Li Yuan spent two more days identifying who truly controlled the slave trade in Zhardar. It wasn't the individual merchants—they were just small cogs in a larger machine. It wasn't the guards or the auctioneers—they were just paid workers.
The true power lay with the Zhardar Merchant Council—five wealthy individuals who controlled all aspects of the city's commerce, including the slave trade that generated nearly half of the city's revenue.
They were the ones who set prices, controlled trade routes, and made the rules about how "wares" should be treated to maximize profit while minimizing loss.
And on the seventh night in Zhardar, Li Yuan decided to meet with them.
The Merchant Council's meeting house was a magnificent building in the city center—a three-story structure built from white stone imported from afar, with intricate columns and stained-glass windows that displayed incredible wealth.
Li Yuan walked past the guards at the front door without them noticing—his presence was so quiet, so inconspicuous that their eyes passed right over him as if he were a shadow.
He climbed the marble staircase to the meeting room on the top floor, where the five Council members were gathered for dinner—a table laden with luxurious food, expensive wine, and efficiently serving attendants.
Li Yuan stepped into the room, and for the first time, he allowed his presence to be felt.
The conversation stopped abruptly. The five Council members—four men and one woman, all dressed in conspicuous luxury—turned to stare at the intruder with a mix of anger and shock.
"Who are you?" one of them—a portly man named Raheem with a neatly trimmed beard—shouted. "How did you get in here? Guards!"
"The guards won't come," Li Yuan said in a voice that was calm but carried an authority that silenced everyone in the room. "I've ensured this conversation will not be interrupted."
He walked closer to the table, his eyes sweeping over the faces that showed a mixture of anger, fear, and confusion.
"My name is not important. What is important is why I'm here: to talk to you about the slave trade you control."
The woman among them—named Salma, with sharp eyes and a confident posture—rose from her chair.
"If this is about price negotiations or a trade license, there are proper procedures. You can't just—"
"This is not about business negotiations," Li Yuan cut in with a cold tone. "This is about giving you one chance—one last chance—to end this trade peacefully."
The silence that fell over the room was heavy with tension.
Raheem was the first to recover from his shock, his voice changing from fear to defensive anger.
"End it? Do you know how much of this city's economy depends on this trade? Thousands of jobs, taxes that fund our infrastructure, commerce that brings prosperity—"
"Prosperity built on suffering," Li Yuan interrupted with absolute coldness. "Prosperity purchased with the blood and tears of those who have no choice."
Another Council member—a thin man named Tariq—spoke in a tone that tried to sound rational.
"Sir, with all due respect, you don't seem to understand the reality of this world. Slavery has existed for thousands of years. It's a part of how society functions. Without slaves, who would work in the mines? Who would do the jobs that free people won't?"
"Free people," Li Yuan answered simply, "if they are paid a decent wage and treated with dignity. But you are not interested in that solution because it cuts into your profits."
Salma stepped forward, her eyes assessing Li Yuan in a different way than the others.
"You speak with the authority of someone who believes he has the power to change systems. But you are only one man. Even if you kill all of us tonight, other merchants will take our place. The system will continue."
"You are right," Li Yuan conceded. "The system would continue if the only thing that changed was the leadership. But what I am offering is not merely a change in leadership."
He looked into the eyes of each of them, one by one.
"I offer you a choice: End the slave trade voluntarily. Use your wealth to build an economy that does not depend on suffering. Free those you own and compensate them for the years stolen from them."
"Do this, and you can transition to something better without violence, without destruction."
Raheem laughed—a cynical, disbelieving sound.
"And if we refuse? What will you do? One man against an entire city?"
Li Yuan did not answer immediately. Instead, he made a decision he had avoided for thousands of years.
He released the Binding Comprehension of Sky.
The effect was not instant, but gradual—like a mist slowly revealing a boundless landscape.
The air in the room began to feel... different. Vaster. As if the walls of the room were no longer solid but transparent, as if the ceiling had vanished and above it stretched an endless cosmic expanse.
The Council members felt the change in a way that made them profoundly uncomfortable. Their breaths became shorter—not from a lack of air, but from the feeling that they... were insignificant. That their existence, their ambitions, their wealth, everything they considered important—it was all just dust floating under an infinite sky.
Raheem took a step back, his hand fumbling for the back of a chair for balance. His face turned pale.
"What... what are you doing?"
Salma tried to maintain her composure, but her voice trembled.
"This... what is this... who are you... why do I feel—"
"I am someone," Li Yuan said in a voice that sounded like it came from an infinite distance, "who has lived long enough to understand that some things are more important than profit. That human dignity is not something that can be bought or sold."
The effect of the Sky Comprehension intensified. Tariq fell to his knees, not physically forced, but because the feeling of immense vastness made his legs unable to support him. He looked upward, as if seeing something invisible to the eye—the boundless sky, the countless stars, a cosmic immensity that made all earthly concerns feel meaningless.
"This is what I offer you," Li Yuan continued, his voice remaining calm but carrying a weight that made every word feel like a universal truth. "Perspective. An understanding of how small your greed is, how insignificant your wealth is, how temporary your power is when viewed from an infinite expanse."
Raheem tried to speak, but his words came out as a choked whisper.
"Stop... stop this..."
"Why?" Li Yuan asked with brutal simplicity. "Is this uncomfortable? Does this feeling of insignificance bother you? Imagine what it's like to live with this feeling every day—the feeling that your existence means nothing, that you are just property to be discarded at any time."
"That is what you do to thousands of human beings. Every day. Every year. For generations."
Salma—who proved to have greater spiritual strength than the others—struggled to remain standing. Her voice, though weak, still carried a note of defiance.
"Even if... even if you make us feel this... it won't change the system. Too many are involved. Too many profit."
"You are right," Li Yuan admitted. "That is why I am not just here to talk to you."
He directed his attention outward—expanding the effect of his Sky Comprehension not just to this room, but to the entire building, then to the surrounding district, and then...
Throughout the city of Zhardar, people began to feel something strange.
Merchants who were calculating their profits suddenly felt that the numbers in their ledgers no longer seemed important. Guards on patrol felt that their duties—guarding slaves, preventing escapes—felt empty, meaningless in the grander scheme of things.
And most significantly: the slaves themselves—thousands of them caged, chained, and oppressed—began to feel something they hadn't felt in a very long time.
The weight on their shoulders felt lighter. Their chests felt more open. And for the first time in years—or in some cases, decades—they felt something akin to hope.
Not a naive hope or a passive hope. But a hope born from the realization that they didn't have to accept their fate as inevitable. That the sky above them—the infinite, free sky—was a reminder that freedom was the natural state, and slavery was an aberration.
In the warehouse where Amara and the other slaves were kept, the old woman felt the change with incredible clarity. She stood up—her frail, old body suddenly finding a strength that came not from muscle but from something deeper.
"This is it," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "The spark we were waiting for."
And she began to sing—the village song she had been singing for twenty years, but this time with new power, with new hope.
One by one, the other slaves joined in. Their voices—which had been silenced for so long—began to merge into a chorus that grew louder, more confident.
Back in the Merchant Council meeting room, Li Yuan withdrew the Sky Comprehension—not completely, but enough to allow the Council members to breathe, to think, to speak.
They were all kneeling or sitting, their faces slick with sweat, their eyes wide with something between terror and awe.
"That," Li Yuan said, his voice having returned to normal, "was a demonstration. To show you that I have the power to change this system if I choose to."
"But I do not wish to use that power unless necessary. I do not wish to create unnecessary chaos or destruction. I prefer a peaceful transformation."
He looked into the faces now filled with profound fear.
"So I ask you again: will you end the slave trade voluntarily? Will you free those you own? Will you use your wealth to build a more just economy?"
There was a long silence. Then Raheem—his voice cracking—spoke.
"We... we can't. Even if we wanted to... others wouldn't agree. Merchants from other cities, mine owners, plantation owners—they all depend on the supply of slaves. If we stop the trade, they will find other merchants, or they will take this city by force."
Li Yuan nodded with a sad understanding.
"Then you have made your choice. You prefer to maintain the system—even knowing the cruelty it inflicts—rather than risk doing the right thing."
He turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway.
"Know this: what happens next is not my responsibility. I gave you a chance for peaceful change. You refused it. Now, the people you have oppressed will choose their own fate."
"And I," he added with cold finality, "will not stand in their way."
With those final words, Li Yuan left the room, leaving the Merchant Council in a state of frightened disarray.
Outside, throughout Zhardar, something had fundamentally changed. The residual effects of the Sky Comprehension still resonated—not strong enough to force action, but strong enough to remind everyone that there was something greater than the system they had accepted as inevitable.
And in the warehouses, in the cages, in every place where slaves had been silenced for too long, Amara's song continued to spread.
A song about memory. About humanity. About a freedom that could not be completely destroyed.
The spark had been lit.
Now it was time to see if it would grow into a fire of liberation or die in the darkness.
Li Yuan knew the answer. But he would let the people prove it for themselves.