"He said he felt like he was reaching for something that wasn't there."
Yuming heard this and immediately leaned forward. Yang Qinru, despite being of higher cultivation, felt her palms grow damp under his gaze.
Yang Guowei tried to change the topic of the conversation. "We are selling a batch of our renowned spirit wine soon. We'll surely have the money—and more!"
Yuming didn't spare him a glance. "Have failed breakthroughs like this happened before?"
"N- no, this is a freak accident, Young Master."
Yuming let out a helpless sigh and leaned back. "Then it can't be helped. Your noble family failed to provide payment in time without sufficient reason. It is my obligation to report this to the Family."
Yiling heard this and unconsciously shifted her foot away from Yuming's.
Yang Guowei's face went white again, and he stammered, "W-well, Young Master, it's not that this never happened before, this is just the most extreme example."
Yang Qinru closed her eyes briefly, as if accepting something inevitable. Her cup clinked softly as she set it down. "Young Master, you're right. This has happened before."
"Oh?"
Yang Qinru eyed Yang Guowei, who gave a resigned nod of approval, and began, "Young Master may not be aware, but years ago, my Yang Family was a Foundation Establishment family."
Yuming loomed slightly closer.
"But the Old Ancestor died of old age thirty years ago. After that, my Senior Brother, who inherited his legacy, failed to breakthrough."
"Did he have the same problem as Yang Chengjun?"
Yang Qinru paused for a moment and shook her head. "No, he—he died attempting his breakthrough."
"My condolences," Yiling added.
"Thank you," Yang Qinru smiled. "Since then, no one has managed to break through to Foundation Establishment… and Qi Condensation has become increasingly difficult."
Yuming's first thought was: Are they being manipulated?
Then he steadied his thoughts and tried not to let his paranoia lead to bias.
It could just be bad luck.
But Yang Chengjun's words convinced him otherwise.
It could be structural.
Yuming didn't understand what enemies a Qi Condensation family could possibly have that could manipulate things to this extent—if they were that strong, why not just wipe them out directly?
He forced himself to think through the lens of karma, which in his mind was a concept of the utmost importance. But he knew very little about the workings of karma—he only had speculations.
Yuming leaned back in his seat and rested his hands. "I understand that your noble family has fallen on hard times. This could be considered a reasonable excuse. But, I will have to check over your records to make sure accounts match."
Yang Qinru stood. "Of course, Young Master. Our record hall is this way."
As they walked through the compound's corridors, Yiling fell into step beside Yuming. She kept her voice low. "Why are you being so harsh with them?"
Yuming didn't look at her. "I'm doing my job."
"Your job is to collect tribute, not interrogate them about their family history."
"Our job," Yuming said quietly, "is to understand why they can't pay. That requires verification."
Yiling blinked. "The Family will make all of that fuss over one or two spirit stones?"
Yuming smiled. "Today it's one, tomorrow it's two, next week it's ten. Our Liu Family got to where it is today by demanding perfection."
Yiling felt a flash of familial pride, and decided Yuming was being reasonable.
The record hall was smaller than Yuming expected—a single room with shelves of jade slips, bound ledgers, and scroll cases organized by year.
Yang Qinru gestured to a section. "Our spirit root testing records are here, Young Master. Birth records, cultivation progress, breakthrough attempts—all documented."
Yuming approached the shelves, his fingers trailing along the spines. Each ledger was labeled by five-year period. He pulled one down at random: Years 76-80.
Yuming was puzzled. "Year seventy-six, year eighty. What marks Year One?"
Yang Qinru hesitated momentarily and smiled awkwardly, "The founding of the Jade Spring Kingdom."
Jade Spring Kingdom—could it be related to Jade Spring City?
Yuming and Yiling had passed over an old city called 'Jade Spring' shortly before arriving at Reed Harbor—the city was only about a third of Reed Harbor's size.
Yang Qinru rushed to explain herself. "My small family only uses this as a reference, we would not dare call ourselves kings."
Some smaller clans within Xia Prefecture formed kingdoms and dynasties. The Liu Family didn't mind this—as far as Yuming knew—but it was considered disrespectful to call yourself royalty in front of a Liu.
Yuming waved his hand. "No matter, let me look at the records."
Yuming began to read.
Years 76-80: 24 spirit roots, 11 false roots, 10 low-grade, 3 medium-grade.
Years 81-86: 26 spirit roots, 13 false roots, 11 low-grade, 2 medium-grade.
Yuming scrolled through the records. Most periods had around twenty-five spirit roots. The distribution made Yuming ponder slightly: the average aptitude was certainly lower than the Liu Family's.
But as he scrolled further, he noticed the spirit roots became fewer and fewer. The most recent five-year interval only had nine positive tests, six of which were false roots.
Yuming had originally assumed that this had to do with the demise of their Foundation Establishment cultivator—but their last Old Ancestor had died only thirty years ago, while the decline was over seventy years old.
Seventy years ago, the Yang Family actually had two Foundation Establishment cultivators, yet they still declined.
One more thing caught Yuming's eye—their immortal foundations.
Yuming knew that a cultivator established an "immortal foundation" during their foundation establishment—although he didn't know much more than that. Both Foundation Establishment cultivators formed the "Sanctuary Ward Domain" foundation. Many other cultivators in the family cultivated techniques that would lead to that foundation.
I should try to look at that later.
Yuming was about to ask Yang Qinru more questions when a sound split the air.
BOOM.
The floor trembled. Tea rippled in cups. Dust fell from the rafters in thin streams. Yuming's head snapped toward the window. Outside, something had just broken the sound barrier.
Yang Qinru was already standing, her face drained of color. "That came from the south gate."
A second boom followed, then a third, moving closer.
Yang Guowei stumbled to his feet. "Qinru, is that—"
"Get the disciples to the walls," she cut him off. "Now."
He didn't argue and ran off.
Yuming moved to the window. In the distance, over the reed slums, smoke was rising—multiple fires.
Yiling appeared beside him. "What's happening?"
"I don't know," Yuming said quietly.
Yang Qinru was already at the door. She paused, turned back. "Young Masters, please remain in the compound. You'll be safe here."
"Who's attacking you?" Yuming asked.
Her jaw tightened. "The Shen family."
"Shen?" Yuming didn't recognize the name.
"Some old dogs," she said bitterly. "We have similar origins—they were vassals. Fifty years ago, they tried to break away, we killed most of their leaders."
She sighed helplessly. "I thought we'd wiped them out."
Another boom made the walls shake. Yang Qinru turned into a stream of light and disappeared.
A few minutes later, on the compound walls.
Yuming and Yiling had followed despite the warning. They stood on the eastern wall of the Yang compound, watching the chaos unfold below.
The outer city was burning. Reed slums collapsed into the marsh as flames devoured stilts and thatched roofs. People ran in every direction—some toward the inner city, some into the wetlands, some just running.
And above it all, two figures moved like gods.
The first was Yang Qinru. She stood on empty air above the copper gates, her robes fluttering in wind that wasn't there. Her hands moved in precise patterns, and with each gesture, illusory barriers flickered into existence—walls of pale light that lit up the sky.
The second figure was a man in dark red robes. He moved faster than Yuming's eyes could track, leaving afterimages that blurred together. Each time he struck, heat flared—not blazing, but suffocating.
The air around him thinned and warped with his impacts, with waves of ember-heat rolling out from each strike.
Yang Qinru's barrier caught a strike. The pale wall flexed, but held.
Then shattered.
The shockwave rolled outward. Buildings beneath them exploded into splinters. The refugee camp below them was gone in an instant.
Yuming's breath caught.
"Oh mercy," Yiling whispered.
Yang Qinru didn't flinch. She raised both hands and the air around her hardened, and another, thicker barrier formed.
The Shen cultivator struck again. His fist blazed with condensed qi, visible even from this distance, and hit the barrier.
There was no shatter this time. The two forces ground against each other, causing the air to wail. The two held firm for three whole seconds before Yang Qinru's barrier peeled away in layers.
Yang Qinru twisted her body away and repositioned herself, but she was still bleeding. She formed another, weaker barrier,
Below them, the Paper Quarter of Reed Harbor had become an inferno. Thousands of newly-homeless people pressed towards the inner gates, screaming and trampling each other. Yang Family disciples tried to hold the line, but there was too much panic.
A building collapsed, and many of the screams were cut off.
Yiling was gripping the wall's edge, her knuckles white. "We have to do something."
"Like what?" Yuming asked.
"Call for help!" She turned to him with her eyes wide. "We have emergency talismans, we can call the Family!"
I need to find a way to deal with the Zhan Branch—I need to figure out what the Family wants to do to me.
Yuming stood up straight and looked towards the fire with open eyes.
If the Family gets involved now, I won't have that chance.
Seeing he didn't respond, Yiling spoke again—with a sharper voice. "Yuming, people are dying."
"I know."
"Then—"
"If we call the Liu Family," Yuming began, eyes still on the fight, "it will take them some time to get here. The fight might already be over."
Yiling was incredulous, and she started to pull her talisman out of her sleeve. "But there's still a chance, if they come—"
Yuming slammed his palm against the wall. "Yiling!"
Yiling took a step back. "W-what?"
"Do you really think the Family cares? Will they not make things worse?"
"Make things worse?" she said softly, backing into a corner.
Yuming leaned close to her, whispering into her ear.
"Look at all of the refugees across Xia Prefecture…" he began.
Yiling looked below at the ragged bodies that crawled over each other.
"Yiling, they say it's natural disasters. In Xia Prefecture, what natural disaster would dare show its face without our Liu Family's permission?"