At exactly midnight, the forge lanterns dimmed.
Not from a lack of fuel. But because something old and vast had entered the room.
Jiang Ye paused mid-stroke, his quill hovering just above the page where he'd been sketching a new rotary gearset. The metal around him—the very walls—vibrated with something ancient, low, mechanical.
Not dangerous.
Just… alert.
"Master Reforger," came the Sentinel's voice, smoother than usual. "Apologies. A system anomaly has been corrected."
Jiang Ye raised an eyebrow.
"What anomaly?"
"During transmigration protocol, standard host initialization procedures were incompletely executed.
Initial bonus packages were not issued."
Jiang Ye blinked once.
"You mean—like those 'newbie packs' in cheap transmigration novels?"
"Affirmative. Oversight was caused by narrative entropy. An apology has been logged. System now rectifying."
For the first time in weeks, Jiang Ye genuinely laughed.
"An apology. From the author?"
"Indirectly."
A small panel opened in the far wall of the forge, sliding outward with the hiss of vacuum-sealed brass. Within, four hovering glyphs pulsed in mid-air, each encased in a glowing cube of qi-stabilized script.
The Sentinel continued:
"Issuing delayed Host Initiation Bonuses."
🟨 [1] Financial Catalyst Package – Hidden Vault Key:
Location: Under the collapsed pagoda behind the Jiang ancestral shrine.
Contents: 4,500 gold taels, 380 mid-grade spirit stones, 1 antique Sect Treasury Seal.
🟥 [2] Combat Advancement Package – Prototype Modular Weapon Core:
Description: A weapon housing that accepts forged spiritual tech modules. Transformable. Usable with current strength.
Modes: Blade, launcher, concussive rod.
Bound to Host.
🟩 [3] Material Supply Package – Nanoforge Resource Cache:
Description: Compressed subspace vault containing refined base metals, qi glass, spiritual copper, and 12 rare alloys extinct in this world.
Volume: One hectare in dimensional fold.
🟪 Bonus Apology Gift – Unlocking Sentinel Market Interface
Function: Host may now access curated schematics, rare components, spiritual formulas, and construct libraries via integrated shop.
Currency: Civilization Points (CP) or refined spiritual essence.
Jiang Ye stared.
Then smiled slowly.
It was the kind of smile that would terrify kings.
"So we're done crawling."
"We were never crawling, Master. We were sharpening."
Two hours later, he stood at the base of the ruined pagoda behind the family shrine.
The ground was wet from last week's rain. The weeds came up easy under his boots. No one had touched this place in years. Not even the caretakers dared sweep where the old elders were buried.
Using the Sentinel's exact scan overlay, Jiang Ye stepped forward ten paces, turned left by seven, and stomped once.
The ground crunched.
Then hissed.
He knelt and pressed his palm flat.
The stone glowed faintly—and split.
Inside: a locked steel chest covered in talismanic seals, their energy barely active but still loyal to the Jiang bloodline.
He cracked it open.
Gold gleamed like stale sunlight. Spirit stones pulsed in cotton wraps. But it was the seal—a six-sided jade token stamped with the crest of the Hundred Dawn Treasury—that caught his eye.
With that, he could move funds in silence. No need to barter. No need to answer questions. Just one stamped order, and gold would flow.
He exhaled.
He had money.
Now, he could buy silence.
At dawn, Wu Meixue returned.
Not by messenger. Not with escort.
She rode into the outer courtyard on a stolen spirit-wolf pelt, laughing, drunk, and barefoot.
"Jiang Ye!" she called out, voice loud and uncaring of walls or watchers. "Where's my wine, you cowardly schemer?"
He stood waiting on the steps of the main hall, arms folded.
"You're late," he said.
"You didn't send for me."
"I knew you'd come."
Wu Meixue grinned. Her red hair was wild, a blood-colored waterfall tied back with bone cord. Her robes were scorched at the hems. Two rings dangled from her belt—trophies, stripped from two fallen sect disciples.
"Still clever," she said, climbing the steps. "Still pretty, in that fox-faced, backstabbing sort of way."
"And you're still violent."
"Violent gets results."
She stopped a step below him.
They were nearly eye to eye.
"I need your fire," Jiang Ye said plainly.
"And I need your gold," she said, just as blunt. "And your clever tongue. And maybe your bed, depending on how bored I get."
He reached into his sleeve, pulled a folded contract.
"Command of twenty men. Access to new tools. First pick of captured qi-weapons. No rules—except loyalty. You serve no other flag."
She took the paper. Didn't read it.
Instead, she tossed it over her shoulder and leaned in.
"I'll serve," she said, voice low. "But only if you let me test your newest toy in blood."
They didn't have to wait long.
By noon, a report came from the cliffside alchemy shed.
One of the outer workshops—meant to serve as a decoy—had been marked by a low-tier cultivator from the Hidden Edge Sect. A scout.
He hadn't been subtle.
Jiang Ye arrived an hour later, Wu Meixue at his side, both cloaked in gray traveling garb.
The scout had been smart enough to hide after spotting the forge layout. Not smart enough to know he was being followed.
He crouched now near a tree line, scribbling on a talisman scroll, lips moving as he tried to embed a communication spell.
He never finished.
Wu Meixue dropped from the tree behind him and kicked the back of his head into the dirt.
Hard.
Jiang Ye approached calmly. The scout twitched, dazed.
"Name," Jiang Ye said.
No answer.
Wu Meixue drew her blade.
The scout swallowed.
"Li… Li Chen," he gasped.
"Affiliation?"
"…Outer disciple. Hidden Edge Sect."
Jiang Ye knelt beside him.
"You weren't ordered to come here. This was curiosity. Or greed."
"I—"
"I'm not angry," Jiang Ye said. "I'm curious."
He drew the Prototype Modular Weapon Core from his belt. It was compact—no longer than a forearm—and gleamed like oil-fed obsidian. At his mental command, it unfolded into its first mode: a slim-edged curved blade with a violet core.
The edge hummed faintly.
He held it up.
"This can cut through most warding formations," he said gently. "Would you like to see?"
The scout pissed himself.
"Pity," Jiang Ye said.
Then stood.
He turned to Meixue.
"Test it."
She didn't ask what he meant.
She switched to the concussive rod mode with one flick of her wrist and swung it once into the tree trunk behind them.
The entire top half of the tree exploded in a burst of wind and pulverized bark.
Birds scattered.
Wu Meixue laughed like a storm.
The scout fainted.
By dusk, the scout was buried. Quietly. Without name or marker.
Back at the manor, Jiang Ye stood before his inner court, holding a fresh scroll of crimson silk. Wax-sealed, blank, official.
His message to the magistrate of Stonewell Town.
An invitation to open talks about "joining bloodlines and revitalizing Fangyan through noble unity."
It was a lie.
But the appearance of a political marriage pact would slow sect suspicion. It bought him time. It bought him legitimacy.
And if the magistrate sent his daughter?
Well, that was just another piece on the board.
"Master Reforger," said the Sentinel as Jiang Ye retired to his study, "shall I begin preparing the blueprint for spiritual armor integration? With your current nanomachine compatibility, it is now viable."
"Yes," Jiang Ye said, untying his robe. "But slowly. I don't want my bones to scream just yet."
"Understood. Estimated prep time: 36 hours."
He poured himself a cup of wine.
Outside, lightning flashed in the distance.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Jiang Ye allowed himself a quiet truth:
He wasn't surviving anymore.
He was building.