The early morning mist hadn't yet lifted when I stood before the mirror, adjusting the robe my mother had made for me. Crimson as a phoenix's tail, black as the night sky, and traced with subtle embroidery of blooming lotuses and silver-scaled serpents, it wasn't just a robe—it was armor of reputation. In Clear Sky City, especially as the manager of a robe shop backed by the Ye Clan, appearances mattered.
The fabric was spirit-weaved. I didn't ask how many spirit beasts or rare silkworms it had taken. I didn't dare. But just brushing my hand along the sleeve, I felt a gentle surge of spiritual energy ripple faintly across the seams. My mother didn't speak much when she handed it to me, but the unspoken weight of her expectations rested gently on my shoulders.
"Changsheng!" Changhu's voice rang out from below.
I fastened the last jade clasp at my collar and stepped out. My thirteenth brother leaned casually against the handrail of the stairwell, spinning his deadly folding fan in one hand. It was a beautiful thing—silver and red with intricate feathers carved into its spine. The edge glinted coldly; I'd seen it cleave through a training dummy like rice paper.
He eyed me and gave a low whistle. "Well, damn. If I didn't know you, I'd say you're some young master from the Eastern Star Pavilion."
"You flatter me, brother."
"Good. You'll need that confidence." He flicked his fan shut with a snap. "Let's go. These banquet lions are bloodthirsty for gossip."
The restaurant was located at the heart of Merchant Cloud Market, one of the five main markets of Clear Sky City. It towered six stories high, capped in gold-tiled eaves and crimson stone pillars. Carved dragon motifs curled around the doors, and a blue crystal lantern floated perpetually above the entrance, marking it as owned by the Baishi Clan—a Jindan clan whose specialty was rare wines and ceremonial treasures.
Each floor was guarded by Foundation Building cultivators dressed in crimson and white, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted spirit beast meat and burning sandalwood.
Inside, the banquet was held on the fifth floor—a wide, open hall encircled by translucent spirit barriers that gave glimpses of the cityscape outside. Dozens of young cultivators milled about, dressed in finery that sparkled with defensive arrays and embedded talismans.
They turned to look as we entered. I stood taller.
Changhu leaned in, whispering, "Don't look at their clothes. Look at the rings, the belts. That's where the money and protection go."
"Noted," I murmured.
A girl in sea-blue robes raised a wine cup in our direction. Her robe shimmered with moonlight silk.
"That's Lan Yue of the Whitemist Sect. Don't flirt. She'll skin you with words alone," Changhu muttered.
"Got it."
He spent the next few minutes introducing me to the others.
Li Wanshi, heir to the Baishi Clan(jinwu kingdom), her presence calm and calculating.
Fan Jin, son of the Ironsaber Sect elder, built like a bear and suspiciously fond of raw spirit meat.
Yin Ruhai, a casual cultivator whose rise in the last three years had startled half the kingdom—rumors said he was a disciple of a wandering Nascent Soul cultivator from a different continent.
And there were others—too many to remember at once. But their names would linger.
At one point, conversation drifted toward the structure of the kingdom.
"You're Ye Changsheng, aren't you?" asked a dark-haired youth. He wore the crest of the Lushwood Sect.
I nodded. "That's me."
He grinned. "Clear Sky Province is your turf, then."
A girl nearby chimed in, "Bet you won't find a better place for spiritual medicine trade than our Sunstream Province. Cloudweaver Clan owns half the fields."
"Please." Another voice cut in, belonging to a tall cultivator with twin sabers at his waist. "Everyone knows only Ironridge Province breeds proper warriors."
Their debate turned good-natured, and I took the chance to absorb their words.
The Azurewind Kingdom had six provinces:
Clear Sky Province, ruled by our Ye Clan. Strategic trade routes, famed for alchemy and trade guilds.
Sunstream Province, under the Cloudweaver Clan, known for spiritual herb fields and alchemical production.
Ironridge Province, ruled by the Ironsaber Sect, military stronghold.
Frostvale Province, under the Whitemist Sect, silent forests, beast tamers and illusionists.
Lushwood Province, under the Lushwood Clan, famed for formation masters and spiritual planters.
Twilight Shadow Province, officially within Azurewind's borders but controlled by the Jinwu Sect, a Nascent Soul power whose real base lies in the Jinwu Kingdom to the east. They occupy the province for strategic purposes, and rumor has it the sect is stretched thin across wars on other borders.
No Nascent Soul cultivators openly resided in Azurewind outside Jinwu's reach.
Talk drifted to foreign lands—the Blightfire Empire to the south, known for cursed flames and mad alchemists. The Thousand Petal Union across the western mountains, ruled by seven Nascent Soul matriarchs. And the Crimson Sea Territories, where oceanic sects warred beneath the waves.
It was exhilarating.
These weren't dusty pages in a clan book. These were real people, real powers. And I was a part of it now.
As the feast ended, Changhu nudged me.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I'll introduce you to the smaller merchant networks. If you want your shop to stand out, you'll need friends—and rivals."
I nodded slowly, eyes drifting to the glowing skyline of Clear Sky City beyond the barrier. So many lights, so many lives.
I was only beginning to understand the weight of what I carried—and the scale of what lay ahead.
But one step at a time.
For now, I was Ye Changsheng of the Ye Clan. A robe shop manager.
And this banquet was only the beginning.