The beautiful South China Sea stretched out in endless blue, sky and water blending together. A massive ship cruised freely across the waves. The mainland was now just a faint outline in the distance—only the lookout perched atop the mast, squinting with all his might, could barely make out the blurry coastline. The sea breeze whipped through the sails, making them billow. This enormous Phoenix Riverboat, easily rivaling the Long River Triad's flagship, was the true titan of ships in this world and era.
Getting this kind of behemoth all the way from the upper reaches of the Pearl River to the river mouth was already a total cheat code move. It took a ridiculous amount of rowing and towing along the way—seriously, it was no small feat.
Setting off from the Pearl River estuary, the ship hugged the coastline eastward. The Phoenix Riverboat wasn’t in any rush—it sailed a bit, then stopped, taking its sweet time to dock now and then. Partly, it was to restock food and water and let the horses stretch their legs. But the slow pace was also on purpose. The Celestial Arts Ensemble’s reputation, like a web novel’s collection count, needed time to build up, bit by bit. Lots of other things needed time too—no point in rushing it.
Every stop along the way, they launched a publicity blitz and put on a show. The Ensemble took the water route in broad daylight, while the Shadow Ops moved silently by land. Bright and dark, open and hidden, they worked together, covering each other’s backs. Each performance was like tossing a pebble into the water—tiny, sure, but if you keep a steady rhythm, you can stir up ripples that spread far and wide.
It was the fifth day since they’d left the Pearl River mouth, and Shantown was finally in sight. The waters here were full of hidden reefs, so they couldn’t stick too close to shore. Conveniently, there were plenty of things aboard that shouldn’t see the light of day, either. So today, the Phoenix Riverboat sailed way out, far from the mainland and the fishing grounds, into the vast, endless sea.
At the bow of the Phoenix Riverboat, a stone statue posed like a Wild West cowboy clutching a lasso. That lasso was hooked up to five internal energy jars below, feeding it the power to grow. Just behind the statue, Jill Young was sprawled out like a retiree on a Hawaiian vacation—rocking floral shorts and a big jacket, arms tucked behind her head, lounging on a deck chair. Her pale skin glowed in the blazing sun, somehow never tanning no matter what, making all the girls jealous and sparking a fresh wave of enthusiasm for training Dragon Elephant Technique.
"Whew—haaaah~~~" Mr. Yang had cucumber slices over his eyes, flipped over on the deck chair, and—half-awake, half-dreaming—struck a pose straight out of the twelfth panel of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra. His meridians hummed and buzzed, sending out waves of vibration from his lower abdomen and chest, like a silent symphony. The golden glow along his meridians was now rock-solid, and all twelve major channels crackled with energy.
It was just like stretching your bones and popping your joints after a good nap—crack, crack! The last two meridians of the twelve main channels opened up at the exact same time.
Life essence rolled and refined through the blood, and his Supreme Technique inner strength naturally broke through the fifty-five-year mark. Still a ways off from the full sixty years, but there were no obstacles left. As long as the energy kept building, the rest would happen on its own.
And for her, building up that inner strength wasn’t much of a challenge anymore.
"Ah, that hits the spot!" Jill Young sprang up, twisting her waist and puffing out her chest. She tossed a sub-grade meat pill into her mouth like a snack, then flicked another one into the Divine Life Core’s mouth. The Divine Life Core didn’t have a digestive tract, but it didn’t need one—it just absorbed the nutrients from the meat pill like sucking on a chocolate. Right now, the Divine Life Core was like a hungry baby, eating anything and everything. The more sub-grade meat pills, the better.
With all that energy, the Divine Life Core’s upper body was now fully human-like, and the details of its legs were slowly taking shape.
"It’s a weird feeling, like I’m feeding myself," Jill Young mused, circling the Divine Life Core. She took a cup of plum juice from Grace Kwok, snapped her fingers, and said, "Next time, let’s have this guy sprout wings and try out a pair of hand-cannons!"
The Divine Life Core’s ability to transform wasn’t limited to limbs or facial expressions—it could even conjure up clothes and accessories. Right now, its growth wasn’t enough for fine details, but as it matured and if Jill’s willpower stayed strong, it could shift forms like a quantum network—endless possibilities.
A few days ago, while rehearsing a play, Director Jill’s imagination went wild—she possessed the Divine Life Core and transformed its spirit into Pyramid Head from Silent Hill, just to see what would happen. And it actually worked! Simone, ever the quick learner, immediately picked it up and used it to tell ghost stories and scare Shao Qi.
But no matter how much it changed, the basics stayed the same. Jill could put a giant triangle hat on the Divine Life Core’s head, but she couldn’t turn it into a ten-foot-tall muscle monster. The Divine Life Core was dead set on Jill as its motherboard—stubborn as a rock.
"Hmm, this spot’s perfect." Director Jill glanced around—nobody in sight, not a soul nearby. She checked above and below the water; everything was just right. So, what are we waiting for? "Drop the sails, stop the ship, drop anchor!"
The crew dropped the sails, and the massive Phoenix Riverboat came to a halt on the sparkling waves. Everyone knew what was coming next, so they got to work like pros. Some brought out zithers, some grabbed flutes, some lugged out war drums—the band was set up on deck in no time.
"Stage crew, props, music, actors—everyone in place! Time for today’s rehearsal!" Jill Young looked every bit the big-shot director, rolling up her script into a paper tube and brimming with energy. "This is the fourth rehearsal of the second-to-last scene in Act One of ‘Ghost Bride.’ The key is the music. All you drummers, make it dramatic when Black Mountain Demon appears—earth-shattering, world-ending, that kind of vibe! Musicians, keep the rhythm tight; actors, get your emotions fired up. Three, two, one—go!"
Jiao Niang stepped out of the pavilion, watching the busy crowd below with great interest. Under Director Jill’s command, she saw brand-new art forms springing up—things she’d never seen before. In a world where artistic life was pretty bare, these fresh styles and formats had a powerful pull.
At dusk, the Phoenix Riverboat sailed into a bay bathed in sunset glow. Geographically, this spot was roughly equivalent to the Shantou area on Earth. The coastline had a neat little inlet—like a lake directly connected to the sea, making it a natural, top-tier harbor.
Where there’s a harbor, there’s a bustling town—and this seaside city was every bit as lively as New Haven City. The port boasted miles of lamps lining the embankment; from afar, the newly lit lanterns reflected off the water, creating a dazzling, surreal world.
And with the arrival of the Phoenix Riverboat, that dazzling scene got a bold, dramatic new splash of color.
"Look! The Celestial Arts Ensemble’s Phoenix Riverboat is here!" Someone spotted the ship from afar and ran off to spread the news, all excited.
The Ensemble’s PR game was on point—their publicity and performance schedule was perfectly timed, letting rumors about them spread from place to place right on cue. For the locals, the stories about the Ensemble grew in layers, from whispers to legends. Today they performed here, tomorrow they’d be somewhere else—new gossip every day! The hype just kept building.
And with the philosophy of "We’ve got money to burn!" the Shadow Ops’ publicity blitz was absolutely crushing it. For days now, they’d been spreading the word about the show. Taverns, inns, roadside stalls, teahouses—everywhere you looked, people were talking about the Celestial Arts Ensemble.
Some folks scoffed, thinking it was all smoke and mirrors. "Just a bunch of showgirls," they said. "Even if they’re not selling their bodies, they’re still just high-class courtesans—what’s so special about that?" But others were more open-minded, saying those two things weren’t the same at all. Some die-hard fans even blew up, cussing out the naysayers with creative, totally family-friendly insults like, "I bought a watch last year!"
People swapped wild stories or got red-faced arguing about who was better—there was no shortage of drama.
The biggest draw this time? The Ensemble was putting on a special show—brand-new format, and ladies only. No matter how good the performance was, men weren’t getting in. Period.
This rule ticked off a lot of people—straight-up gender discrimination, they said. But it also fired up women’s curiosity. Even with all the mixed opinions flying around, plenty of folks just couldn’t resist and wanted to check it out for themselves.
What really set this show apart was the rumor that the mysterious Skylar Phoenix—the legendary Ensemble leader—would finally make a public appearance and join the performance.
Suddenly, the whole town was buzzing: to go or not to go? That was the hot topic on every street corner.
By 8 p.m., the Phoenix Riverboat’s dock was packed with curious onlookers. The ship blazed with lights, illuminating the wharf. The girls were all at their posts—greeting guests, prepping backstage—looking more and more like a real pro troupe. In the top cabin, Maggie Monroe quietly lifted the window curtain, watching the noisy scene below.
"Lots of people showed up, but most are just here for the spectacle. Hardly anyone’s actually interested." Maggie’s eyes swept the crowd, sharp as autumn water. "There’s at least a thousand gathered, but if you look closely, some are mocking, some don’t care, some are just hesitant. We had Shadow Ops go all out with promotion, and now it’s almost showtime—but not a single person’s boarded the ship. This is tougher than I thought."
Back when it was mixed-gender, it wasn’t a big deal—if someone led the way, the women could tag along without a fuss. Even if the busybodies gossiped, there were always excuses: "My husband made me go," or "My senior brother dragged me here." But now, with ladies-only entry, there’s no cover. And with so many people watching, every move is under a microscope. So, only a handful of bold, independent women would dare step up.
And after all this waiting, not a single person had boarded yet.
"No need to stress," Jill Young said, totally unfazed. "What we want are the ones who can walk up in front of everyone and still board the ship. The kind who have the guts to go against the flow and try new things—those are the future pillars of society. Since we’re doing something revolutionary, we need true dragon heroines."
Maggie Monroe, though, couldn’t let it go so easily. "That’s all well and good, but if we flop right out of the gate—if not a single person boards—we’ll be the laughingstock of the town. That’ll hurt us down the line."
"Ha! Don’t worry, we’ve already got Shadow Ops working behind the scenes!" Jill Young grinned. "If things really go south, there’ll be someone to save the day. But honestly, I’d rather not use our plants unless we have to. After all, I’ve busted my butt rehearsing for ages—if we have to pad the audience with our own people, what’s the point? At the very least, we need a few real guests. Oh—look, here they come."
A carriage rolled up in the distance, attendants clearing the way. The carriage was draped in gauzy curtains and decked out in fancy decorations—definitely the ride of a big-shot family. The crowd parted smoothly, clearly recognizing who was coming.
"Miss Cynthia Liu is here!" "They say the third Miss Liu is pretty bold—always out and about. I never believed it, but seeing her today, I guess it’s true." "Dad, if Miss Liu gets to go, I want to go too!" "You’re just a kid, you’re not allowed!" "Such a shame—a proper young lady who won’t follow the rules. Don’t you agree, Auntie Three?" "Absolutely, Auntie Six. Who knows if she’ll ever get married now…"
Amid all the chatter, the carriage stopped. A maid pulled back the gauzy curtains, and out stepped a girl in a pale yellow dress. She took a careful look at the Phoenix Riverboat, then nodded with admiration. "The Phoenix Riverboat really does live up to its name. It looks ready to soar—such ambition! Maybe this Celestial Arts Ensemble is the real deal after all."
One bold move leads to another. As Miss Cynthia Liu was admiring the ship, a figure dashed over from afar, moving surprisingly fast. Tall, dark-skinned, sword at her waist—she was clearly a martial woman. Maybe it’s just that martial artists don’t care much for social rules, or maybe she was just naturally blunt—either way, she ignored the crowd’s stares, rushed right up to the dock, bent over gasping for breath, then straightened up and grinned. "Made it just in time!"
Miss Cynthia Liu’s eyes lit up, and she stepped forward. "Sister, judging by your outfit, are you from the Heavenly Sword Sect?"
"I wouldn’t dare call myself a heroine," the dark-skinned woman replied with a crisp martial salute. "I’m Jade Lin, disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect."
"Wow, you really are a wandering swordswoman!" Miss Liu’s eyes sparkled—she clearly had a thing for martial heroes. "I’m Cynthia Liu, and I’ve always admired wandering knights. Would you like to join me for the show tonight?"
"Absolutely—let’s go together!"
The two hit it off instantly. Cynthia Liu told her servants to wait outside, then she and Jade Lin headed for the ship, followed by their maids and attendants.
Once someone made the first move, the rest was easy—more and more people started boarding. The show had a cap of a hundred guests, but by the time the ship left port, only about forty had gotten on. Still, Maggie Monroe was satisfied. Every beginning is tough, but she believed—today forty, tomorrow fifty, and soon four hundred, four thousand, forty thousand.
Jill Young rushed off to get ready for the show, while Maggie Monroe picked up her book and started writing at her desk.
"Whenever you raise an army for war, forced conscription is the worst—morale tanks. Just look at the Spring and Autumn era: lords would drag peasants into battle, and the moment things got rough, everyone bolted. Fighting for profit is better—everyone hustles for gain, but ambition runs wild and soon you’ve got bandits pillaging for a quick buck. Fighting for survival is better still—like the Lord crossing the river, backs to the water, breaking the pots and sinking the boats, everyone united and unstoppable. But that drive can’t last forever; it fades after the first rush, then dwindles, and eventually burns out. The highest level? Only those who fight for a belief."
"Nothing in life matters except death—but if you have something to believe in, you’ll never regret it, even if you die for it."
Maggie Monroe set down her brush and picked up her book—she was deep into the Wedding Dress Divine Skill.
The ship pulled away from the dock and town, drifting like it was in a world of its own. And in this world, Director Jill’s script became the main theme. A little bit of art and music might not seem like much, but if you look at history, every real revolution started with a spark of new ideas.
First came the Renaissance, then the rise of the bourgeoisie. First the New Cultural Enlightenment, then the explosion of national revolutions. Culture and ideas—those are the real front lines. The more people who believe in you, the more who agree with you—that’s what shapes public opinion and drives history. And art? It’s the vessel for those ideas. It quietly changes every audience, one by one.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Celestial Arts Ensemble. Please enjoy tonight’s musical: Ghostly Romance." Phoebe Phoenix’s voice floated out: "It’s a time of chaos—life is cheap, and the wilderness is crawling with bandits and beasts. Tonight, a dashing scholar, Ning Caichen, braves the storm..."
As the narration played, Grace Kwok took the stage in men’s clothes—long robe, book box slung on her back, looking both fresh-faced and handsome. The crowd gasped in delight.