chapter 2 : zhenlan country

Feng Wu's voice was soft but steady.

"Can you fetch me some more water, Wuxin?"

Wuxin quickly wiped her tears and nodded, scrambling to her feet. "Y-Yes, Young Miss!"

As she turned to leave, Feng Wu’s voice called her back, firmer this time.

"Don’t call me ‘Young Miss’. Call my name."

Wuxin paused mid-step, glancing back in surprise. “Huh?”

Feng Wu’s eyes, once dulled by illness, now carried a quiet strength that hadn't been there before.

"Call me Feng Wu." Her gaze didn’t waver. “Not because of status. Because that’s who I am.”

Wuxin blinked, startled by the tone, the sudden shift in presence — but somehow, it felt… right.

“…Alright. Feng Wu,” she said quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll go get the water.”

She turned and dashed out of the room.

As the door creaked shut behind her, Feng Wu leaned back against the straw pillow, closing her eyes briefly.

The weakness in her body was real.

But her soul…

Was unshakable.

So, this was a world of cultivation — where the strong commanded the heavens, and the weak were left to rot.

The air around her felt different, thicker. Not with pollution like the cities she used to run through, but with something ancient… spiritual energy. It prickled at her skin like static, yet this body couldn’t draw in even a drop of it.

This world was merciless.

Power wasn’t just wealth. It was survival.

And she… was at the bottom of the food chain.

Through scattered memories that weren’t her own, she pieced together the basics. This land was vast, divided by clans, sects, and empires. And the place she now lived in — the place where this fragile girl was born and nearly left to die — was called:

Zhenlan Country (真澜国)

A mid-tier cultivation nation, known for its ancient spirit forests, beast mountains, and internal clan rivalries. On the surface, it was peaceful and elegant — ruled by powerful noble families, scholars, and sects.

But beneath that grace was a cruel hierarchy.

The water splashed softly into the basin. Wuxin, hands trembling, dipped a cloth into it and turned back to the bed. She couldn’t stop smiling. Feng Wu — her Feng Wu — was awake. Alive.

Feng Wu watched her quietly, leaning back against the thin pillows. Her body was still weak, bones like brittle wood. But her mind… her soul had never been sharper.

This world… wasn’t hers.

But it was now.

And this body — the old Feng Wu — had been cast aside, beaten, and nearly killed. Why?

Because she was weak in a place where weakness meant death.

Because in this world… power reigned.

This was Zhenlan Country, a vast nation ruled not by politics, but by cultivation. Here, strength carved paths. Sects raised mountains. Clans shaped empires.

At the peak of it all stood the Ye Clan (夜氏) — the ruling family, known as the Shadow Sovereigns. Born from a bloodline whispered to carry the power of celestial darkness, the Ye reigned supreme. Their command reached every sect, every noble house, every battlefield.

Their name alone could silence a city.

The monarch, Ye Qingxian, rarely showed himself, but his shadow was always present. Behind veils of night and spirit mist, he ruled Zhenlan without challenge.

Below the Ye were the pillars of nobility — the three great clans:

Qin Clan: Masters of the sword, loyal warriors who served as generals and executioners for the royal family.

Mu Clan: Alchemists and healers, known for their spiritual insight and terrifying ability to heal... or poison.

Lan Clan: Manipulators of illusions and spirit force, silent schemers cloaked in beauty and danger.

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