I'm Already the Richest Man, Why Did My System Just Arrive?

The 32nd year of the Zun’an Era.

The twenty-fifth day of the Twelfth Moon.

The lazy sunlight struggled to drive away the biting winter chill.

To celebrate the new year, every household had hung lanterns by their doors.

Wide-eyed children in new clothes ran gleefully through the streets and alleys.

Recently, many had noticed a strange atmosphere brewing in the city.

First, in the teahouses and elegant pavilions, the Storytellers who usually recounted tales of blades and shadows in the Jianghu had gradually shifted their subject to the story of General Zheng Haoran. "Slaying a Barbarian Chieftain with Three Thousand Men!" "General Zheng’s Heroic Crossing of the Fenjian River to Save the Emperor!" "General Zheng’s Valiant Battle Against Ten Thousand Barbarians!" "The Song of the Vast Righteous Qi Shattering the Barbarians’ Lines for a Thousand Leagues!" The patrons cheered wildly, as if seeing the loyal and heroic soul of yesteryear reborn in the Storyteller’s tales.

Heaven on Earth had reopened.

In nights past, patrons would arrive full of lust and other intentions.

But when they stepped inside, what fluttered in the air were not the suggestive silk ribbons and colorful slippers of before. Instead, there were crimson battle flags, each emblazoned with the character "Zheng" in a bold, soaring script.

The decor had also been changed to sets of battered battle armor.

"Signal smoke rises, we gaze north at our lands,"

"The dragon flag unfurls, horses neigh, Sword Qi is like frost,"

"My heart is as vast and turbulent as the Yellow River’s waters,"

"For twenty years I roamed, who could stand against me,"

"My hatred drives me to madness, wherever my long saber points,"

"How many loyal brothers’ souls are buried in foreign lands..."

The stirring music of pipes, strings, and percussion, combined with Lily’s enchanting voice, made every patron who stepped into Heaven on Earth feel as if they had come to the wrong place. In the blink of an eye, they seemed to be on a battlefield ten thousand leagues away, feeling the presence of General Zheng, who was buried in a foreign land twenty years ago. The horns of the Northern Divine Martial Army seemed to echo from the rafters.

During a performance of "Loyalty to the Nation," when the generation’s greatest Singing Girl, Lily, and the chorus reached the line, "The horse’s hooves go south, the people gaze north," a crowd of Scholars and poets burst into tears. They wept inconsolably, feeling a mixture of shame and fervent passion.

For a time, no one in the Imperial City went whoring. Instead, they flocked to Heaven on Earth for no other reason than to hear one uplifting, passionate performance of "Loyalty to the Nation."

On the streets, Actors performed lifelike operas, reenacting the scene where General Zheng tearfully bid farewell to the Imperial City, took up his spear, and marched north to bravely shatter the Barbarian Army.

One by one, anecdotes once forgotten by the world and heroic elegies faded in an era of peace were remembered and recalled once more.

Unconsciously, within a few short days, the entire city was once again extolling Zheng Haoran’s tragic heroism and singing of the deep bond between him and the Great Emperor.

One Storyteller tearfully chanted, "General Zheng, oh, General Zheng! Your birth in Daqian was a blessing from Heaven!"

It was as if overnight, Zheng Haoran, dead for twenty years, had been reborn on the lips of the common people to march north and wage his second war!

And with any discussion of Zheng Haoran, one could not avoid his only son, Zheng Xiu.

A certain narrative began to quietly take root among the populace.

How many roads had Zheng Xiu built over the years?

How much silver had he donated?

How many disaster victims had he aided?

How many common people had he comforted?

How many people had he helped settle down and put down roots here?

How many once-destitute families now had halls full of children and grandchildren because of him?

In this era of peace, the Zheng Clan’s military spirit was gone. Zheng Xiu had not joined the army or served as an official. Yet, the people discovered that the Zheng Clan’s influence, Zheng Haoran’s proud and unyielding spirit, had not vanished because of it!

"That Master Zheng has such a good heart. My old man smashed his hand working in the smithy, and the Master, without a second thought, brought over a chest of silver and told my old man to rest up properly."

"Princess Yu Run? Heh! I refuse to believe that Master Zheng would kill someone! The Zheng family has been loyal to Daqian for generations. The Zheng family has never produced a villain!"

"You know, that Master Zheng looks just like General Zheng. He has Old Zheng’s bones and the Zheng family’s blood in his veins. I watched young Master Zheng grow up; he has a kind heart."

Chef He from the Fragrant Pavilion brandished his new knife and scoffed at the onlookers, "Master Zheng, a murderer? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard! Last year, I, Old He, had to go to Master Zheng’s estate to kill his chickens and ducks for him because he said he doesn’t like the sight of blood. Master Zheng even felt bad for me, Old He, and gave me a hundred taels of silver without a word! If anyone dares say Master Zheng isn’t a good man, I’ll chop them to death with one swing of this knife!"

The twenty-ninth day of the Twelfth Moon.

The sun sank in the west, painting the horizon red as if stained with a layer of blood.

A thick, endless layer of clouds pressed down on the Imperial City. Goose-feather snow began to fall, obscuring half the sky.

’In any era, public opinion is a terrifying force, because it represents the ’will of the people’! I merely lit a few sparks, and in the blink of an eye, the name Zheng Haoran has become a wildfire, melting away this harsh winter snow!’

Though Zheng Xiu was in Heaven-Gazing Prison and had not gone out among the people, he could still feel the entire city’s atmosphere undergoing a silent, subtle transformation under the influence of his Zheng Clan retainers.

’Dad, oh, Dad. I really have to hand it to you this time. Even in death, you can still mysteriously protect the Zheng Family.’ Zheng Xiu murmured, unsure if he was feeling emotional or envious of his deceased father. ’How could I bear to discard this golden, ancestral signboard? How could I bear to let your loyal soul be disgraced?’

’This unfilial son can’t bring you back to life, but at the very least, I can make the people remember your name once more, here and now!’

’I will make them remember that you earned a share of the credit for this prosperous and peaceful era!’

’If I don’t act arrogantly for once, I’m afraid you’ll all forget that the proud blood of the Zheng Clan flows in my, Zheng Xiu’s, veins!’

He closed his eyes and entered the Heart Prison.

Zheng Xiu sat on the Bone Chair. On the Game Table before him, three small Incarnations sat with their eyes shut.

The child had a lotus blooming between his brows. His features were innocent, yet they concealed a sinister aura.

The Mighty Man was tall and formidable, with a faint illusion of green mountains and clear waters behind him. Amidst his power, there was a hint of agile grace and handsome charm.

The third Incarnation was an old man with snow-white hair and a matching beard. He wore a snow-white Daoist robe, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked like an immortal from beyond this world, inscrutable and profound.

Zheng Xiu first moved his finger toward the old man, but he hesitated at the last moment.

’Perhaps it’s not time to play my trump card yet.’

In the end, the Mighty Painter opened his eyes. A vortex formed deep within the Post Station [Feng Bei’s home], and a black door opened and closed. Zheng Shan stepped through it.

A solitary peak, sheer cliffs, a barren summit.

Clouds and mist swirled about, making the mountaintop look as if it were covered by a white mat.

In the center of this "mat," Feng Bei was, as always, adding firewood to a bonfire, waiting quietly.

The snow was heavy tonight, and Xiaofeng, with its frail body, couldn’t endure the cold. It had long since curled up in a makeshift cat bed to keep warm.

Inside the cabin, steam rose faintly from a wooden bucket, and a fire blazed in the stove, a corner of its warmth specially reserved for the cat.

A shrill bird cry broke the silence. Feng Bei stood up, preparing to welcome the youth.

A flowing shadow like a blade, a single ink-black wing, tore through the curtain of snow. A tall, formidable man slowly landed on the roof.

Feng Bei was stunned, frozen in place like a statue.

This time, Zheng Xiu was using his "Zheng Shan" Incarnation.

To Feng Bei, Zheng Shan was a figure who had lived twenty years ago.

But for Zheng Xiu, only a short month had passed since Zheng Shan and Feng Bei last parted.

The magic of traveling through time and space, the mysteries of the Ghostly Realm—who could possibly explain them?

Zheng Xiu saw Feng Bei’s reaction. It was just as he’d expected. He folded his single wing, extended his fangs slightly, and smiled. "Where’s my son?"

Feng Bei just stood there, dumbfounded, as if her soul had been snatched away.

She only shook her head slowly after Zheng Xiu asked a second time.

"My son said I could find him here. That little brat!" Zheng Xiu cursed himself in the tone of an old father, explaining, "I never expected that upon my son’s birth, he would encounter an old acquaintance from twenty years ago."

Feng Bei continued to stare foolishly at Zheng Shan on the roof, speechless. Her mouth was slightly agape, her hair whipping wildly in the wind.

’Why is Feng Bei’s reaction a little strange?’

Zheng Xiu had originally thought Feng Bei would be moved to tears, exclaiming how her benefactor had remained eternally youthful and asking where he had been all these years.

He had even prepared a speech to explain why his Appearance hadn’t changed in twenty years.

’Looks like... I won’t be needing it?’

"Ahem. Since that little brat isn’t here yet, let’s just say I made a special trip to see you."

Zheng Xiu cleared his throat twice. Looking at the dazed Feng Bei, he got to the point. "Twenty years ago, I rescued you from that perilous situation. It was on a whim; I sought nothing in return. But now, there is a matter I must ask you to handle for me. My foolish son is insensible and incompetent. If I leave this to him, I’m afraid he’ll ruin everything."

Feng Bei, still wearing the same expression, nodded blankly.

"Do you know Zheng Xiu, the Richest Person in the Imperial City?"

Feng Bei’s eyes never left "Zheng Shan" for a moment. She nodded again.

Zheng Xiu laughed heartily. "Then this will be simple! I ask you to escort the orphan of my sworn brother tomorrow morning! You only need to escort him from Heaven-Gazing Prison to the Zheng Family estate! Are you willing?"

Feng Bei lowered her head, her thoughts unreadable, then said softly, "Feng Bei is willing."

"Then, thank you! From this day forward, you and I owe each other nothing!"

With that said, Zheng Xiu hurriedly leaped off the mountain, preparing to make his escape.

"Senior, wait!"

In an instant, a terrifying wind pressure blasted the falling snow back up into the sky. Feng Bei’s right hand made a grasping motion, and the markings around her right eye spread across her entire body. The shadow behind her rose like a towering mountain.

"Senior, wait! Senior, wait!"

Feng Bei gripped an illusory long saber and had just swung it halfway when she forced herself to a halt.

’Holy crap!’ Feeling the terrifying pressure from behind, a Ghostly Realm so dense it was almost tangible, Zheng Xiu was so scared he immediately canceled his [Divine Travel]. He vanished before Feng Bei’s eyes in a wisp of green smoke.

Only then did he realize something. Feng Bei didn’t just use her ultimate move when she was angry; she couldn’t help but use it when she was emotionally agitated, too!

The way "Zheng Shan" disappeared was identical to how he had vanished twenty years ago. The only difference was that today, Zheng Shan was fully clothed.

Watching the empty space where Zheng Shan had disappeared, the snow that had been blown high into the sky began to fall again. Everything returned to calm.

Feng Bei stood there in a daze.

After an unknown amount of time, the youth flew up to the summit from below, scratching his head.

"Uh... my dad left?"

Hearing his voice, Feng Bei whipped her head around, her left eye staring indifferently at the innocent-looking youth.

The sudden silence was the most terrifying thing.

GULP.

’Feng Bei’s gaze is weird.’

’There’s no way she found out, right?’

’Feng Bei isn’t the type to ponder over things.’

Sure enough, Feng Bei let out a long sigh. "So, Senior Zheng Shan is still alive."

"Of course! Would I lie to you about my dad being alive?"

"Then let’s begin."

Feng Bei smiled, cracking her knuckles. CRACK, CRACK. She walked toward Zheng Xiu step by step.

Today’s Feng Bei seemed particularly happy.

She was exceptionally energetic from the very beginning.

And when she got energetic, Zheng Xiu’s Experience Level for his various Skills shot up wildly.

CRASH.

The bonfire extinguished itself without a breeze, leaving only a few scattered embers.

’The idea was good.’

But Zheng Xiu felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine.

He had a premonition that tonight’s Feng Bei...

...would be a little bit fierce.