From ancient times, China has seen countless rises and falls. Every school of thought, every master, has their own unique skills.
Though the philosophers rarely spoke of supernatural forces, that doesn't mean they didn't exist. Take Daoist energy cultivation, for instance—it's one of those so-called supernatural arts. The martial world has roamed the land for ages, and their real power is too obvious to deny. Likewise, there are other extraordinary individuals out there. They might not be mainstream, vanishing as quickly as they appear, but when these oddballs are around, they can pull off feats no one else can.
The Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun—a wound that never heals for Han men. Once, Han people rode free here; now, they're at the bottom, mere slaves and outcasts.
Miller, the old capital of the Jin Dynasty, is bustling with construction. Countless Jin remnants and Han people have been conscripted as laborers, driven by Mongol officers' whips and shouts, working on endless mega-projects. The world is still in chaos— even within the Mongol Khanate, things aren't unified. It makes no sense to start such costly undertakings now. And yet, the Mongols are so determined to develop the land, they'd rather slow down their military campaigns than stop, rebuilding Miller brick by brick.
At the highest point of Miller’s central axis stands Jingshan.
At the summit, a man in his thirties stands with his hands behind his back. Though young, he’s got sharp features and an unmistakable presence. His narrow eyes are half-closed, half-open, as if countless cosmic secrets are spinning in his gaze.
"Mr. Guo, the Khan has sent another messenger." A servant announces, and soon a high-ranking official strides over, decked out in brocade robes and surrounded by attendants. Clearly someone important. Yet, this Mongol bigwig is surprisingly respectful to the young man who isn’t even wearing official attire.
He has no choice but to show respect. This man is young—barely old enough to grow a proper mustache. But when he speaks, Kublai Khan himself will mobilize over a hundred thousand workers to reshape mountains, dig lakes, and build roads. His favor rivals that of the High Priest of the Eternal Heaven Sect. Rumor has it he’s got powers beyond mortal comprehension—not someone a minor official would dare cross.
So, from a distance, the official mimics the Han custom, clasping his hands and laughing heartily in flawless Han Chinese: "Mr. Guo, sorry to bother you again! The Khan asks about your predictions three times a day, and we officials are getting anxious. Any conclusions yet, Mr. Guo?"
The man on the summit seems lost in thought, but at the question, he snaps back to reality. Without turning around, he coolly replies, "I have an answer."