Su Mo's Heart Knot

The City Lord's Mansion's decree struck like thunder, and under Zhang Minghui's personal supervision, it spread to every corner of Trade City within half an hour. The stewards of the three academies appeared together at Inner City Square, where a scarlet notice board was suspended a hundred meters in the air by cultivators' spiritual power. "Unlimited sourcing, high prices for Demon Cores, beast hides, and demon bones"—the dozen-odd characters gleamed with cold light, sending chills down the spines of the foreign races watching. Yet more than fear, their eyes burned with greed for wealth.

The villages outside the city had long received veiled notices. Those foreign-race villagers who had lived for generations dependent on Trade City strapped Laser Hunting Knives—replicas from the Technology Academy—at their waists, clutched Binding Talismans produced by the Talisman Academy, and crept in groups toward the gaps in the city walls. They knew this was a rare chance to get rich. In the past, they had to fear the City Lord Mansion's rules, but now with an open "Purchase Order," all restraint was gone.

When night fell, screams began to rise and fall from the dense forest beyond the walls, mingled with the roars of the Demon Race and the crisp crack of talisman detonations. After each scream faded, villagers soon emerged carrying heavy beast-hide sacks, entering the city through dedicated passages to deliver their fresh "goods" to the three academies' purchasing points.

The changes inside the city came swiftly and eerily. Streets that had been clogged with congestion just the day before were half-empty overnight. The foreign races that had once lain begging by the roadside had either vanished without a trace or been turned into a Demon Core or a beast hide at the purchasing points. The patrolling soldiers finally caught their breath. Walking along the clean streets, their eyes swept over the towering Skyscrapers on either side, their glass facades reflecting a pale sky light—it was almost easy to forget this had once been a chaotic gathering place for foreign races.

Occasionally, a straggler tried to resist, baring fangs only to be locked onto by a hovering drone. A laser beam fell, instantly stunning them, and they were dragged away by villagers who rushed over at the news, leaving behind only a faint bloodstain, soon washed clean by a Cleaning Robot.

Su Mo stood on the rooftop terrace of the City Lord's Mansion, looking down at the city gradually returning to order. The divine sense of a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal enveloped the entire city—every transaction and slaughter hidden in the shadows was laid out clearly before him. He saw the Alchemy Academy's furnaces glowing red all night, the moment a Demon Core was thrown in, the rising white mist tinged with a faint scent of blood. He saw the Artifact Refining Academy's craftsmen tanning beast hides and tempering demon bones, forging one spiritual artifact after another. He saw the Technology Academy's laboratories, where researchers were dismantling the spiritual cores of foreign races, trying to extract their energy to improve weapons and equipment.

"City Lord, over these three days, the three academies have purchased over seven thousand three hundred Demon Cores, more than twelve thousand beast hides, and over five thousand jin of demon bones. The foreign races still lingering in the city are less than thirty percent of the original number. Street disturbances have been completely quelled." Zhang Minghui stood behind him, his tone carrying an unmistakable lightness. "The villagers outside have made a fortune, and even quite a few Rogue Cultivators have joined in. Now those foreign races have either fled or don't dare show their faces anymore."

Su Mo did not turn around. Between his fingers, he toyed with a jade slip brought from Jixia Academy, his expression complicated. He could feel the Human Race's fortune growing more concentrated, the technological light among the high-rises growing ever brighter, but deep in his heart, a nameless heaviness stirred. He remembered the terror in the eyes of the Black Ape and the other foreign races, remembered Zhang Minghui's words about "protecting the safety and interests of the Human Race." Perhaps this was the way of survival in Trade City—the strong devouring the weak, never changing. But he, this "scholar" City Lord, had ultimately set this bloody purge in motion with his own hands.

Just then, the communicator buzzed with a joint message from the three academies. Zhang Minghui glanced at it and reported, "City Lord, the Alchemy, Artifact Refining, and Technology Academies jointly request a halt to purchases. They say the stockpiles are enough to support a thousand years of consumption. Continuing would likely provoke desperate resistance from the remaining foreign races, doing more harm than good."

Su Mo was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Approved. Tell them to rein in their methods and not push things to the extreme. Also, have the soldiers tighten control over the remaining foreign races and designate special settlement zones. If there's another disturbance, deal with it directly according to city regulations."

"Yes!" Zhang Minghui bowed and withdrew. As he turned away, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had thoroughly figured out this new City Lord's temperament—seeming soft-hearted on the surface, but in truth, decisive and ruthless.

Nightfall washed over Trade City's Skyscrapers, turning their glass facades an ink-blue. Su Bai returned alone to the City Lord Mansion's study, shedding his imposing official robes for a plain linen gown, no different from how he had dressed at Jixia Academy. The study held no excessive luxury—only bookshelves lined with texts brought back from the academy, bamboo slips and paper books side by side. In the corner sat a Light-Shadow Reader gifted by the Technology Academy, the ancient aura of the Primordial World and modern technology blending in a strange harmony, much like the city's very essence.

He sat at his desk, the faint coolness of the jade slip still lingering at his fingertips. His cultivation as a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal let him ignore worldly fatigue, but the knot in his heart wound tighter like creeping vines. His divine sense spread unconsciously again, sweeping over the designated foreign-race settlements—low shacks standing in stark contrast to the surrounding high-rises. The surviving foreign races huddled inside, their eyes full of fear and wariness, all their former clamor gone. He saw a young fox-girl clutching a piece of hard, dry bread, silently weeping. Her gaze was so pure it made his heart clench.

"Survival of the fittest..." Su Mo murmured, tapping his fingers on the desk with a dull thud. He recalled his teacher Feng Luo's teachings at Jixia Academy: "A scholar must have a benevolent heart and walk the righteous path. Even in a turbid world, do not lose your original intention." Yet now, as a City Lord, he had traded the city's peace for the bloodiest of means. Those "goods" that had been purchased—were they not living lives? The white mist rising from the alchemy furnaces, in his eyes, gradually turned into the blood of foreign races, the pungent smell of blood seeming to pierce through time, lingering at the tip of his nose.

He stood and walked to the bookshelf, taking down a copy of the Record of Seeking the Dao personally inscribed by Feng Luo. On the yellowed pages, his teacher's annotations were bold and free: "The Great Dao has three thousand paths, all leading to the same end, but benevolence is the foundation. Without a benevolent heart, even reaching the peak of the Immortal Path leaves one a solitary sovereign." Su Mo's fingers traced the annotations, his eyes growing hot. He knew Zhang Minghui was right—this was the way of survival in Trade City. His actions had indeed protected the safety and interests of the Human Race, even consolidated their fortune. But why did that heavy "correctness" torment him so?

After hesitating for a long time, Su Mo took a green jade slip from his storage ring and infused it with a thread of spiritual power. This was a special communication jade slip from Jixia Academy, capable of directly connecting to his teacher Feng Luo. As spiritual power flowed, the jade slip emitted a soft green glow. He took a deep breath, his voice carrying an undeniable weariness and confusion: "Teacher, your disciple Su Mo now governs Trade City... Recently, to deal with the disturbances caused by the foreign races, I employed bloody methods. Though peace has been restored within the city, my heart remains troubled. I sought the Dao with a benevolent heart, yet I have carried out slaughter. Among those foreign races, there were also the old, the weak, women, and children. Is this survival of the fittest truly the righteous path? Your disciple does not know. Your disciple is confused..."

As his words fell, the jade slip flashed with green light, transmitting his thoughts to distant Jixia Academy. Su Mo held the jade slip in his hand, standing silently by the window, gazing at the heavy night outside. The stone on his heart had not lightened in the slightest. He knew his teacher might give him an answer, but he feared that answer would confirm the unease lurking in his heart—that he had already strayed from his original path, caught between the duties of a City Lord and the conscience of a scholar.

At that moment, in Jixia Academy, located in Luo Shui City where the Human Race's fortune was strongest, spiritual energy swirled thickly, and the halls stood majestic. Feng Luo was sitting with Jiang He in the Dao Discussion Pavilion behind the academy. On the stone table, Enlightenment Tea brewed with Spirit Spring water steamed gently, the rising vapor forming faint Dao patterns. Feng Luo, dressed in white, had the bearing of an immortal—exactly the gentle, refined figure Su Mo remembered. Across from him, Jiang He wore a pale yellow robe, the flame patterns on it flowing subtly with his breath, not a hint of aggression in their glow. Instead, his aura was like still, deep water—inwardly restrained yet holding the power to shake heaven and earth.

Suddenly, the communication jade slip at Feng Luo's waist lit up with green light. He took it down, infused it with spiritual power, and Su Mo's voice came through clearly into the pavilion. Feng Luo's brow furrowed slightly. After listening, he looked at Jiang He and sighed softly. "This child is still too fixated on the word 'benevolence.'"

Jiang He picked up his teacup and took a sip. The tea flowed down his throat, transforming into a stream of clear spiritual energy that circulated through his body. He set down the cup and gazed into the distance, as if piercing through time and space to see the lights and blood of Trade City. "Su Mo is exceptionally talented and pure-hearted. You taught him well, Brother Feng Luo. But he has just taken a high position, and though he possesses the cultivation of a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal, he has yet to truly understand the weight of the word 'protection.'"

"What do you mean by that, Brother Jiang?" Feng Luo asked.

"Trade City is not Jixia Academy, nor is it Tianyuan City," Jiang He said, his voice steady and powerful. "Here, countless races coexist. Survival of the fittest is the very foundation of existence. After the battle between the Sages and the Heavenly Dao, the order of heaven and earth collapsed, and the foreign races were left displaced. Without iron-fisted control, chaos would spread, and the ones who suffer would not only be the Human Race but also those defenseless foreign races. Su Mo's methods may seem cruel, but in truth, he has held the line—he did not exterminate them completely. He designated settlements and left a thread of hope."

Feng Luo pondered for a moment, then nodded. "But he cannot get past that hurdle in his heart. He feels he has betrayed his benevolent heart."

"Benevolence is not the mercy of a foolish woman," Jiang He said, rising to his feet and looking out at the sea of clouds beyond the pavilion. "In the Primordial World, survival has never been a choice—it is a mandatory question. The Human Race's prosperity today was not achieved by benevolence alone, but by decisive ruthlessness and the holding of firm boundaries. Su Bai's distress comes from splitting the scholar's 'benevolence' from the City Lord's 'duty.' He must understand that protecting the safety of the Human Race, allowing this city to endure, and letting more people survive in this chaotic world—that is the greater benevolence."

He paused, then continued, "Trade City, where technology and the laws of the Primordial World coexist, is itself an experiment. I placed him here not just to guard this place, but to temper his Dao heart in this turbid world. His current struggle is precisely the opportunity for his Dao heart to grow. Brother Feng Luo, you might tell him this: the Great Dao is impermanent, but the benevolent heart remains unchanged. Yet those who undertake great deeds must have both the capacity to tolerate and the courage to be ruthless. Hold the line, do not betray your original intention—that is enough."

Feng Luo's eyes lit up with understanding. He picked up the communication jade slip, let spiritual power flow through his fingertips, and spoke softly into it: "Mo'er, your teacher understands your confusion. In the chaotic Primordial World, survival is paramount. Your use of bloody methods was for protection, not slaughter. This is the duty of a City Lord, and there is nothing wrong with it. Benevolence is not indulgence; the bottom line is the foundation. By designating settlements and leaving room, you have held onto your original intention. The path of the Dao heart is full of struggle. Do not force perfection—only seek to have a clear conscience. Remember, what you protect is the Human Race, and also the balance of this city. That is your righteous path at this moment."

In the study of Trade City, the jade slip in Su Mo's hand lit up with green light again. His teacher's voice was gentle and firm, like spring rain nourishing his parched heart. He listened quietly, his tense shoulders gradually relaxing. The heat in his eyes faded, replaced by a sense of release and resolve.

He knew the struggle in his heart might never disappear entirely, but he finally understood that the so-called righteous path was not a rigid doctrine. It was about being in one's position, handling one's duties, holding the line that must be held, and protecting those who must be protected. The survival of the fittest in Trade City could not be changed, but he could be the one to hold the line, to ensure this game of survival did not become too cruel.

Su Mo put away the jade slip and turned back to look out the window at the night. By now, the sky at the horizon was tinged with the pale light of dawn. A new day was about to begin. Trade City's high-rises grew clearer in the morning light, the glow of technology intertwining with the aura of the Primordial World, forming a unique and magnificent tableau. He took a deep breath. The knot in his heart had mostly dissolved, leaving only a heavy sense of responsibility and a clear, sober resolve.