Chapter 152 Seeds of Civilization

Chapter 152 Seeds of Civilization

“So, what are we waiting for?” I asked, half-expecting someone to snap and tell me to shut up. “Do we just stand here on the sand like decorative idiots or…?”

Nongmin didn’t even blink. “They will send someone to greet us. I’ve already informed our hosts.”

Of course he had. Everything he did was three steps ahead and filed in triplicate. For someone who ruled an empire, the man had the patience of a monk playing chess against time itself.

Zai Ai sighed beside him, a sound that somehow conveyed both spiritual exhaustion and maternal disappointment. “You should be disciplined.”

That again.

“For the ninth time, your method of speaking is disgraceful. Crude. It will offend someone important one day. And that day might as well have been today.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, smirking. “Besides, shouldn’t you be out there, I don’t know, searching for your disciple or whatever? Why’re you here wasting time picking fights with me?”

Her eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “If you weren’t the Emperor’s grandson, I’d teach you some manners.”

“Oh, would you?” I said, stepping forward with my hands out, egging her on. “Go on, hit me. Right here. I won’t even dodge.”

Zai Ai raised her hand, but only to fix a loose strand of hair that hadn’t even moved.

Nongmin stood to the side like a stone statue watching children squabble. “Little Wei,” he said, yes, he’d started calling me that recently, the bastard… “can handle himself. He speaks as he pleases because he lives as he pleases.”

I threw a smug look Zai Ai’s way. “See? Grandpa says I’m special.”

She scoffed. “Special like a cursed cauldron.”

We didn’t have time for a comeback, because that’s when they arrived.

A group of cultivators in blue and black robes approached, each embroidered with a bold silver character on the chest that read

武

(Martial), the Martial Alliance’s symbol. The group was led by a man with a golden sash wrapped around his waist, denoting status without ostentation. His qi presence rippled gently in the air like wind through water. His qi was firm, but not aggressive. He wasn’t some bottom-rung escort. His cultivation was solidly Fourth Realm. Honestly, closer to Fifth.

Yup. That tracked. I had a feeling that by the end of this summit, if you weren’t Fourth Realm or above, you might as well be in charge of catering.

The golden-sash man stepped forward, offering a martial artist’s bow, fist against palm, low and respectful.

“Honored Emperor,” he said with clarity and force. “I am Ma Lin of the Martial Alliance, honored to serve as one of the welcoming delegates for this summit.”

Nongmin returned the gesture with grace that felt more imperial than any golden dragon robe ever could. “I am pleased to be received, Ma Lin. My people and I are grateful for your hospitality.”

Ma Lin turned and gestured to the palanquin behind him. It was elegantly built, with curved handles of lacquered spiritwood and engraved runes glowing faintly in the morning sun. Carried by six cultivators in perfect synchronicity, it seemed to float rather than be lifted.

Nongmin stepped forward and ascended the palanquin in one fluid motion. No rustling of fabric, no awkward shuffle… just a man used to the fact that every floor beneath him should rise on command.

I gave a low whistle as I watched him settle in. “Nice. He’s doing the whole ‘untouchable emperor’ bit today.”

“Better than your ‘idiot vagrant’ impression,” Zai Ai muttered beside me. “Now, behave…”

“Hey, I work hard on acting like this.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly confused.

Ma Lin offered, “We can take your ship to the staging grounds. The Martial Alliance has cleared space for such artifacts.”

Nongmin shook his head politely. “No need. I’ll store it myself.”

Store it… himself?

I blinked. That was the first time I’d heard of pocket dimensions actually being casually used like that. I mean, sure, people always mentioned storing rings and bags, but this was on a different level. The Megatron was the size of a damn manor and a flying artifact on top of that, and Nongmin just said he’d put it away like it was a coat.

I frowned to myself. So that’s why most of the Storage Rings I snatched back then felt nearly empty. No weird scrolls, no powerful talismans, just weird pastries or flower manuals. They were using something else for the real loot. Great. More reading to do.

It seemed I still underestimated high level cultivators. I wondered at what Realm would they start possessing pocket dimensions? Ugh… It was tough my reading time being interrupted again and again, but hopefully, I’d be able to continue polishing my knowledge of this world… I should have a lot of free time in between days of the summit.

With a casual wave of his hand, Nongmin activated a formation with precise, practiced movements. Runes flared beneath the ship’s hull. The Megatron shivered, then began to shrink, collapsing in on itself into a shimmering string of light. That ribbon of brilliance curled through the air before landing softly in Nongmin’s palm. He closed his fingers around it, storing it with a flicker of spatial turbulence.

“Let’s proceed,” he said.

The rest of us followed behind the palanquin: Zai Ai, ever-judgmental and sharp-eyed; Tao Long and Liang Na flanking me like glorified babysitters. I didn’t mind Liang Na, she was fun to mess with and less prone to lecturing. Tao Long just kept his arms folded and said nothing, but I caught him side-eyeing me from time to time like I was a wild animal pretending to wear a human face.

Ma Lin kept pace with us, polite but observant. His eyes flicked toward me now and then, probably trying to figure out what rank I held or whether I had any value beyond being dead weight… or sometime soon, a very annoying brat.

I looked at the massive construction site ahead of us, where the fortress-to-be clung to both mountain and shore like some kind of hybrid beast. Workers flew from scaffold to scaffold, hurling spells and stones alike.

“How long do you think it’ll take before it’s done?” I asked Ma Lin, genuinely curious. “Looks like it’s gonna be massive.”

Liang Na nudged me with her elbow. “You should introduce yourself before asking questions like that. It's rude, even if you're trying to act charming.”

Then, in Qi Speech, she whispered in my ear: ‘Don’t use your real name. Not here. You’re Mei Wei for now.’

Ah. Right. Cover names. Political summit. Cultivation world etiquette.

I gave Ma Lin a crooked smile. “Name’s Mei Wei,” I said. “Sorry. I’m still new to all this.”

Liang Na added smoothly, “He’s His Majesty’s grandson. Please excuse his behavior… he’s been spoiled since birth.”

I resisted the urge to shoot her a look. Spoiled? Maybe. But that wasn’t the full story. Still, I let it go. I was undercover, technically.

Ma Lin repeated my fake name under his breath. “...Mei Wei?”

The name rolled oddly off his tongue. He tilted his head slightly. I could tell he was trying to recall if any royal branches used the surname Mei. There weren’t any, of course. That was the point.

He didn’t press. “To answer your question, young master Mei,” he said, his tone even, “the fortress should be completed within seven days. With the joint efforts of various sects and the Martial Alliance overseeing the central formations, it will be done in time for the opening rituals.”

“Opening rituals?” I asked.

Ma Lin inclined his head. “Of course. The World Summit cannot begin without the Blessing Rite and the Pact Assembly. Tradition, after all.”

“Sounds official.”

“It is,” Liang Na muttered under her breath, lips twitching. “So don’t say anything embarrassing.”

I rolled my eyes. Like I ever said anything that…

Okay. Maybe once. Or twice. A day.

But still. I could behave.

Sort of.

Still…

Seven days.

That was a long time, relatively speaking. Long enough for shit to quickly hit the fan.

Back during the Yellow Dragon Festival, I barely had two days to myself before everything snowballed. What started as a casual walk turned into scuffles, then into a conspiracies, then into a full-blown brawl with what amounted to a literal devil from hell. My first real fight. First serious battle in this world with its freaky energy system and nightmarish stakes.

And gods, I had been so clumsy.

I remembered fumbling, frustrated at how slow I moved. I'd been using ‘my skills’ like a player abusing cooldowns in a game, but movement techniques were still awkward. Too many limbs, too many physics rules I hadn’t adapted to. It didn’t help that my foe at that time could fly. I wasn’t born with an inner core or dragon blood or spirit wind under my feet. Just stats. Just a system. And despite that, somehow I delivered.

Now, standing on this path to the World Summit, I couldn’t help but think what another seven days might do to me.

“Seven days is a lot of time,” I muttered.

Ma Lin nodded. “The Summit will begin once all the great powers have arrived. If schedules hold, seven days seems likely.”

“And if they don’t hold?” I asked.

Ma Lin allowed himself a small smile. “Then we wait longer. Tradition says no opening ceremony without all parties present.”

Tao Long, arms folded and tone sharp as ever, interjected, “Aren’t you saying a little too much, daoist Ma? Bit bold, talking about who’s late and who’s not. Isn’t that revealing dirt under your own alliance’s fingernails?”

I could tell he wasn’t really scolding him. Just poking the bear. Cultivators did that a lot. Nobody said what they meant. It was all posture and layered intention. Still tripped me up.

Ma Lin shrugged, relaxed and unbothered. “It’s no secret. The Heavenly Temple arrived before us. There was some… contention. Tempers flared.”

“And?” I asked.

“And,” Ma Lin said, “after mediation, it was agreed the Temple was at fault.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is: technically you’re not throwing dirt on yourself, you’re chucking it at someone else and calling it a resolved misunderstanding.”

That earned a short laugh from him. “You are not wrong, young master Mei.”

“And the Union?” I asked.

“They’ll arrive late,” Ma Lin said. “But they will attend. They always do. For them, the Summit is less about diplomacy and more about recruitment.”

We arrived at a jade platform, polished smooth and glowing faintly with sigils along its surface. A wide disc just sitting there at the edge of a path like an ancient elevator in the xianxia kind of way.

I stepped onto it and casually swept my Divine Sense across its surface. The formation felt elegant, refined, and modular. Somehow, I understood this tech better than the Empire’s version, like someone had finally written the code in a language I could read. It wasn’t brute-forced, just… efficient. Beautiful.

With a low hum, the platform rose.

As we ascended, the full scale of the city came into view. Not fortress, but a city! I could see it now. The thick stone walls were only the skeleton. What sprawled beyond them was a living organism of tents, scaffolds, rooftops, and fires. Mortals and cultivators swarmed below like ants… constructing, repairing, arguing, and living.

There were banners and flags of different clans. Cooking stalls. Tents where people slept beside their wares. Children ran between carts. Not all of them wore robes or fancy insignias. Most of them didn’t. Most were ordinary. Human.

Ma Lin turned slightly, catching my expression.

“During World Summits,” he explained, “the four great powers agreed to bring in refugees from war-torn lands. Mortals seeking a better life, or adventurers hoping to settle in new territory. This place will become a city long before it becomes a battlefield.”

I didn’t say anything at first.

Instead, I just stood there.

“It looks nice.”

People lived here.

People worked. They fought, yes. But they also dreamed. They also built homes and stalls and lives. So much of what I’d seen in this world revolved around violence… cutthroat cultivation, assassinations, clan betrayals, and demonic invasions. I’d almost forgotten what it looked like when people just… lived.

I mean… The Imperial Capital had it too in spades, regarding their common citizenry, but this was different.

My throat tightened slightly.

I wasn’t from this world, but this? This part? This I understood.

“I like this,” I said, my voice quieter than I expected. “I really like this.”

We stopped in front of what could only be described as a high-end inn. No, pavilion would be the right word for it. Tall redwood columns framed the entrance, each one carved with cloud motifs and coated in spiritual lacquer that shimmered faintly under the setting sun. There were gold inlays along the windows and polished white stone underfoot that didn’t carry a single trace of dust.

It reeked of luxury and power.

Ma Lin stepped ahead of us and gestured toward the entrance like a respectful host. “This inn has been prepared in advance for esteemed guests. The staff have been informed of your identities and will accommodate any needs you may have. Please, there’s no need to hold back.”

“No need to hold back,” I repeated under my breath. “I’m sure that won’t go horribly wrong.”

Zai Ai ignored me, of course. She stepped forward, her robes barely rustling. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp. “I’m looking for my disciple,” she said. “His name is Mao Xian. Male. Androgynous features, Adventurer’s Guild master. He’s affiliated with the Martial Alliance.”

Ma Lin offered her a polite bow. “Yes, Grandmaster. Mao Xian is known to us. He arrived several days ago but has since departed.”

Zai Ai’s face didn’t change, but I noticed the air shift around her slightly. Just a bit of her Qi leaking.

Ma Lin was unfazed as he continued. “A few experts, including Mao Xian and the Grandmaster of the Martial Alliance chose to begin exploring the new realm while preparations for the Summit continue.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Exploring already? That’s allowed?”

“It’s an unspoken rule,” Ma Lin said. “Whoever hosts the Summit gains the rights to the first expedition. A tradition rooted in respect… and practicality. After all, when so many armies and sects gather, it’s only natural for some to go adventuring while the bureaucrats argue.”

Zai Ai gave a small nod and turned away, already heading toward her assigned room. She was probably going to cultivate until she got word of her disciple again.

Ma Lin gave one final bow and smiled at all of us. “If you need anything, send word. I will be nearby.”

With that, he left.

Nongmin wasted no time. He turned on his heel and walked toward his room, calling over his shoulder without even looking at me. “Little Wei. Come inside.”

I followed, shutting the door behind me. As I did, I caught a flicker of movement… It was Tao Long. My Divine Sense picked him up loitering just outside, casually walking past the room, too casual. He was either there to eavesdrop or guard the door. Probably both. That was part of his job now, wasn’t it?

Zai Ai had already retreated to her room, settling in for whatever long meditation or cultivation session she liked to drown herself in. As for Liang Na… Well, she wasn’t even in the inn anymore. My Divine Sense picked her up as a streak of motion flitting between rooftops, vanishing down a side street.

“Where’s Liang Na going?” I asked as I turned back to Nongmin. “I thought she’d stick around.”

Nongmin was already setting up some kind of array around the room. Lines of faint silver lit up around the walls and ceiling, sinking into the wood before vanishing entirely.

“Probably to make contact with our spies,” he said casually.

I blinked. “Aren’t you worried Tao Long might hear that? He’s right outside.”

Nongmin raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d start talking before the formations were in place? No one outside this room can hear a word.”

Fair enough.

I looked around. It was a nice room. Velvet cushions, tea already poured on the table, glowing lanterns casting soft shadows. Warm, comfortable. A false sense of security if I ever saw one.

“So,” I said, sitting down across from him, “what are we talking about? I don’t suppose you just want to play cards or chat about childhood traumas. Just so you know, I am scared of roaches, and also paper cuts… Definitely hate ‘em.”

Nongmin didn’t sit. He stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the street below.

“The strategy,” he said.

I tilted my head. “Strategy for what?”

He turned slightly, just enough for his profile to catch the light.

“To ensure your fateful encounter occurs.”

I frowned.

“…My what? Ah, okay. Walk me through it.”

But he didn’t answer right away. He just smiled slightly and looked back out the window.

I got a bad feeling about this.