The Great Qian Empire is divided into thirteen provinces.
Each province is unique, each bustling with its own prosperity.
Take, for example, Tianling Province, where martial arts schools flourish; Nanyang Province, renowned for producing great scholars; and Jiangdao Prefecture, with its extensive network of waterways.
The taxes collected from these thirteen provinces are the vital lifeline that sustains the Great Qian Empire.
This is a matter of course.
The relationship between the government and the people, like that of a boat and water, depends entirely on taxes for its survival.
However.
In places like Qingniu Town, and all the similar border towns and villages of the Great Qian Empire, which do not belong to any province, is it really necessary to impose taxes?
Any rational person, even a six-year-old child, would conclude that taxes should not be levied here.
Yet, the Great Qian Empire does so anyway.
The answer is clear: the lofty emperor of Great Qian does not care about the survival of these border towns, not even stationing troops there.
It’s almost laughable. The Great Qian army, which is supposed to protect humanity, is stationed at the passes leading to the heart of the empire.
They block the demons and monsters trying to cross the border.
At the same time, they also block every civilian trying to escape this hell.
Wu Yingxue felt her throat go dry, as if sand had scraped across parched land: “How could this be…?”
“Are the people here truly left to fend for themselves?!”
The bizarre truth shattered her worldview.
The 16-year-old girl suddenly stood up.
Her hands pressed against the rough wooden table, her body leaning slightly forward, her trembling eyes filled with shock as she stared at Xu Xi.
“How can this be allowed? There are so many people here!”
“Not only are they not protected, but they’re also taxed. How can anyone survive under such conditions?”
Sunlight streamed in from outside, illuminating the pale skin of her arms and amplifying her trembling.
Her fingers dug into the surface of the table, the force transmitting through her body, causing her red-and-white robes to flutter up and down with every passing second.
Crack—
Crack—
It was the sound of her naive worldview shattering.
It was also the sound of the wooden table splintering under her grip.
In the Great Qian Empire, becoming a martial artist grants certain privileges, such as tax exemptions.
Moreover, the formidable strength of martial artists is the greatest confidence in facing demons and monsters.
But reality is often harsh.
The Qi and Blood martial arts of the martial world, compared to other supernatural systems, are relatively easy to start with, but there are still barriers. Not everyone can achieve success, and not everyone has access to good cultivation techniques.
In this world, the vast majority of people can only practice the most common "Qi Nurturing Technique."
This is a widely available, basic technique.
Anyone, anywhere, can find this publicly distributed foundational technique by the Great Qian government. It simply circulates Qi and Blood, increasing one’s strength in daily life.
That’s all it does.
To become a true martial artist, to avoid the empire’s taxes, to possess the strength to resist demons—
For the people of Qingniu Town, this is an incredibly difficult task.
“The world is full of illusions, but pain never lies,” Xu Xi did not directly answer the girl’s incredulous expression but instead reminded her to uncover the truth herself.
What you see with your own eyes may be an illusion.
What you hear with your own ears may be a hallucination.
But the pain hidden within people, within events, within desolation—that cannot be faked.
Wu Yingxue had been in Qingniu Town for some time now.
Although she had never stepped out of Xu Xi’s home, that didn’t mean she couldn’t observe this unfamiliar border town.
She had seen A’niu, overjoyed and jumping around like a fool, as he received demon flesh from Xu Xi. She had also seen a mother holding her baby, her expression vacant, uncertain of the future.
Wu Yingxue fell completely silent.
The 16-year-old young noblewoman, like a lotus rooted in clear water, was witnessing the muddy filth for the first time.
“Thank you for your guidance…”
“What I said earlier was truly foolish…”
Wu Yingxue apologized to Xu Xi.
She picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of the demon meat she had spat out earlier, and chewed it in silence, swallowing it with determination.
A mouthful of porridge, a mouthful of demon meat.
She didn’t stop until the bowl was empty.
“Hah—!” Wu Yingxue gripped the dragon-patterned spear with her smooth, delicate hands and walked alone into the courtyard. She began to practice her spear techniques, thrusting, slashing, and spinning the spear with incredible speed, venting her anger through the movements.
The sound of the wind howled as fallen leaves in the courtyard were swept up, dancing alongside her fiery figure.
“Though she’s a bit impulsive and naive, she possesses a rare purity of heart,” Xu Xi silently took a bite of braised demon meat, his opinion of the girl rising slightly.
It’s normal for people to make mistakes, especially when past experiences often limit their thinking.
Wu Yingxue was able to recognize her mistake.
And her act of re-eating the meat she had spat out.
This proved that she was not just a sheltered flower, nor was she a hypocrite who only paid lip service.
“But, how should I put it? Are all crows under the heavens equally black?”
Xu Xi’s teeth chewed the dark meat, the saliva helping to break it down into strands that he swallowed with difficulty, the lump sliding down his throat and into his stomach.
Demon meat was indeed hard to eat.
But in Qingniu Town, there were no better options.
As he ate, Xu Xi pondered the relationship between the Great Qian Empire and the Ten Thousand Mountains.
“This practice of sacrificing a portion of the population is almost identical in nature to the Allenson Incident in the magical world. It’s easy to draw parallels.”
“No, to be precise, it’s an even more heinous act.”
“Deities, to emphasize the rarity of their miracles, do not frequently create disasters. In my previous simulation, a city-wide tragedy like the one in Allenson City occurred only once.”
“Deities create disasters, demonstrate their divine might, and bestow blessings—this cycle typically happens once every few hundred or thousand years.”
“Most of the time, the deities of the magical world are indeed protectors of humanity.”
“They maintain the world’s order, embodying the laws of existence, coexisting with humanity.”
“But the martial world is different…”
Xu Xi put down his bowl and chopsticks, his brow furrowed. “In the eyes of the demons, humans are merely food, with no status whatsoever.”
“There might be some agreement between the Great Qian Empire and the demons.”
“Or perhaps it’s just an unspoken understanding.”
“In any case, all the people living on the borders have long been abandoned by Great Qian, becoming a reserve of flesh and blood for the demons.”
“Only this can explain the empire’s bewildering actions.”
After finishing his meal, Xu Xi stepped out of the room.
The first thing he saw was Wu Yingxue, her spear dancing with fierce momentum and powerful energy.
Behind her, in the distance, loomed the dark mountains, exuding an oppressive aura despite their remoteness.
One towering peak after another stood solemnly, stretching endlessly like a colossal black dragon crouching on the earth, its arched back encircling all human territories.
“What a damnable world…”