Volume One: Another World Chapter Twenty-Two: The Uniqueness of the Thunderblood Lineage

From a distance, Li Yu saw a black line appear on the horizon. As they drew nearer, the “black line” not only grew larger but also became more defined and substantial. Li Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing on the city that loomed larger and larger in his sight.

High walls stretched all around, unbroken and extending to the very edge of his vision. Several wide gates stood open, streams of people flowing together, which from his vantage looked like a dense, winding black ribbon.

“So this is Qingshan Commandery City?” Li Yu was a little astonished. “What kind of population flow must it have?”

And this was only a few of the gates—there were several more such places within his view. He doubted any city on Blue Star could compare.

“You’ll have plenty of time to see it in the future,” Qing Heng said, and after soaring over the city walls with Li Yu, they flew for quite some time before finally reaching their destination. The two landed on a plaza.

“Then I must take a good look,” Li Yu replied with a smile.

“That’s best. The wonders of Qingshan Commandery are beyond count,” Qing Heng said.

More than a dozen people were already waiting in the square, men and women, young and old. After news of the thunder bloodline reached the hunting grounds, these people had been ordered to wait here, ready to test its authenticity.

An elderly man with a beard that swept the ground stepped forward, holding a jet-black stone in his hand. At Qing Heng’s signal, his withered fingers gripped Li Yu’s arm.

“I hope it truly is the thunder bloodline,” Qing Heng thought to himself as he stood aside.

The old man, frail as if at death’s door, moved with lightning speed. Li Yu didn’t avoid him—nor could he have—and in the blink of an eye, the old man’s withered palm touched him, sending a continuous stream of warm energy into his body.

“That’s rather comfortable,” Li Yu mused. The dormant power within him was being drawn out. Having experienced this once before in Stone Village, he focused intently this time.

The energy flowing in was not aimless; it coursed along his veins, finally surging into his heart. Li Yu felt his heart pound powerfully as the force of thunder awakened, roaring through him and ultimately bursting forth.

The onlookers squinted, watching as arcs of electricity danced across the youth’s body.

“It really is the thunder bloodline!” A gleam lit Qing Heng’s eyes. The phenomenon was exactly as described in the records.

The others in the plaza observed carefully as well; they had their own tasks, other things to verify.

Li Yu opened his eyes, thunder still crackling around him until the warmth in his body was spent and the lightning finally faded.

Hearing Qing Heng’s exclamation, Li Yu curled his lip—could anything produced by the system possibly be false? Still, it was obvious that after this test, the Commandery Lord’s attitude had completely changed.

“What are you all standing there for?” Qing Heng said to several dumbfounded women. “Come deal with his injuries!”

The waiting women snapped out of their daze, quickly approaching with medical supplies.

“It’s nothing, really,” Li Yu protested.

But the women ignored him, tending to every wound he’d suffered in the mountains with great care. Clearly, the medicines they used were no ordinary kind; there was no stinging, only a cool sensation, and in moments, the less serious wounds had already grown new skin.

“With this stuff, Blue Star’s best medicine would go bankrupt,” Li Yu thought, dumbfounded.

Soon, the enthusiastic Qing Heng led Li Yu to a lakeside pavilion with a beautiful view. Several maids awaited them, the table and tea service already prepared.

“How do you like this tea?” Qing Heng raised his cup. “There’s only ten catties a year, and apart from what’s presented as tribute, no more than five taels remain in the residence.”

“It’s excellent,” said Li Yu, who usually drank only plain water. His eyes lit up as he sipped, “The buds are tender, the veins green, as if emerald leaves are dancing. Each leaf lies at the bottom, and the fragrance lingers, the taste is unforgettable.”

Qing Heng raised an eyebrow. Such poetic praise was not something an ordinary family could foster, but the way Li Yu drank the tea pained his heart as a tea lover.

“A fitting description,” Qing Heng said after a pause. “What do you think of the environment here?”

“It’s wonderful.”

Li Yu wasn’t flattering. Besides the pavilion connected to the shore by a long corridor, there were intricately carved wooden houses along the lake’s edge, and further out, a ring of lush forest. If he hadn’t seen the commandery city upon entering, he might have thought this place nestled deep in the mountains, for he had never seen a more perfect ancient scene.

“If you were offered residence here, would you accept? After all, Stone Village is gone,” Qing Heng said, playing with his teacup, a sly smile on his lips.

Li Yu thought, “Here it comes, the real question.”

But knowing Qing Heng wouldn’t rush him for an answer, Li Yu took his time. He needed to analyze many things.

And indeed, Qing Heng was in no hurry, even personally refilling Li Yu’s cup.

Li Yu didn’t know how large a commandery was, but after witnessing the scale of the city, he understood the weight of the title “Commandery Lord”—the ruler of an entire region.

For such a man to idle away time with him, Li Yu realized the thunder bloodline must have value beyond cultivation. Otherwise, why would the army shout “Heaven bless Qingshan Commandery”?

If there wasn’t some hidden agenda here, Li Yu wouldn’t believe it for a second.

After pondering for a while, Li Yu realized he’d been considering the wrong question. With such a display, how could the Commandery Lord possibly let him leave? What he really ought to be considering was: if he stayed, what could he do?

That was what Qing Heng wanted him to think about.

“Of course I’m willing. What harm could come to me living here?” Li Yu said. “I don’t know why I lost my memory and ended up in Stone Village. If it’s possible, I’d like your help investigating my origins—and I hope you can provide me with cultivation methods.”

His words were straightforward. Qing Heng paused, then laughed heartily, “That’s no problem. Settle in for a few days; thunder-based techniques will take some time to gather.”

…

Leaning against the window, Li Yu gazed at the lake. This was his second day in the waterside pavilion. Every night, he’d wait until the maids fell asleep and then quietly return to Blue Star for a brief visit.

Partly, this was to show his face and ease Huang Xiu’s worries, and to check in with the system. He was also wary of the maids assigned by the Commandery Lord—any fool could see their main purpose was to observe and monitor him.

Li Yu was well aware of his dubious origins, and with Mu Yinhua still alive, any lies would land him in the dungeon by morning. So he took the initiative to confess whatever he could, hoping to reduce Qing Heng’s suspicion.

Of course, mixing truth with falsehood is the best way to avoid detection. He only claimed amnesia—no matter how the Qings parsed it, they’d find nothing.

“Young master, here are the books you requested.”

“Bring them to me,” Li Yu replied with a smile, not having shut the door on purpose—living so “transparently” would surely ease any wariness.

With his life nearly broadcast live, what was there not to trust?

“Very well.” The maid in green entered quietly.

There were two maids: one favored green and was called Little Jade; the other preferred red and was called Little Red—easy names to remember, impossible to forget.

“Thank you, Little Jade,” Li Yu said, accepting the books. Though forbidden to leave the Qings’ estate, everything else was open to him, so he stayed in his lakeside residence, reading whatever the maids brought.

The Empire’s Golden Age.

Li Yu examined the third book he’d received today. As the pages turned, a vast and magnificent empire unfolded before him. Combined with his recent readings, he’d already pieced together the world’s history.

The earliest clearly recorded nation was Qin, an empire whose territory encompassed all lands inhabited by humans, divided into thirty-six commanderies. Later, disaster and demonic calamity destroyed the empire, splitting it into three kingdoms and two houses.

The Ming, where the Qings now dwelled, occupied twelve of the original commanderies, making it the largest nation.

“The Qings control all of Qingshan Commandery,” Li Yu closed the book, reading at lightning speed. “Qin left behind six Imperial Armaments—five for metal, wood, water, fire, and earth… The final one must be thunder.”

The texts were vague, but Li Yu found it easy to guess.

If the thunder bloodline was the key to controlling the Imperial Armament, it was easy to deduce: the Qings kept him because he was vital—a nuclear bomb one wouldn’t give away, nor leave unused. Their current reserve must mean they were still investigating him.

With their own army and absolute rule, the Qings were veritable feudal lords. Wasn’t this supposed to be a fantasy world? When did it become a stage for dynastic power struggles?

Li Yu frowned, then quickly relaxed. Life-and-death struggles in another world had little to do with him. He’d come here to explore and unwind. If things truly got out of hand, he could always escape back to Blue Star.

Just yesterday, a squad of guards brought in Lin Sanjin alive, and Mu Yinhua personally executed the villain responsible for the massacre.

As Li Yu had expected, a dossier now lay on Qing Heng’s desk—a report from secret agents, investigating him in detail.