The wind in the Northern Wastes didn't just blow; it bit. It carried tiny shards of ice that found their way through the seams of the carriage, stinging the skin like needles.
Jiang Chen pulled his fur cloak tighter, though it offered little protection against the bone-deep chill. Opposite him sat Eunuch Wang, a man whose face was powdered white, creating a stark, ghostly contrast against the grey gloom of the tundra outside.
"We have arrived, Your Highness," Eunuch Wang said, his voice high and dripping with a mock politeness that was more insulting than a curse. "Beiluo City. Your new... domain."
Jiang Chen looked out the window.
"City" was a generous word. It was a ruin. The walls were made of rammed earth, crumbling and pockmarked from years of neglect. The houses were huddled together like frightened animals, thatched roofs sagging under the weight of the snow. There were no spirit formations glowing in the sky to keep the weather out, no flying swords zipping overhead. Just mud, grey snow, and the smell of burning dung.
"It is magnificent," Jiang Chen said dryly.
The carriage groaned to a halt before a dilapidated manor. It looked like a strong gust would knock it over.
Eunuch Wang opened the door, and the freezing air rushed in. "His Majesty, the Emperor, hopes you find peace here. He has also graciously granted you one hundred Low-Grade Spirit Stones and ten servants to help you settle in."
Jiang Chen stepped out. His boots sank into the slush. Ten servants waited for him—old men, crippled soldiers, and young maids who looked like they hadn't eaten in days. The "rejects" of the Imperial Palace, sent to die alongside the reject Prince.
"Peace," Jiang Chen repeated. "Yes. Tell my father I thank him for his generosity."
Eunuch Wang sneered, barely hiding it. He tossed a small leather pouch onto the mud at Jiang Chen's feet. The Spirit Stones.
"Don't die too quickly, Third Prince. It would be bad luck for the Empire."
With that, the Eunuch climbed back into the reinforced carriage. The driver cracked the whip, and the horses—fine beasts bred with spirit blood—thundered away, leaving Jiang Chen standing in the freezing mud of his new kingdom.
He didn't watch them leave. He bent down and picked up the pouch of stones.
"Your Highness," a trembling voice spoke. It was an old man with a missing arm, bowing low. "I am Old Wu. I... I was the caretaker of this manor. Please, come inside. It is not much, but there is a fire."
Jiang Chen nodded. "Lead the way."
Inside, the manor was drafty. The "fire" was a small pile of charcoal in a bronze brazier that barely warmed the room. Jiang Chen dismissed the servants, telling them to find quarters and rest.
He sat alone in the main hall. The silence was heavy.
In the eyes of the world, his life was over. He was eighteen years old. Without a Spirit Root, he could not gather Qi. In the Grand Xia Empire, a man who could not cultivate was no better than livestock. Even a farmer with a sliver of talent could live to be a hundred; Jiang Chen would be lucky to see forty in this harsh climate.
He reached into his robe and touched the spot on his chest where his heart beat.
'System,' he thought. 'Boot up.'
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind, devoid of any mystical resonance. Simultaneously, a translucent blue grid expanded over his vision, overlaying the rotting wood beams and the dying fire.
[G.E.F. Administrator Online.][Current Location: Beiluo City (Sector: Unknown)][Environmental Hazard: Extreme Cold. Hypothermia imminent in 3 hours.][local Energy Density: Low.]
Jiang Chen exhaled a cloud of white mist. He had transmigrated to this world three days ago, taking over the body of the despairing prince who had died of a fever on the road. The System had come with him.
"Status report," Jiang Chen whispered.
[USER STATUS]
Name: Jiang Chen
Role: Level 1 Administrator
Cultivation: None (Anomalous Physics Not Detected)
Physical Integrity: 62% (Malnourished, Cold Stress)
Energy Units (EU): 0 / 500
Matter Stockpile: 0 kg
[AVAILABLE BLUEPRINTS (TIER 0 - SURVIVAL)]
Nano-Scanner: (Cost: 0 EU)
Matter Deconstructor: (Cost: 5 EU)
Basic Fabricator: (Cost: 50 EU)
Jiang Chen looked at the leather pouch on the table. He opened it. Inside were a hundred glowing blue stones, the size of marbles. To a cultivator, these were precious aids for meditation. To Jiang Chen, they were batteries.
He picked one up.
"Scan," he ordered.
A thin beam of blue light shot from his pupil, sweeping over the stone.
[OBJECT IDENTIFIED: Crystalline Energy Storage Device (Local Term: Spirit Stone)][Composition: Silicon-based lattice trapping high-density unknown radiation.][Conversion Potential: 100 Energy Units (EU) per stone.]
Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed. 100 EU per stone. He had 100 stones. That was 10,000 EU.
"Absorb," he commanded.
The stone in his hand didn't shatter; it simply turned grey, then crumbled into fine dust, its light extinguished.
[+100 EU]
Warmth flooded Jiang Chen's body—not spiritual energy, but the feedback of the System charging.
"Unlock Blueprint: Personal Environmental Suit (Thermal Underlayer)," Jiang Chen commanded.
[Blueprint Unlocked. Cost: 50 EU. Material Cost: 0.5kg Organic Fiber.]
Jiang Chen looked at his heavy, expensive, but uselessly drafty fur cloak. "Deconstruct the cloak."
He placed his hand on the fur. A silver sheen—nanites—spread from his palm, consuming the heavy fabric. In seconds, the cloak vanished.
[Matter Stockpile: +2.3kg Organic Fiber.]
"Fabricate."
The silver sheen flared again, wrapping around his body. It wove tight, black synthetic fibers under his silk robes. Instantly, the biting cold vanished. The suit regulated his body temperature to a perfect 37 degrees Celsius.
Jiang Chen stood up. He was no longer shivering. He walked to the window and looked out at the crumbling ruins of Beiluo City.
The cultivators of this world could move mountains and fly on swords. But they ignored the laws of thermodynamics. They ignored efficiency.
"Old Wu," Jiang Chen called out.
The one-armed old man hurried in, shivering. "Yes, Your Highness? Why... where is your cloak?"
"I don't need it," Jiang Chen said, his voice steady and calm. "Gather the servants. And bring me every scrap of metal you can find in this house. Rusted swords, broken pots, nails. Everything."
"Your Highness? What for?"
Jiang Chen smiled, a cold, industrial smile.
"We are going to do some renovations."