With the village tyrant currently groaning in the infirmary (the local herbalist's shed), Lin Feng decided it was time to process the "spoils of war."
The System had provided a key—a heavy, iron thing that looked like it belonged to a dungeon cell. It fit perfectly into a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards of Headman Wang's house.
Lin Feng lifted the false floor.
Inside was a wooden chest. He popped the latch.
"Gold. Silver. Standard fiat currency," Lin Feng muttered, tossing the heavy coins into a pouch. "Useful for trade."
Then he saw the other items.
Sitting on a velvet cushion were three crystals. They were the size of hen's eggs, glowing with a soft, pulsing blue light. They hummed with a low frequency that made his teeth itch.
ITEM DETECTED: [LOW-GRADE SPIRIT STONES (3)]. ENERGY DENSITY: HIGH. STATUS: VOLATILE. USAGE: CURRENCY / CULTIVATION RESOURCE.
Lin Feng picked one up. It was warm.
"Piezoelectric crystals?" he mused, holding it up to the light. "Or maybe some kind of radioactive isotope? The half-life seems stable enough. It's giving off lumens and thermal energy."
He frowned. "Wang must have been trading in illicit minerals. No wonder he was so protective."
In the cultivation world, these stones were the foundation of all commerce and power. A single stone could buy a mortal village. Three could buy a minor noble title.
To Lin Feng, they were batteries.
"I can use this," he said.
He found an old glass jar used for pickling vegetables. He cleaned it out, placed the three stones inside, and sealed the lid. He then wrapped copper wire (scavenged from a broken pot handle) around the jar, creating a crude coil.
"If my theory on induction is correct," he muttered, "this should act as a radiant heater."
He placed the jar in the center of his hut.
The stones reacted to the copper coil—a basic conduction formation. The light intensified, flooding the dingy hut with a clean, azure glow. The temperature in the room rose by ten degrees instantly.
ACTION: SPATIAL FORMATION CREATED. TYPE: [GATHERING ARRAY (CRUDE)]. EFFECT: QI DENSITY +200% WITHIN 5 METERS. SIDE EFFECT: PASSIVE XP GAIN.
"Nightlight and space heater combined," Lin Feng nodded, satisfied with his engineering. "Patent pending."
He sat down on his mat, bathed in the high-density spiritual Qi that would kill a normal mortal but was merely "cozy" to his reinforced body.
He closed his eyes. The warmth was different tonight. It wasn't just physical. It was pulling him somewhere.
[The Dreamscape]
The transition wasn't like falling asleep. It was like sinking into deep water.
Lin Feng opened his eyes.
He was standing on a bridge made of white stone. Below, a river of mist flowed silently. Above, the sky was a blank, pearl-grey void. There was no sun, no moon, only a diffuse, gentle light.
"Lucid dreaming," Lin Feng noted. "Classic stress response. My subconscious is creating a 'safe space' to process the trauma of the last two days."
He looked down at his clothes. He wasn't wearing rags. He was wearing a grey suit—his old office attire. But it was clean, pressed, and comfortable.
He looked across the bridge.
Someone was standing there.
It was the woman. The silhouette from the snow.
She was clearer now. She wore robes of imperial purple silk, embroidered with golden phoenixes that seemed to move on the fabric. Her face was still obscured by a shimmering veil of mist, but he could see her eyes. They were dark, intelligent, and incredibly tired.
Su Qingyue stared back at him.
She saw a man in strange, tight-fitting grey clothes (the suit). His hair was short, unlike the long locks of the men in her empire. His face was blurred, but his posture was relaxed, unthreatening.
Is this a spirit? she wondered. Or a demon tempting me?
They walked toward each other, stopping at the center of the bridge. The silence was absolute, yet comfortable.
"You're real," Lin Feng said. It wasn't a question.
"You are the one in the snow," Su Qingyue replied. Her voice was like a bell ringing in a deep valley. "The one who fights."
"I try not to," Lin Feng said, leaning against the stone railing. "Fighting is inefficient. I prefer negotiation. Or leverage."
Su Qingyue tilted her head. "Leverage? Is that a weapon?"
"The best weapon," Lin Feng smiled. "Better than a sword. A sword can break. Leverage just bends the world until it fits you."
She studied him. He spoke strangely, using words she didn't fully grasp, yet the intent was clear. He was pragmatic.
"I tried to use leverage today," she admitted softly. It was strange, admitting weakness to a stranger in a dream. But he felt safe. Part of her. "I tried to crush a piece of gold. I scared my generals."
"Intimidation tactics," Lin Feng nodded sagely. "Classic management strategy. Sometimes you have to remind the team who signs the paychecks. Just don't overdo it. Fear is a short-term motivator. Loyalty is long-term."
Su Qingyue blinked. "Management... strategy."
She absorbed the words. He speaks of ruling as if it were a trade.
"You seem tired," Lin Feng observed. He gestured to the dark circles under her eyes. "Are you eating enough? You look like you're running on caffeine and anxiety."
"I... I was poisoned," she blurted out. She hadn't told anyone. Not even her guards. "This morning. But I survived."
"Food poisoning?" Lin Feng grimaced. "Nasty. You need electrolytes. And protein. I ate a rat today. It was spicy, but it cleared my system right out."
Su Qingyue laughed. It was a sudden, musical sound that startled them both. She hadn't laughed in three years.
"A rat?" she giggled, covering her mouth. "You defeated death with a rat?"
"Don't knock it until you try it," Lin Feng grinned. "High-energy protein."
The mist around them began to swirl. The dream was ending.
Su Qingyue felt a panic rise in her chest. She didn't want to go back to the cold palace, to the spies and the assassins.
"Wait," she said, reaching out. "Who are you?"
"I'm just a guy trying to meet a deadline," Lin Feng said, his figure beginning to fade. "Hey. Watch your left flank. In your 'management' meetings. The guy on your left always looks shifty in my experience."
Su Qingyue's eyes widened. The Regent sits on my left.
"Eat more protein," she called back, her voice desperate. "And... and fix your door! It's cold!"
Lin Feng gave a thumbs up as he dissolved into mist.
[Real World: Morning]
Lin Feng woke up with a start. The "heater" was still humming, filling the room with warmth.
He felt... rested. Truly rested. The mental fatigue that had plagued him since his death was gone.
MENTAL RESTORATION COMPLETE. SOUL BOND RESONANCE: LEVEL 1. PASSIVE SKILL UNLOCKED: [DUAL CULTIVATION OF THE MIND]. INTELLIGENCE +1.
"Dual cultivation?" Lin Feng rubbed his face. "Sounds like a weird yoga term. But hey, I feel great."
He stood up and looked at his door. The villagers had fixed it during the night, reinforcing it with thick oak planks and iron bands.
"Good advice," he muttered, remembering the woman's voice. Fix your door.
[The Imperial Palace]
Su Qingyue woke in her silk sheets. She sat up, clutching her chest. The warmth was still there.
"Watch your left flank," she whispered.
She stood up and rang the bell. Maids rushed in.
"Dress me," she commanded. "For the Grand Audience."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Which robe?"
"The red one," Su Qingyue said, her eyes hard. "The color of war. And bring me a breakfast. Meat. Lots of it."
The maids exchanged terrified glances. The Empress usually ate fruit and gruel.
An hour later, Su Qingyue sat on the Dragon Throne. The court assembled.
To her left sat the Regent, her uncle. He was smiling, a serpent in human skin.
Su Qingyue watched him. She remembered the man in the dream. Leverage.
She didn't listen to the Regent's droning speech about tax exemptions for his lands. She just watched his hands. He was tapping his fingers nervously.
He's hiding something, she realized. He's anxious.
"Uncle," Su Qingyue interrupted, her voice cutting through the hall.
The Regent froze. "Your Majesty?"
"The tax exemption is denied," she said flatly.
The court gasped.
"But... the precedent..." the Regent stammered, his smile faltering.
"The precedent is that I am the Empress," Su Qingyue said. She leaned forward, channeling the "Intimidation" she had felt yesterday. "And my leverage is that I know about the funds you are diverting from the Southern relief effort."
She didn't know. It was a bluff. A "management strategy."
The Regent went pale. He was diverting funds. How does she know? Who told her?
He bowed so low his head hit the floor. "I... I withdraw the request, Your Majesty."
Su Qingyue sat back, a small, secret smile playing on her lips.
It works, she thought. Thank you, Rat-Eater.