Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Way of the Feudal Lord

Shen Tang took another bite.

The sourness almost tore her face into a grimace.

“Sure, it’s sour. Each word-spirit can only give one, and the yield is low, but it’s edible. That’s enough.”

They were free green plums. She couldn’t exactly be picky.

She planned to conjure more, then turn them into preserved plums, salted plums, or green-plum wine. Zero cost. Even if she didn’t strike it rich, she could at least keep herself alive.

She picked out a plum that was big, hard, and vividly green—so sour it looked like it had the word written on its skin—and offered it to Qi Shan.

“Here, Sir Qi. Want to try one?”

Qi Shan didn’t take it right away. His eyes dropped to the plum in her hand, then lifted to her face—to that smug grin that said she’d caught a fat wolf with bare hands. His brow twitched. Something like a vein jumped at his temple.

Did this little young lord even understand…?

After a long moment, he sighed and accepted it.

He wiped it with his sleeve and took a bite.

Sour.

Not just sour—brutal.

The texture and taste were exactly like an unripe green plum.

Watching his composure start to crack, Shen Tang laughed. “If it were a bit riper, it’d taste even better. I wonder if there’s a word-spirit that can conjure wine, too.

“If there is, we could brew green-plum wine and hide it away. When winter snow falls, we’ll go admire the lake, boil tea, drink wine, snack on plums… wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Qi Shan looked at her, unreadable.

“If you think it’s good, then it’s good,” he said at last, voice low. “Just don’t regret today’s reckless move later…”

Shen Tang paused mid-chew. “Sir Qi, what do you mean? Being able to conjure things isn’t a good thing?

“I’ll regret it?”

“For others, it is. For you… maybe not.”

There was something regretful in the way he looked at her, like she’d tossed away a priceless treasure without even realizing it. Before she could press him, he abruptly changed course.

“Of course,” he added, “if Young Master Shen has no grand ambitions and only wants two full meals and a roof over their head, then this can still be called a good thing.”

Shen Tang kept chewing. Outwardly she looked blank, but inside her brow tightened.

She tested the waters. “Does it have something to do with my literary heart?”

Qi Shan’s eyes flickered with surprise. He nodded. “Partly.”

Shen Tang leaned in, ready to listen.

Qi Shan, however, didn’t elaborate.

What could he say?

Tell her the state seal Madam Gong had hidden might be on her?

Even if he had no interest in the state seal, Young Master Shen might think differently. To avoid pointless misunderstandings, it was better to act like he knew nothing.

More importantly, he suspected her literary heart had already resonated with the state seal—and, in doing so, awakened the Way of the Feudal Lord by accident.

The relationship between literary heart, martial gall, and a state seal was unusually intricate.

A state seal could steady a nation’s fortune, ward off external threats—and it carried another critical power: the Way of the Feudal Lord.

A feudal lord with both literary heart and martial gall, holding a state seal, might resonate with it. Guided by the desires in their heart, they could randomly obtain a special ability. Most feudal lords gained abilities like “Command,” “Win Hearts,” or “Followers.” Some even gained abilities that strengthened the literary heart and martial gall of civil and military officials under them, making it easy to draw capable people into their service.

Qi Shan didn’t know what Shen Tang’s Way of the Feudal Lord was, but it was definitely tied to “agriculture.”

Otherwise, how could she conjure green plums?

A feudal lord with talent in “agriculture”… just hearing it sounded like a dead end.

Still, Young Master Shen didn’t seem ambitious. If all she wanted was to survive, this ability suited her perfectly. At least she wouldn’t starve.

Meanwhile, Shen Tang felt like a cat was clawing at the inside of her skull.

She hated people who stopped halfway and made you guess.

“If you won’t say, you must have your reasons,” she said, retreating so she could advance. “Normally I wouldn’t pry, but it involves me. So let me guess—did something go wrong with my literary heart?

“Is it serious? Can it be fixed?”

“No,” Qi Shan said, crisp as a blade.

As far as he knew, one state seal corresponded to one feudal lord—and one Way of the Feudal Lord.

This gifted ability needed the state seal as a medium to activate it. Except for one case, it stayed fixed for life.

What case?

Death.

As long as Young Master Shen lived, if the state seal was in her hands, she’d be stuck with whatever ability it had awakened now. The only silver lining was that she’d never need to worry about starving.

But if she had ambitions… then she was in trouble.

A bad start. A flaw from birth. She wouldn’t last against the other wolves and tigers.

Qi Shan’s expression grew heavier by the second, and Shen Tang suddenly found the plum in her hand far less appetizing.

Was she… dying?

Her thoughts spiraled wildly. If Qi Shan hadn’t spoken again, she might have gone all the way to imagining herself half-dead on a pallet, writing her last words.

“Young Master Shen,” Qi Shan said, “besides the plums from ‘gaze at plums to quench thirst,’ can you conjure anything else?”

Shen Tang shook her head. “I don’t know. But I can try.”

Qi Shan pulled out another scroll and pointed to a passage. “Try this word-spirit.”

Shen Tang leaned closer. “‘Draw cakes on the ground; they cannot be eaten?’”

“This one is similar to ‘gaze at plums to quench thirst.’”

If one could produce green plums, maybe the other could produce flatbread.

Shen Tang frowned. “But it says ‘cannot be eaten.’ If you draw cakes, how are you supposed to eat them?

“Wouldn’t it be better to simplify it to ‘painted cakes to satisfy hunger’?”

A cake filled you up more than a plum.

Plums were refreshing, sure, but they were small and sour. Even Shen Tang’s iron stomach couldn’t handle many.

She’d chewed through more than twenty, and her gums were already numb.

She tried more than ten times. Nothing happened.

She slumped, frustrated—then her gaze snagged on the dense notes covering the scroll. Her eyes lit up.

She shifted her finger to another line. “Sir Qi, compared to drawing cakes, this one is way more interesting—turn stone to gold, to pay back taxes!”

“Turn stone to gold?”

Qi Shan instantly understood what she was plotting.

“Yes! Turn stone to gold!” Shen Tang leaned forward, animated. “How many pounds of plums and cakes could a little gold buy?

“Value-wise, that word-spirit is obviously superior. And there’s also ‘hide a beauty in a golden house.’ That could work too—just imagine. Does it conjure the golden house, or the beauty?

“If it’s the beauty—male or female? Pretty or ugly—”

Qi Shan looked at her like he was watching sunlight argue with a rock.

“So young, and already dreaming big,” he said dryly. “If you’re not afraid of dropping dead, go ahead and try.”

Shen Tang froze. “What?”

Qi Shan’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “A word-spirit’s value and effect depend on how much literary heart it consumes.

“The stronger the literary heart, the greater the consumption—and the stronger the word-spirit.

“Force a word-spirit beyond your limit and fail, and you’ll only be weak for a while. But succeed…” His eyes sharpened. “And it will backlash. Hard.

“Shortened lifespan. Dying young. Illness that pins you to bed. Some people bleed from all seven orifices and drop dead on the spot.

“Throughout history, tragedies like that have been countless. Don’t let curiosity and greed drag you into it.”

A green plum, a single cake—how could they compare to gold, silver, or jade?

Everything had a price.