The morning sun hit Sector 01 gently. The automated turrets were powered down to "Standby," the conveyor belts were humming softly, and for the first time in weeks, no one was trying to blow up the mountain.
It was a Tuesday. A boring, wonderful Tuesday.
In the newly constructed Rehabilitation Garden—a serene courtyard filled with flat, smooth paths and waist-high parallel bars—two women were sweating.
"Again," Gu Ling commanded.
Princess Zhao Ling gritted her teeth. She was strapped into a prototype Exo-Frame—a set of mechanical braces locked onto her paralyzed legs. It wasn't the floating pod. This was harder. This was about gravity.
"My arms..." Zhao Ling gasped, her triceps trembling as she held herself up on the parallel bars. "They're burning."
"Good," Gu Ling sat nearby in her wheelchair, holding a stopwatch. "Your legs don't work, Your Highness. That means your arms are now your legs. If they burn, it means you're getting stronger."
The Princess glared at her, sweat dripping down her nose. "You make a terrible cheerleader."
"I am an engineer, not a pom-pom girl. Push."
Zhao Ling groaned and engaged the hydraulic assist. The braces whirred, forcing her paralyzed knees to straighten. She swung her body forward, dragging the weight of the metal and her own dead limbs.
Step. Clank. Drag. Step.
She moved three feet. It was exhausting. It was ugly.
She collapsed, letting the harness catch her.
"I hate this," she whispered, hanging there, staring at her unfeeling toes. "I look like a puppet."
Gu Ling put the stopwatch down.
She didn't offer pity. Instead, she reached down and unlocked the brakes on her own wheelchair.
"Watch."
Gu Ling wheeled herself to the parallel bars. She locked her brakes. Then, with a grunt of effort, she hoisted herself out of the chair.
Her silver robes fluttered as she pulled her body up. Her legs dangled, completely limp, just like the Princess's.
Gu Ling didn't use an exo-frame. She used pure upper body strength and momentum. She swung her hips, using her torso to fling her legs forward.
Swing. Catch. Swing. Catch.
It wasn't walking. It was a rhythmic, gymnastic display of defiance against gravity.
She moved ten feet, then lowered herself back into her chair with a heavy thump. She was panting, her hair sticking to her forehead.
"It never looks normal," Gu Ling said, wiping her face with a towel. "And it never stops being heavy. But you stop looking like a puppet when you are the one pulling the strings."
The Princess watched her. She saw the steel in Gu Ling's eyes—the years of struggle that had forged the Iron Queen.
"Ten feet," the Princess murmured. "You did ten feet."
"It took me two years to get that far," Gu Ling took a sip of water. "You did three feet on your first day. The machinery helps."
The Princess looked at her metal braces. She wiped the sweat from her eyes.
"Reset the clock," Zhao Ling said fiercely. "I want to do four feet."
Gu Ling smiled. "That's the spirit. Again."
THE KITCHEN ALCHEMY
Inside the Main Hall, the air smelled delicious.
Su Qing was in the kitchen. She wasn't making poisons or explosives today. She was making soup.
"Ginseng," she whispered, her fingers dancing over the roots on the counter. "River Lotus. And... a pinch of Star-Anise."
She didn't need to see the pot. She could hear the bubbles. Bloop-bloop. That sound meant the viscosity was perfect.
"You are chopping too loud," Su Qing noted without turning around.
At the other counter, Yun Xi was massacring a pile of vegetables. She was using a high-grade combat dagger.
CHOP-CHOP-CHOP.
"I am imagining these carrots are General Boru's fingers," Yun Xi muttered, slicing a radish so thin it was transparent.
"You have a lot of repressed aggression, Yun Xi."
"I have expressed aggression," Yun Xi corrected, sweeping the vegetables into a bowl. "It's different."
Yun Xi paused, looking out the window at the garden where the Princess and Gu Ling were training.
"Do you think she'll stay?" Yun Xi asked quietly. "The Princess? After the war is over?"
Su Qing tasted the soup. It was warm and healing.
"She smells like us now," Su Qing said simply. "She smells like machine oil and stubbornness. I don't think she can go back to smelling like perfume and lies."
Yun Xi wiped her knife. "Good. I'm getting used to towing her around. She's lighter than a bag of rice."
THE WAR ROOM (OF PAPERWORK)
In the Command Office, the battle was silent, but deadly.
Jiang Fan sat behind a desk buried under mountains of scrolls, ledgers, and receipts.
"Boss Pang," Jiang Fan rubbed his temples. "Why is there a receipt for 'Emotional Support Goldfish'?"
Boss Pang, who was sorting coins into towers, looked up nervously.
"That was for the disciples, Supreme Elder! The siege was stressful! The fish helped morale!"
Jiang Fan sighed. He picked up another scroll.
"And this? 'Premium Cloud-Silk Pillow Stuffing'?"
"That... was for you, sir."
"Approved," Jiang Fan stamped it immediately.
He leaned back, the chair creaking. Being a Sect Master—even a fake one—was exhausting. The 0% tax trade route meant raw materials were flooding in, but it also meant invoices. Thousands of them.
"This is inefficient," Jiang Fan complained. "I am spending my nap time doing math. This is a tragedy."
He opened his inventory.
"System. Do we have a solution for bureaucracy?"
[ System Query: Finance Management. ] [ Item Found: The Golden Abacus of greed. ] [ Cost: 10,000 Gold. ] [ Effect: Automates balancing sheets. Warning: The item has a personality and is very stingy. ]
"Buy it," Jiang Fan said instantly.
A flash of light, and a golden abacus appeared on the desk. It had tiny arms and legs.
It looked at the pile of receipts.
"Disgusting!" the Abacus shrieked in a tinny voice. "Look at these margins! Who approved the goldfish?! Denied!"
The Abacus began frantically clicking its beads, stamping "REJECTED" or "FILED" on scrolls at lightning speed.
Jiang Fan watched it work for five seconds.
"Boss Pang," Jiang Fan said, standing up.
"Yes, Supreme Elder?"
"This calculator is now the Chief Financial Officer. I'm going to lunch."
"But sir! It's rejecting my expense reports!"
"Take it up with the beads, Pang."
THE FAMILY MEAL
An hour later, they gathered at a round table in the courtyard.
It was a strange family.
There was Jiang Fan, the lazy leader, lazily feeding a piece of chicken to Snack (who was floating upside down). There was Gu Ling, sitting in her wheelchair, smelling of oil and sweat. There was Yun Xi, the maid who could bench press a carriage, serving soup with terrifying precision. There was Su Qing, the blind alchemist, identifying every ingredient in the bowl by smell alone. And there was Princess Zhao Ling, sitting in her floating Lotus Pod, looking exhausted but eating with a ravenous appetite.
"How was the gym?" Jiang Fan asked, stealing a dumpling from Gu Ling's plate.
"Brutal," The Princess admitted, her hands shaking slightly as she held her spoon. "Gu Ling is a tyrant."
"Results require discipline," Gu Ling said, slapping Jiang Fan's hand away from her dumplings. "Get your own."
"But yours taste better," Jiang Fan whined.
"They are literally from the same pot," Yun Xi pointed out.
"It's the thrill of theft," Jiang Fan explained.
He looked at the Princess. Her face was flushed from exertion. She wasn't wearing her royal armor or her perfect makeup. She looked messy. She looked real.
"You did good today," Jiang Fan said softly.
The table went quiet.
"I saw you from the window," Jiang Fan continued, leaning back. "Four feet. That's a personal best."
The Princess froze. She looked down at her soup, hiding a smile that threatened to split her face.
"I fell at the end," she mumbled.
"Falling is part of it," Jiang Fan shrugged. "If you don't fall, you aren't trying hard enough. Just make sure you don't dent the floor. Yun Xi just polished it."
"I will bill you for damages," Yun Xi added, pouring more tea.
The Princess laughed. It was a light, happy sound.
The wind blew through the Sect. The construction noise was gone. The enemies were gone (for now).
Jiang Fan closed his eyes, listening to the clinking of spoons and the banter of his team.
"System," he thought. "Status report."
[ Status: Peaceful. ] [ Party Mood: Content. ] [ Threat Level: 0. ]
"Nice," Jiang Fan whispered.
He put his head down on the table, using his arm as a pillow.
"Wake me up for dinner."
"He's sleeping already?" The Princess whispered.
"Just let him be," Gu Ling smiled, covering him with a spare robe. "He did the math. He earned a nap."