Two months had passed since Li Yuan left Qingxi Valley. His journey had taken him higher and higher into the towering mountains—not the same mountains where he had cultivated a year ago, but a different range, further to the west, where the peaks were so high they were always shrouded in clouds.
The air grew thinner as he ascended, but his consciousness body did not need oxygen like a normal flesh body. He only felt a deepening silence—a silence that could only be found in high places where even birds were reluctant to fly.
The path he followed was almost invisible—more like a mountain goat's trail than a man-made one. But through his Wenjing Realm, he heard the whispers of human life above, hidden among the mist-covered peaks.
How interesting, he thought with curiosity. Who would choose to live in such an isolated and difficult-to-access place?
After days of climbing, Li Yuan finally broke through the thick layer of clouds and arrived at a high plateau hidden between several of the highest peaks. The sight that opened before him made even someone who had lived for fifteen thousand years pause for a moment in admiration.
A small kingdom—no more than a city surrounded by a few villages—stood on this high plateau. The buildings were built from gray stone cut from the mountain itself, with sloping roofs to withstand the snow that surely fell in winter. Suspension bridges connected separate cliffs, swaying gently in the high wind.
But what most caught Li Yuan's attention was the vertical architecture—towering spires, stairs carved into the side of the cliffs, and platforms that floated over deep ravines. This kingdom was not built horizontally like most settlements, but vertically, utilizing every available rock surface.
And above it all, stood a magnificent palace—carved directly from the highest mountain peak, as if the mountain itself had been transformed into a dwelling.
Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan heard the intentions of the thousands of souls living in this place: a strong resolve, a deep pride in their home, but also... tension. There was a conflict simmering beneath the surface, like magma waiting to erupt.
An internal conflict, he realized. Not with an external enemy, but within the kingdom itself.
Li Yuan walked toward the city gates—a massive structure carved from solid rock with iron-reinforced wooden doors. Two guards stood there, wearing thick leather armor and carrying spears with sharply honed volcanic stone tips.
"Stop," one of the guards commanded, but his tone was more curious than hostile. "It is rare for a newcomer to find their way to Yunfeng Kingdom. What is your purpose here?"
"I am a wanderer," Li Yuan answered with simplicity. "I heard the whispers of the wind about a kingdom in the clouds, and I wanted to know what makes people choose to live in such a high place."
The second guard—a woman with a scar on her left cheek—looked at Li Yuan with an assessing gaze.
"You speak in a strange way," she said in a cautious tone. "Almost like poetry. Are you a poet or a philosopher?"
"Only someone who has walked long enough to learn that sometimes the truth sounds like poetry," Li Yuan answered with a faint smile.
The two guards exchanged glances, then the first guard nodded.
"Alright. You may enter. But know this: Yunfeng Kingdom is in a... complicated time. There is tension among the noble families. It would be best if you did not interfere in our internal affairs."
"I have no intention of interfering," Li Yuan answered with honesty. "I only wish to observe and understand."
The gates opened, and Li Yuan stepped into Yunfeng Kingdom.
The city was even more impressive from the inside than from the outside. The streets were stone stairs that climbed and descended following the mountain's contours. The houses were built in layers, one on top of another, connected by external stairs and small bridges. In some places, small waterfalls flowed through channels carved into the stone, providing fresh water to every level of the city.
The inhabitants moved with a confidence that came from a lifetime of living at these heights—leaping from platform to platform, walking on suspension bridges without holding the handrails, climbing steep stairs without even their breath quickening.
Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan heard muffled conversations among small groups:
"...King Feng is getting weaker, he can't make decisions anymore..."
"...Prince Tian wants the throne, but Princess Mei has the support of the mountain clans..."
"...if they fight, the whole kingdom could be destroyed..."
A succession crisis, Li Yuan concluded. An aging king, two children competing for the throne, and a kingdom divided in its loyalties.
He found a simple inn carved into the side of a cliff, with windows overlooking a deep ravine. The innkeeper—a middle-aged man named Kang with strong hands from years of climbing—greeted Li Yuan warmly but also with curiosity.
"A wanderer, huh?" Kang said as he led Li Yuan to his room. "We don't get many visitors. The path here is too difficult for most people. You must have a strong reason for coming."
"Curiosity," Li Yuan answered simply. "I was interested in seeing how people live in such an extreme place."
Kang laughed—a deep and genuine sound.
"Extreme? Maybe for outsiders. But for us, this is home. And the best home, if you ask me. No one dares to attack us here. No army can climb these mountains with enough supplies to lay siege to our city. We are safe from war, from invasion, from the greed of the kingdoms in the lowlands."
"But not safe from internal conflict," Li Yuan commented softly.
Kang's expression became more serious.
"Ah, you have already heard. Yes, we have a... complicated situation right now." He looked out the window toward the towering palace. "King Feng has ruled for forty years. He is a good leader—wise, just, caring for his people. But now he is sick. A cough that never stops, a body that is getting weaker. Everyone knows his time is not long."
"And he has two children competing for the throne," Li Yuan completed.
Kang nodded with a worried expression.
"Prince Tian and Princess Mei. Both are intelligent, both are talented, both love this kingdom. But they have very different visions for how the kingdom should be led."
"Different visions how?"
Kang sat on the edge of the window, looking out at the kingdom below.
"Prince Tian believes that we should open ourselves to the outside world. He wants to build a better path to the lowlands, start trading with other kingdoms, maybe even join a regional alliance. He argues that our isolation makes us weak—that we are falling behind in technology, in knowledge, in wealth."
"And Princess Mei?"
"Princess Mei believes that our isolation is our strength. She argues that as soon as we open ourselves up, we will lose our independence. That the larger kingdoms will exploit us, take our resources, maybe even conquer us. She wants to maintain our traditional way of life, to remain hidden in the clouds."
Li Yuan listened with deep attention. This was not a simple conflict between good and evil—it was an authentic tension between two valid visions for the future, each with their own merits and drawbacks.
"And the people?" he asked. "Where do they stand?"
"Divided," Kang answered with sadness. "The mountain clans who have lived here for generations support Princess Mei. They value tradition, independence, a way of life that has served us well for hundreds of years. But the merchants, artisans, and the young people—many of them support Prince Tian. They want to see the world, want to learn new things, want a chance for more than just surviving on this harsh mountain."
Kang looked at Li Yuan with a desperate expression.
"And our greatest fear is that when King Feng dies, the kingdom will be torn apart by civil war. Brother against sister, clan against clan, family against family. Everything we have built over hundreds of years could be destroyed in a matter of weeks."
Li Yuan sat in silence for a while, contemplating this situation. Through his Wenjing Realm, he could hear the increasing tension throughout the city—heated conversations, hardening loyalties, preparations for a conflict that might soon come.
"May I ask," he finally said, "has there been any attempt to find a compromise? To find a middle ground between these two visions?"
Kang shook his head bitterly.
"King Feng has tried. He has held meeting after meeting, asking his children to work together, pleading with the people not to take sides too harshly. But when a person is sick and weak, their words lose power. And his two children... they are so certain that their vision is the right one that they cannot see the value in the other's vision."
Li Yuan nodded with understanding. He had seen this pattern countless times in his thousands of years of travel: a conflict born not of malice, but of beliefs that were too strong, of an inability to see the partial truth on both sides.
"Perhaps," he said in a tone that carried the depth of his thoughts, "the problem is not that one of them is wrong, but that both are too focused on their own vision that they forget that a kingdom is not about abstract ideas—it is about the people who live here, who will suffer if conflict breaks out."
Kang looked at Li Yuan with a hopeful expression.
"Will you... will you speak to them? You seem to have a wisdom that goes beyond your years. Perhaps they will listen to someone from the outside, someone who is not taking sides."
Li Yuan contemplated this request seriously. He had promised himself not to interfere in the internal affairs of this kingdom, to only observe. But through his Wenjing Realm, he heard the growing fear among the people—the fear that their home, a place they had built with great difficulty at these challenging heights, would be destroyed by a conflict that should be avoidable.
One month, he decided. I will stay here for one month. If I can help them find a peaceful way, I will do it. But if not, I will leave and let them determine their own fate.
"I will stay here for a while," Li Yuan finally answered. "And if an opportunity arises to speak with Prince Tian or Princess Mei, I will take it. But I promise nothing. Sometimes, people have to learn their own lessons, even if those lessons are painful."
Kang nodded with deep gratitude.
"That is more than we could ask for. Thank you, wanderer. Perhaps your presence here is a sign that it is not too late to avoid disaster."
Li Yuan did not answer, only looked out the window at the kingdom that stretched below—a kingdom suspended in the clouds, caught between tradition and change, between isolation and openness, between two visions of the future that each held their own truth.
And somewhere in the towering palace on the highest mountain peak, a dying king was trying desperately to prevent the kingdom he loved from self-destruction.
Li Yuan's journey in Yunfeng Kingdom had just begun.