cost: 25 cents.
"Almost two thousand dollars..." he whispered. "For a sip of water."
He should have been ecstatic. He should have been laughing at the profit.
But then he looked at the Jade Pendant again. He looked at the dark, dried bloodstain on the corner.
A realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
"Who pays two thousand dollars for a bottle of water?" he asked the empty warehouse. "Who pays a fortune for a bucket of leftover chicken bones?"
Only someone who has nothing.
Only someone who is dying.
"You're starving," Lu Chen whispered, the realization turning his blood cold. "Whoever you are... you're starving to death."
The playfulness vanished from his face. This wasn't a game. It wasn't just a business deal.
He looked at the pallets of "unsold trash" filling his warehouse. Biscuits. Beans. Water.
To him, it was debt. To her—the Phoenix—it was life.
Lu Chen grabbed a box cutter. His movements were no longer casual; they were urgent.
"You want water?" he said to the vase, his voice fierce. "I'll give you water."
He slashed a pallet open. He grabbed an armful of bottles.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"You want food?"
He ran to the crate of compressed survival biscuits. "Eat," he grunted, tossing pack after pack into the bronze neck. "Eat up."
[Black Bone City.]
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Objects began to fly out of the vase like a fountain.
More crystal vessels. Stacks of silver bricks. Iron canisters.
Jiang Li stumbled back as the "Manna from Heaven" poured out, burying the Jade Pendant and the Gold Coin she had sent.
She fell to her knees, facing the pile.
"One gold coin..." she choked out, tears finally breaking through her stoic mask. "I gave one coin... and the God returned a mountain."
She slammed her forehead onto the floor, sobbing.
"This is not a trade," she wept. "This is salvation."
She wiped her eyes. The desperation was gone. In its place was the cold, hard steel of a Warlord who had just been given a second chance.
"Lieutenant Zhao!" she roared, her voice echoing off the stone walls like thunder.
"Bring the carts! Tonight, the Army of Xia fights on a full stomach!"