Two days after Liu Zheng, the newly appointed head of the Liu clan, arrived in Green Bamboo City, a summons was issued for all clan members to gather at the family palace's grand hall at noon sharp on the final day of the week. By then, rumors had already spread through the city like wildfire, fueled by idle gossip and whispered conversations. While it wasn't surprising that Liu Zheng, the son of the former head, had inherited the title, the real question was his capability. Anyone with even a hint of political awareness knew that Liu Zheng had long been seen as inept, and most assumed his uncle, Liu Zhisheng, would ultimately take control.
The fact that the family's former disgrace had somehow reached the Golden Core realm was astonishing enough. Some even claimed he had forced his esteemed uncle to kneel in the middle of the street, witnessed by the entire city. Another rumor suggested Liu Zheng was gathering the clan members to identify those who might oppose him, planning to eliminate them. Yet another, more fantastical tale claimed that Liu Zheng was favored by the heavens and was the youngest ever to reach the Golden Core realm, rallying support to overthrow the emperor.
Liu Nan, seated in a moderately upscale pub, stopped paying attention at that point. He had hoped to overhear real news, not such ridiculous stories. He couldn't entirely blame the people for gossiping—after all, as a member of the Liu clan, he too was eavesdropping, though out of ignorance rather than malice. He was so far down the family hierarchy that he was hardly noticed. Born with little talent and even less wealth, he spent his days running errands for those more important than him. It had been his good fortune that his distant aunt, Liu Zifan, had arranged for him to work under her. Even so, in his nineteen years, he had only seen Liu Zhisheng, the interim family head, once, and had nearly sweated through his clothes under his gaze. The idea that someone—particularly the young master, often mocked within the family—had forced Liu Zhisheng to kneel seemed absurd. And now, the emperor was being dragged into the gossip as well.
Nan took a sip of his tea, savoring its slight bitterness before setting the cup aside. Regardless of the rumors, the family meeting would begin in half an hour, and he, like everyone else, would soon learn his fate. Nan liked to think of himself as intelligent. He may not be a gifted cultivator, but he wasn't foolish like some of his cousins. He was rightfully concerned about his future. A new lord meant new laws, and depending on how Liu Zheng chose to rule, life in the city could become much more difficult.
The previous lord, Liu Zhou, had been benevolent—his reign marked by compassion and a clear understanding of his people's needs. Under his leadership, the city had flourished. When Liu Zhisheng assumed control as the interim head, he imposed troubling changes. He increased taxes in the mines and formalized sparring between cultivators of different levels. Nan had many complaints about these changes, but he was not foolish enough to voice them aloud. Not that he needed to. It was clear to anyone that the people still spoke fondly of Lord Zhou, even as paid criers and singers lauded Zhisheng's strength and pragmatism at every parade.
Now, with the lordship passing from Liu Zhisheng to Liu Zheng, more changes were inevitable. Nan only hoped they would be mild. Though Green Bamboo City appeared to be thriving on the surface, he knew that beneath it all, the city was struggling under the weight of its taxes. The markets, once bustling with genuine trade, had become little more than showpieces—colorful and loud, but hollow. Nan had seen families on the outskirts of the city struggling to keep up with rising taxes. The caravans still came, but now they catered to the rich, flaunting wealth rather than meeting real needs. The city's wealth was funneled into the palace, a glittering monument of ostentation.
Nan shook his head, pushing aside his frustration. It was beyond his control, but the bitterness remained. He'd watched his city wither, year by subtle year. Sighing, he tossed a few coins onto the table and stepped into the street. Fifteen minutes to the palace, five to navigate the hall. Best to be early.
As he walked, Nan took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the fresh air of the city. Born and raised here, the sights and sounds had always been familiar, always full of life. The streets were still crowded, with stalls offering exotic spices, fine silks, and rare herbs, but now the colors seemed faded. Even the merchants haggled with less enthusiasm, their voices tinged with weariness as each year brought fewer and fewer coins for the same products. What had once been a lively marketplace now felt more like a battleground, where customers and sellers alike fought for what little remained.
The air still carried the sweet scent of fresh fruit and sizzling meats, but it was undercut by the sharper tang of desperation. The clanging of blacksmiths and the chatter of people moving through the city's labyrinthine alleys were still there, but it felt hollow—echoes of a prosperity that was slipping away.
However, as Nan entered the noble quarters, the old grandeur of the city revealed itself. Towering pavilions stood beside elegant tea houses, their roofs tiled with dark, gleaming ceramic. The scent of exotic perfumes and sweet pastries mingled with that of nearby herb gardens. In the distance, the formidable walls of the Liu family palace loomed, a dark stone monolith crowned with golden eaves that gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Green Bamboo City had always been a maze of alleys and courtyards, each corner hiding something new—a hidden stone fountain, a secretive tea house veiled by vines. But now, it was only in the mansions and palaces of nobility that wealth and joy still flourished. As Nan made his way through the streets, the towering spires of the Liu family palace loomed ever closer, casting his path in shadow. It seemed an apt metaphor for the city: under the shadow of the Liu family.
The noise of the city gradually faded as Nan approached the palace. The distance between the mansions grew wider until he stood before the palace's imposing outer walls. The massive gates were studded with brass, their intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes winding across the entrance. Flanking the gates stood stone lions, their eyes fierce and unyielding. Passing beneath them, Nan caught sight of the smooth, jade-colored stone of the outer walls, which shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The rooflines arched like the wings of a mythical bird, golden eaves catching the light.
But it wasn't the palace's gaudiness that caught his attention—it was the people. Normally, those bearing the Liu family name walked with pride, heads held high. Nan often thought it rich that they felt pride while the common folk below them struggled, but today, many avoided eye contact. Their faces were tense, betraying a mix of worry and anticipation. His cousins moved about hurriedly, heads bowed, as if afraid to attract too much attention. A heavy, almost palpable tension hung in the air, as though the entire family knew something momentous was about to unfold.
Nan joined the stream of people heading toward the grand hall, the soft click of his shoes against the marble path lost in the growing sea of footsteps. As they neared the hall, the atmosphere thickened with quiet anxiety. Familiar faces passed by—uncles, distant cousins, and even long-time servants—none offering reassurance. There were no smiles, no friendly gestures, only the soft shuffle of feet as they moved silently forward.
The grand hall loomed ahead, its towering doors of polished oak standing like an unyielding barrier. Nan briefly noticed that the guards, who would normally stand at attention, were absent. It was strange—he had never thought he'd miss those grim sentinels, but today, their absence stood out painfully. Even their silent presence and unreadable expressions had once offered a sense of security. Now, there was only unsettling silence.
When Nan reached the threshold, the heavy wooden doors creaked open before the wave of people. Inside, the air was cooler, thick with the scent of incense, and the soft murmur of whispered conversations filled the space. The hall was vast, its soaring ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of legendary cultivators and Taoist symbols, bathed in golden light streaming through the grand windows.
The hall was packed—though space remained near the raised dais at the far end. The majority of the room was filled with Liu family members, their faces tense, murmurs rippling through the air like a restless tide. A few of the more accomplished cultivators floated through the air on their magical tools. Nan spotted Liu Feng riding his giant floating gourd, and Liu Bai gliding gracefully on her flying sword. But the most immediately recognizable figure, of course, was the worried-looking Liu Zhisheng, floating on his magical boat, his wife and sons arrayed around him.
Nan slipped toward the edges of the hall, moving between the anxious family members, intent on avoiding any conversation. The moment was near—noon was fast approaching, and he wanted to stay on the periphery, observing without being caught in the center of the impending commotion. Just as he thought this, the loud, resonant clang of a gong reverberated through the hall. It struck again, and the sound was so overwhelming that it silenced every voice, plunging the room into profound quiet.
The heavy gates groaned shut with a finality that echoed throughout the hall.
And then, Nan saw it—suddenly, the raised dais at the far end of the hall was no longer empty. A young man stood there, his presence sweeping over the room like an inevitable tide. One by one, all eyes turned to him, as the aura of a Golden Core cultivator pressed down on everyone in the hall. Nan could feel it, like an immense ocean of qi bearing down on him, and he knew that only the attention from Lord Zheng was keeping it from crushing him—and everyone else—under its weight.
Nan breathed shallowly, trying to push the surge of fear from his mind. Instead, he focused on studying Lord Liu Zheng. This was the first time he had seen him so clearly. Nan had only ventured into the palace's inner courts on rare occasions, glimpsing the young lord from afar. But the man standing before him now was far removed from those fleeting glimpses.
Liu Zheng was tall, fair, with deep black hair. His face and physique were those of a high-level cultivator, superior to anyone below his level. He carried himself with quiet dignity, wearing ceremonial robes of deep blue and silver. A dragon, wrought from hundreds of sapphires, adorned the silver sash of his robes. But what truly caught Nan's attention were his eyes—striking, intense grey eyes that seemed to see right through him. For a moment, Nan felt lightheaded, overwhelmed by the weight of those eyes.
This, he realized, was what it felt like to stand in the presence of someone so far beyond him. At the fifth level of Qi Condensation, Nan had never fooled himself into thinking he was special. Yet here, in the presence of such overwhelming power, he felt small, insignificant.
He wasn't alone in his discomfort. Many in the crowd appeared shaken, visibly affected by the weight of the aura pressing down on them. Even those who flew above had dipped briefly, as if the mere attention of a Golden Core cultivator could pull them from the air, before they managed to stabilize as his focus moved on. The entire hall had fallen still, the only sound the faint rustling of robes. All attention was on their new lord, who stood at ease, radiating power and authority.
Then, Liu Zheng spoke.
____________
Zheng couldn't recall a time when he had felt more nervous. Public speaking had never been his strong suit, and the weight of this moment, compounded by his aversion to the spotlight, made his palms sweat with anticipation. When he had asked Zifan to arrange this family gathering, he hadn't anticipated it would unfold like this. Now, standing before the entire clan, he struggled to maintain composure.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and surveyed the room. The air was thick with tension, the faint scent of incense hanging in the stillness, making the silence feel even more oppressive. Zheng's heart pounded, but he forced himself to speak clearly, his voice slicing through the heavy quiet. "Greetings to the Liu clan from the patriarch. It warms my heart to see the entire family gathered before me. For those of you still unaware, allow me to introduce myself properly— I am Liu Zheng, son of Liu Zhou, and now the patriarch and leader of the Liu family. I have inherited and mastered the power of our esteemed ancestor, stepping into the Golden Core realm. From this day forward, I officially take on the responsibilities of the family head and will serve as a viscount of the Celestial Phoenix Empire."
He paused, scanning the faces before him. No one spoke. His words were no surprise—this was a mere formality, a prelude to more pressing matters.
"As my first decree," Zheng continued, his voice gaining confidence, "I am promoting my aunt, Lady Liu Zifan, to the role of governor of Green Bamboo City. She has served our family with unwavering loyalty and competence for many years, and this position is well-deserved. Speak now if you have any objections."
The position of city governor was second only to that of the city lord, making Zifan Zheng's new second-in-command. As one of the two Foundational Establishment cultivators in the Liu family, she was more than qualified. More importantly, this move displaced Liu Zhisheng, the acting city lord, reducing him to a lower rank than both Zheng and Zifan. Zheng met his uncle's gaze, silently awaiting a response, but Zhisheng remained still, understanding the precariousness of his position.
The room hummed with whispers. Eyes darted between Zifan and Zhisheng. Though their faces remained stoic, Zhisheng's immediate family couldn't hide their unease. Zhang, his eldest son, stood frozen, his expression a mixture of shock and dread. He had likely spent the past moments convincing himself that Zheng could not possibly be the new patriarch. Now, his cousin—whom he had once tormented—was in charge. Worse still, Zhang could no longer rely on his father, Zhisheng, to shield him.
Zheng cleared his throat, silencing the murmurs. "Second," he said, his tone unwavering, "I've received reports of bandits operating along the western shores of the river. These bandits have been raiding our convoys for some time, emboldened by their success. Most troubling of all, their most recent theft involved a piece of tribute intended for the imperial family. This cannot stand. I intend to have them captured and punished for their insolence."
A beat of silence followed, accompanied by confused glances. This was hardly a matter important enough to warrant mention in such a formal gathering. Besides, bandits in a region so tightly controlled by the Liu family seemed absurd. The western banks of the Flowing Jade River, in particular, were sealed off by imperial decree, making it nearly impossible for anyone to approach. And for good reason—the land was a slaughterhouse.
Only Liu Zhisheng, his face paling, seemed to understand what was coming.
"I will entrust my uncle, Liu Zhisheng, a renowned warrior of the family, with leading a group to root out these bandits," Zheng declared. "Uncle, I charge you with taking a party to the western banks of the Flowing Jade River and bringing these criminals to justice. Since my cousins can no longer instruct me in sword training, I trust they will enjoy accompanying you on this mission. It will be a fitting opportunity for them to indulge their passion for combat."
A sharp intake of breath rippled through the hall as realization dawned. This wasn't about bandits at all. It was a trap. Zheng was sending Zhisheng to the western banks, a region infamous for its Jiangshi—reanimated corpses that attacked anyone who ventured too close. While individual Jiangshi weren't particularly powerful, the sheer number of them in that region would overwhelm even a warrior of Zhisheng's caliber. And bringing his sons along ensured their deaths as well.
Zhisheng's situation was clear: refuse the mission, and he would face the wrath of the patriarch. Accept it, and he would be walking into a near-certain death. Zheng was stripping away any pretense of subtlety. He had placed his uncle in an impossible position: forced to either undertake a suicide mission or defy him outright, which would carry its own consequences.
Zheng watched his uncle closely, seeing the mix of anger and fear on his face. For a moment, he thought about how, as a child, the original Liu Zheng had feared this man. Now, standing in front of him, Zhisheng seemed small—nothing more than a bully who had taken advantage of the weak and bowed to the strong. Zheng found no trace of fear anymore.
"Well, Uncle?" Zheng's voice cut through the tense silence. Memories from the original Liu Zheng resurfaced—years of suffering, of beatings, cruel words, and scorn. Forcing Zhisheng to bow felt strangely satisfying.
Liu Zisheng swallowed hard, his eyes darting from one face to another, but not one person dared meet his gaze. Just a days ago, he had ruled this hall, but now, in the face of his nephew's newfound strength, not a soul would stand with him. He was being asked to walk to his death—and take his sons with him. A bitter wave of resentment rose in his throat, but he pushed it down. There was no point in speaking now. He had walked this path too far for any hope of redemption.
"I'll do as you say, nephew," Zisheng croaked, his voice defeated. He clenched his fists, then added, "It will be an honor to serve the family. But... should not my sons—your cousins—stay here to atone for their actions against you? If you allow it, I will lock them in the discipline hall myself. They will emerge meek as lambs."
Zheng's gaze hardened. "Atonement? No, you mistake me uncle. This is not a punishment. I am simply giving my beloved cousins the same opportunity they once afforded me in the past. A chance to serve their family." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Surely, you would not deny them that?"
Another silence followed, thick and suffocating. Liu Zisheng's face tightened in helpless anger, but he didn't argue. What could he say? He had no power left to challenge Zheng, no allies to call upon. He had no choice but to comply.
Slowly, his flying boat descended, and he turned to leave, shoulders heavy with the weight of his failure. Behind him, his sons followed silently, broken by the crushing knowledge of their family's ruin.
The doors slammed shut behind them, sealing their fate. No one spoke. No one needed to.
The meeting dragged on for a while longer, but from that point forward, it was little more than formality. Liu Zheng had firmly established his authority, making it clear to everyone that he was now the undisputed leader. Liu Zhisheng had been punished and cast aside. From now on, the Liu family would bend to Zheng's will.
Once the meeting officially concluded, Nan lingered only as long as necessary before hastily departing. As he left, a voice transmission from Lady Zifan reached him, asking him to report to her the next morning. Another task, he assumed. With her promotion to city governor, her responsibilities would surely increase—and if he played his cards right, he might stand to gain from it.
A sense of temptation stirred within him. Lord Zheng had been a force of nature, and while witnessing what was effectively an execution in the hall was distasteful, Nan felt no particular sorrow over the old lord's fall. With Lady Zifan now in close favor with Lord Zheng, she would likely be able to convince him that ruling a prosperous city was far more profitable than presiding over a ruin. He couldn't help but feel cautiously optimistic about what the future held.
With one last glance at the towering gates that had sealed Zhisheng's fate, Nan stepped into the night, the weight of the evening settling in. Whatever came next, the Liu family was clearly heading for change, and he hoped it was for the better.
____________
The Azure Moon Mirror hovered in the center of the room, its surface showing the scene of his uncle's departure. Zhisheng had sought him out after the family meeting, hoping to earn mercy with an apology, and at least spare his sons from death. Zheng had felt guilty at first, before a deluge of memories from the original Liu Zheng's childhood had inundated his mind and shown him the actions of his new cousins. Even then, he would have likely allowed Zhang and Zhou – the latter named after his own father – to escape from the punishment, had not his uncle mentioned Zhang's betrothal to the daughter of Misty Sky City's lord. He had likely meant it as an argument for letting Zhang live, about how such an arrangement would increase the power and prestige of the Liu family, but it had reminded Zheng of the plot of the book he was now in – Zhang, as the son of the city lord had been engaged to Mei Yue, the daughter of the lord of Misty Sky City. In the novel, she had been a tragic figure, being forced against her wishes to marry a tyrannical figure. She had run into the protagonist, Ye Chen, and as usual in cultivation novels, fallen in love with him when he had challenged Zhang for her sake. Later on, she had ended up becoming harem member one, out of the five or six wives Ye Chen had in his harem at the end of the book.
The reminder of that future had been enough to eliminate any thoughts of compassion for Zhang. The connection to Mei Yue, who would eventually become part of Ye Chen's circle, made it impossible for Zheng to overlook the potential danger Zhang could bring to the Liu family. The last thing he wanted was to give the protagonist any excuse to see the Liu family —and by extension, him—as an enemy. Knowing Ye Chen, if the Liu family offended him in any way, he would not rest till they were wiped out in totality, down to the last pet if needed. That was, after all, the sort of person he had been. The only exception he had made was for Zhou; he did not recall him from the novel at all, and so was willing to give him a chance.
If Ye Chen ever grew powerful enough, even Golden Core cultivators would be nothing more than dust in his wake.
Zheng shuddered at the thought. In just two weeks, he had come to understand the terrifying power of a Golden Core cultivator. He knew all too well how easily they could flatten entire cities. The idea of someone even more powerful than that, combined with Ye Chen's ruthless personality, was a chilling thought.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Zheng turned his focus back to the scene unfolding in the Mirror. Zhisheng and his son looked broken—defeated in every way. They moved sluggishly, as though the weight of their failure had drained them of all vitality. After trying and failing to rally any support from his closest allies, they had given up and set off for the western banks of the Flowing Jade River. The servants who had come to see them off were few, and none met their eyes. It was clear that no one wanted to be associated with their disgrace.
Zheng wasn't concerned about them fleeing. He had made it abundantly clear to his uncle that any attempt to defy his fate would be dealt with swiftly. If Zhisheng was to die at the hands of the Jiangshi, at least he would die with some semblance of honor, rather than as a traitor.
As the Mirror's image faded, Zheng turned away. He was alone in his uncle's former office—the official office of the Liu family head. He was waiting for his aunt, Zifan, the new second in command of the family. She had been an invaluable asset over the past week, helping him manage the complex affairs of the family. Even with her handling much of the burden, Zheng still felt overwhelmed by the weight of his new responsibilities. But he was adapting. Soon, he would have the confidence to delegate more, once he solidified his approach to ruling.
A knock at the door broke his thoughts, and Zheng sensed his aunt on the other side. He put away the Mirror, letting it return to his dantian, before admitting her in. Liu Zifan entered, looking more like a harried librarian than the city's governor. Though impeccably dressed, she was weighed down by a stack of parchments and scrolls—most of which were too important to leave in the hands of a servant before being sealed.
Zheng's eyes immediately landed on a red scroll, edged with gold, resting at the top of the pile. Zifan noticed his gaze, plucking it from the stack and handing it to him while placing the rest on the table.
"Any trouble?" Zheng asked, unfurling the scroll as he scanned its contents. He was already familiar with what it held, but he always preferred to double-check—especially when the matter was so significant. The scroll contained the Liu family's formal oath to the emperor, confirming Zheng's ascension as the new family head and pledging fealty to the empire. According to ancient law, such a document had to be submitted, or the family head must present themselves in person within a month of assuming leadership. With nearly two weeks passed since his ascension, Zheng was eager to finalize the matter. The empire rarely interfered, as long as tribute and taxes were paid, but Zheng didn't want to give them a reason to look too closely at his actions.
"None, nephew," Zifan replied, though her tone was far from pleased. Zheng didn't look up from the scroll; he knew the source of her displeasure.
"I had Bai placed in the punishment hall as per your command," she continued. "The Liu family has issued a formal apology and restitution of two hundred low-grade spirit stones to the shopkeeper. I believe this public reckoning will send a clear message. I doubt anyone will dare defy your orders again."
She was referring to Liu Bai, a spoiled family member who had stolen a jade medallion from a market stall earlier that day. When the shopkeeper had protested, Bai had slapped him and flown off, showing complete disregard for the new laws. Zheng had acted swiftly: the shopkeeper was compensated tenfold, Bai was publicly forced to apologize, and she was confined to the punishment hall for two days. While it wasn't a severe punishment for a cultivator, it was meant to set an example. Zheng wouldn't tolerate insubordination, even from his own family.
Now, the city buzzed with rumors about how the new lord had forced a member of his own family to bow before a mere mortal. By the world's twisted sense of honor, Zheng had lost "face" over the matter. But to him, "face" meant nothing. He would rather do what was right and lose face than indulge in the foolishness of maintaining a reputation. Let them call him whatever they wanted.
So, he ignored his aunt's unhappiness, and pushed the scroll over to her. "This looks good to me. Have it transmitted to the court using our fastest jade slips. I don't want to drag this out any longer. As for Liu Bai's matter, it's settled. Let's move on."
With his uncle and cousins leaving the city today, Zheng's thoughts turned to the city guards. "I need someone to take charge of the guards. Zhang clearly wasn't diligent in his duties, but it's still a shift. I was thinking of promoting from within, but do you have anyone in mind for the position?"
Zifan hesitated, visibly wrestling with saying something over the matter he had just declared settled. In the end, she said nothing. Zheng wasn't surprised. This was the same woman who had stood by while Liu Zhisheng did whatever he pleased. She could protest her dislike of his actions as much as she wanted, but the truth remained: Zifan was a follower, lacking the spine to stand up for her beliefs. Zheng had no qualms about taking advantage of her compliant nature.
That didn't mean she wouldn't push back in her own subtle ways. Which was why he had asked her about the city guards. It was a concession. He suspected she would name someone from her circle to fill the position, and he was fishing for just that. Nepotism was the norm in this world, and he was prepared to accept it. The city guards had grown too corrupt under Zhang's leadership, and someone from Zifan's circle, someone capable, would be a better choice—even if it meant giving her more power within the family. Zheng had already made his peace with that. After all, he had named her second in command. There was no point in denying reality now.
Zifan hesitated for a moment longer, then capitulated, as expected.
"As it happens," Zifan began, "I know of a diligent young man who could fill the position admirably. He sought to join the guards before, but Zhang dismissed him due to his lack of strength, even though he's in the fifth stage of Qi Condensation. You likely don't know him, but he's still a cousin to you: Liu Nan."
Zheng furrowed his brow. He had no idea who Liu Nan was. The Liu family was vast, and it was impossible for him to keep track of everyone, especially those not directly involved in the family's power structure. Still, he needed a competent leader for the city guards, and if Liu Nan had potential, he was willing to consider him.
"Liu Nan, you say?" Zheng murmured, more to himself than to Zifan. "Very well, arrange for him to meet with me. I'll judge him personally."
Zifan nodded, clearly pleased with his response. She waved a hand over the remaining documents, and with a subtle use of her qi, they arranged themselves into a neat pile. She tucked the red scroll under her arm, preparing to leave. As she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on Zheng, who was already pulling the nearest scroll toward himself.
"Nephew," she said softly, her tone both respectful and cautious, "I know you don't care much for the family's honor, but remember that our lives are now in your hands. I hope you lead with wisdom."
Zheng didn't immediately respond. What his aunt considered wise and what he considered wise were two very different things. Still, the reminder was necessary. He was no longer afraid of being exposed as an impostor or suppressed, but he couldn't afford to trample over everything in this world either. If certain customs offended him, he should move to change them, but being a tyrant would only breed conflict. Even his aunt, whom he had dismissed as compliant just mere moments ago, was warning him, in the most delicate way she could.
Zheng nodded once, a simple gesture that seemed to satisfy her. She stepped out, leaving him alone in the vast office. As the door clicked shut, he walked to the window and gazed out at the sprawling city below. The world was full of threats, hidden dangers, and power struggles—yet it was also full of opportunities. He was no longer the uncertain, disoriented man who had first arrived. He had learned quickly, adapted, and found his resolve. Now, as the head of the Liu family, it was time to carve his own path.