In the quiet hush of the Bai Mansion, morning light spilled across the polished wooden floors of the great hall. Alex sat in a high-backed chair, Lord Bai in every sense-ruler, protector, architect of a new order. Across from him, Zhuge Liang leaned forward, his schr''s robes draped neatly, eyes sharp with the weight of centuries of strategy.
"Lord Bai," Zhuge Liang said, "are you certain you want to hand out a single Wudang strengthening pill to every person who epts the band-aid Gaia? These pills are ruinously expensive. One dose could feed an entire family for a month."
Alex frowned, the lines deepening between his brows. "They''re my people. What''s wrong with giving my own the very best? Even a farmer feeds his pigs the finest grain if he wants them strong."
Zhuge Liang fell silent for a moment, studying him. “Then... are you nning to butcher themter?"
"Hell no,” Alex answered, a lowugh escaping despite the seriousness in his eyes. "But we need their strength. We''re going to ask them to push harder than they ever have to stand up, to fight for something bigger than themselves. A healthy citizen makes a healthy city. That''s why I''m giving them the pills."
He didn''t mention the part he kept to himself: these strengthening pills for ordinary people were crafted from the scraps left over after the cultivators'' own doses. Even the leftovers worked miracles, flooding normal bodies with the raw power of adulthood in a single swallow.
Zhuge Liang nodded slowly, then pressed on. "Let''s say your campaign seeds. You dangle the carrot and the stick in perfect bnce—tenshes of bamboo stick for anyone who refuses the band-aid Gaia, and a strengthening pill for every soul who epts it. Fine. But what''s the endgame? How do you n to use this on every citizen in the realm? Will you rule them like a dictator?"
"Hell no,” Alex said, leaning back. "I''m not a dictator. And I''m sure as hell not some bleeding-heart liberal. I''m more like... amunist."
Zhuge Liang''s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Communist? I''m afraid I don''t understand."
Alex''s gaze softened. "I just want to know my people. I want to make sure no one goes hungry. I want every man, woman, and child fed properly, given real work, and the dignity of a job they can be proud of. That''s it. That''s the whole damn dream.”
Zhuge Liang''s expression shifted, a flicker of respect crossing his face. "That is wisdom, Lord Bai. Truly. But tell me this will you control every citizen the same way you control the magisters yesterday?"
"No," Alex replied, the word sharp and final. "The device that can truly control someone is far too expensive to waste on the masses. We keep it limited-reserved for our enemies only."
“What the citizens get is simpler. It tracks their location, nothing more. They can''t be spied on through it. They can''t be manipted or bent to our will. That level of control is a privilege for officers alone, and even then, it''s strictly limited."
Zhuge Liang leaned forward again, his sharp eyes narrowing with fresh understanding.
"Oh. So these are only the special band-aids."
Alex reached into his robe and produced a small wooden box, its surface carved with subtle runes. He set it on the low table between them with deliberate care.
"Yes, The ones inside this box are different. They''re the real deal the kind that can eptmands and monitor a citizen''s exact condition at all times. Guard them closely. Only hand them out to people you trust with your life. No one else."
Zhuge Liang studied the box for a long moment, then met Alex''s gaze. "So... you cannot control me with one of these?"
Alex held the strategist''s eyes without flinching. "I cannot," he lied, the words slipping out smooth as silk.
If he wanted to keep the truth from the entire cityter, he had to start with the people closest to him. No panic. No cracks in the foundation. Not yet.
A flicker of relief crossed Zhuge Liang''s face, subtle but unmistakable.
"City Lord Bai," the strategist continued, shifting the topic with practiced ease, "there
is something important I need to tell you. Since you''re already here—"
"What is it?" Alex asked.
Before Zhuge Liang could answer, a roar of voices crashed against the mansion walls-hundreds of men shouting Alex''s name in raw, angry unison. The sound rolled through the corridors like thunder. A servant burst into the hall, breathless, robes pping.
"Sire!” the man gasped, dropping into a deep bow. "There are about a hundred people protesting out front. They''re demanding to see you.”
Alex''s brow furrowed. "What the hell are they doing?"
The servant kept his head lowered. "They''re asking you to repay your debts, my lord."
"Me?" Alex''s voice cracked with genuine shock. “Debts?"
Zhuge Liang exhaled, a grim shadow falling over his features. “That''s the trouble, Lord Bai. And you have a great many of them."
Outside, the shouting grew louder, raw and insistent. Most of the voices belonged to hardened mercenaries-men who had once fought for coin and now wanted every copper returned with interest.
Alex rose. "Open the gates," he ordered the guards. "Let them in."
The heavy wooden doors groaned open. The crowd surged forward like a flood, boots hammering across the mansion''s wide courtyard until they filled the open field before the main hall. Alex stood at the center of it all.
One burly mercenary stepped forward first, face flushed with years of resentment. "City Lord Bai, you borrowed a thousand gold coins from me few years ago. You swore that once you became lord, you''d repay me double."
Another pushed through the press of bodies, voice cracking with fury. "And me! Fifteen hundred coins. You promised triple the moment you took the seat.”
More voices joined the chorus, each im sharper than thest-debts tallied in gold, promises made in the dark days before power had finallynded in Alex''s hands.
Alex''s mind reeled. Had the original Bai Xaichun really bled the city dry like this? Borrowed from mercenaries with those kinds of insane terms? He kept his face calm, but inside the questions burned.
"I don''t remember borrowing from any of you," Alex let the words hang, watching their faces, buying himself a heartbeat to think.
The crowd surged closer, faces twisted with raw fury. The first merchant-a thick- necked man with scarred knuckles-jabbed a finger at Alex like a de.
"You drank and whored at my entertainment house for three straight nights!” he bellowed. "A few years ago, you promised to pay everyst copper, signed the damn contract right there on the table. How the hell can you stand here and pretend you forgot?"
"Yeah!" another merchant shouted, voice cracking with rage. "You threw an open naked party in my restaurant-wine flowing like water, every high-roller in the city. You swore you''d pay me triple the moment you took the lord''s seat. We toasted to it!"
Alex''s stomach tightened. The original Bai Xaichun had clearly sold them empty dreams, handing out wild promises like cheap wine, never believing he would actually win the title. The debts were reckless, stupid, and now they were his to carry.
A woman pushed forward through the press of bodies, her once-bright robes faded and threadbare. "Bai
Xaichun, she spat, eyes burn
with humiliation, "a few months a Pago you slept with me for weeks you
told me you''d pay hawaited
once
you became City Lord waited. waited like a fool while you climbed the ranks. And now you stand there acting like it never happened?"
More women joined her, their voices rising in a bitter chorus-some young and sharp-tongued, others older, their faces lined with years and regret. A couple looked old enough to be Alex''s mother. The sight turned his stomach; he had to fight the urge to look away. How the hell had the original man found any desire in them? The thought made his skin crawl.
A fat merchant in silk robes elbowed his way to the front, sweat beading on his forehead. "We''re done talking," he growled. "If you don''t pay us right now, everyst one of us will tearthis mansion apart and take everything that belongs to the City Lordnd, treasures, the whole damn estate."
Alex''s blood ran cold. "You''d do that?" His voice stayed low, but steel edged every word. "Wouldn''t that make all of you rebels?"
The fat merchantughed, short and ugly. "Rebels? We have your signed contracts. The debts are long overdue. We already took ourints to Acting City Lord Zhuge, but he kept pushing us off. Said he needed you here in person to verify the
truth."
Alex shot a hard nce at Zhuge Liang. The strategist met his eyes and gave a single, solemn nod.
"I did everything I could to hold them back, my lord," Zhuge Liang said quietly. "But now you''re here and the whole city knows it. You need to face this."
Alex drew a slow breath, the weight of every stare pressing down on him. Then he rose to his full height, voice ringing clear across the courtyard.
"Fine," he said. "Servants-bring tworge tables out here right now. Set them up in the middle of the yard. I''m going to go through every single debt paper myself and see what''s real."
A ripple of dark satisfaction moved through the crowd. Merchants exchanged quick, greedy smiles. Some women lifted their chins, eyes glittering with vindication. They could already taste it: Bai Xaichun bankrupt, stripped of power, forced to surrender chunks of Qinshui City''snd to settle the scores.
The servants hurried to drag two heavy wooden tables into the center of the courtyard, their legs scraping across the stone. While they worked, Alex turned back to the restless crowd.
"While you''re all here," he said, "I''m offering every one of you a Wudang-created Gaia band-aid. Put it on the back of your neck. It will drive away sickness, wash away your bad luck, and keep you strong. You can even have a strengthening pill to go with it-free."
A big man near the front-broad-shouldered, scarred from a hundred street fights— raised a meaty hand. "And what if I don''t want the damn thing?"
Alex met his eyes without blinking. "ording to thew Zhuge Liang put in ce, refusal earns you ten strikes with the bamboo stick across your backside."
The big man threw back his head andughed, a deep, mocking sound that rolled over the crowd. "Fine by me. I''ll take the ten hits. Keep your band-aid."
A ripple of relief moved through the merchants and women. Smiles broke out. They had all heard the rumors: the band-aids could control a person, bend their will, spy on their every move. No one wanted that kind of leash. More voices rose at once.
"We don''t want it either!"
"Yeah, same here!"
"Good," Alex said quietly.
He stepped forward as a servant rushed up with the thin bamboo rod-the kind schoolteachers used onzy students. It looked almost delicate in the morning light. The crowd rxed further, some even chuckling.
A stick like that against an adult''s skin? It would snap before it left a mark.
Alex took the rod in his right hand. He looked straight at the big man. “You chose
this. Come here. Ten hits."
The man swaggered forward, still grinning. “Better pay me those five thousand coins you owe me after you''re done, City Lord. I''ll be counting every strike.” "Don''t worry," Alex replied, voice t.
He poured his inner force into the bamboo. The slender rod hardened in an instant, bing something far deadlier than wood-dense as iron, sharp as a de. No one in the crowd could see the change. No one had time to warn the big man.
Alex swung.
The motion was clean, almost casual. A single, whistling arc.
The bamboo sheared straight through the man''s body at the waist.
For one frozen heartbeat the courtyard stayed silent. The upper half of the mercenary toppled forward, eyes wide with shock, mouth still half-open in thatst
grin. The lower half stayed upright for another sickening second before it crumpled
to the stones in a spray of blood.
Two separate pieces. One man. Gone.
A woman screamed. The rest of the crowd recoiled, faces draining of color. Merchants who had been smirking seconds earlier now looked like they might vomit.
The air filled with the thick, metallic smell of blood.
"It was only one hit,” Alex sighed.
Another man backed away, hands raised. "That wasn''t ten strikes-that was a death
sentence!"
Panic rippled outward like a stone dropped in dark water. Every eye locked on Alex
and the bloody bamboo rod still resting lightly in his hand.
No one spoke. No one moved. The debt papers, the tables, the demands for gold-
all of it forgotten in the space of a single, impossible swing.