Chapter 128: The Title Was Eaten

Chapter 128: The Title Was Taken

When the catfish refuses to stir, the water grows calm; but when the catfish sinks to the bottom, other fish above stir up the surface.

After handling these matters, Li Hongshen began to emit an air of resignation. His days were spent either leading his people in training or strolling through Hong City to observe their conditions.

Aside from encouraging population growth, Li Hongshen started to employ his innate Data Law within his domain to establish a trading system, introducing his own currency, the Hong Point.

Since the Data Law already permeated the territory and had previously been linked to the residents, he merely gamified their profiles. Using the Data Law, he built a server inside the domain and issued digital currency, bypassing the need for traditional paper money.

This system was evolved directly from the law by Li Hongshen himself and could only be used by Hong residents. Externally, he allowed limited currency exchange for visiting tourists to enjoy services and sightseeing.

Beyond the built-in trading system, after years of patient waiting, Li Hongshen finally acquired enough Data Laws from the system to enable chat boxes on the profiles, allowing communication among residents through the data network.

Yet, at its core, this remained a simple application of rules. Fully digitizing physical objects or data transmission was still a distant dream, and advanced technologies like digital souls or data reassembly machines were nothing but shadows on the horizon.

Fortunately, this functionality already brought Li Hongshen considerable benefits. In an era when communication relied on shouting and messages required running, his innovation was revolutionary, providing immense advantages.

Aside from these developments, Li Hongshen could only venture out yearly to seek resource-rich floating islands or go hunting, honing his people's resilience and maintaining their combat readiness.

Once all was quiet, Li Hongshen understood why he had previously stirred such turbulence. Beyond some genuine interests and outside provocations, the main cause was the boredom of lords at this stage, who sought excitement to entertain their spirits.

This realization left Li Hongshen feeling that he had been the fool all along. Whether in conflict or alliance, it was those idle nobles who deliberately troubled him out of sheer boredom.

Most lords who entered the Inner Domain no longer faced natural disasters that could challenge them, and territorial management had mostly become routine.

Even the most irresponsible lords often acted as figureheads, delegating governance to administrative teams while focusing solely on maintaining military strength.

Especially among the Elite Society's lords, this phase was even more tedious compared to student lords still scrambling for resources and striving to absorb more spiritual energy laws to enhance their domains.

Members of the Elite Society, with their established strength and talent, could leisurely gain sufficient spiritual energy through passive means without burning source points for acceleration.

For those slightly behind, their families provided ample resources and source points, freeing them from worries and allowing focused development.

This resulted in the Elite Society's atmosphere resembling stagnant water—marked by loneliness, endurance of emptiness, and the monotony of life.

After all, even the most ardent drinkers tire of alcohol; the finest palates grow bored of cuisine after centuries; and the most passionate players have sampled every beauty at every club over the years.

Hence, the overwhelming boredom...

Whether senior members of the Elite Society felt this monotony, Li Hongshen did not know; for now, he remained relatively composed.

His domain offered abundant projects for development and many avenues for reform.

When his population reached two hundred thousand, he instituted nine years of compulsory education, combining literary and martial training so graduates could typically become competent warriors.

Then came a three-year mandatory military service, where they trained alongside the full-time army and engaged in real battles, experiencing harsh frontier life firsthand.

Afterward, they could choose to become ordinary citizens, work as technicians in city factories, or pass selection exams to enter military academies as professional soldiers.

Alternatively, they could join administrative ranks, starting as grassroots operatives and gradually rising through the hierarchy.

Of course, Li Hongshen also faced some troubling issues—for instance, the first natural death in his domain occurred. The deceased was known to Li Hongshen as Li Gang, an elder who had accompanied him since the Lord’s Trial.

Li Gang was among the third group of warriors but remained at first-level warrior status until death, having lost a hand and a leg during the tribe’s migration to the Ten-Thousand-Mile Mountains.

Later, after the domain acquired an energy core, his disabilities prevented further advancement. When Li Hongshen offered second- and third-level blood crystals for his promotion, Li Gang declined, wishing to reserve resources for others.

Before passing, he smiled softly, clutching a broken military blade—the symbol of his honor and dearest companion.

Surrounded by a beast pack, with his spear shattered, he survived by slashing three ferocious beasts with that blade until his comrades arrived.

In the years following Li Gang’s farewell, other elders who had suffered devastating setbacks and failed to advance gradually passed away. Each departure weighed heavily on Li Hongshen’s heart.

These veterans, who had followed him since the Lord’s Trial, were etched in his memory—their names, his teachings to them during the Trial, their faces, and the unwavering trust in their eyes until death.

He knew he had to steel himself; separation and death were inevitable for a lord and must be accepted. He was powerless to prevent such losses, and more would surely come.

Yet, despite this resolve, he felt sorrow and a deep melancholy. Watching these comrades depart one by one stirred complex emotions—guilt, sadness, and grief.

But time would not bend to his will. No matter his pain, he could not return to the past nor revive the fallen.

All he could do was erect a wall of honor to commemorate those who had fought alongside him. Together, they had witnessed the endless frontier’s edges, admired the Ten-Thousand-Mile Mountains’ vistas, endured the million-mile plains’ trials, and ultimately experienced the wonders of the Inner Domain. Their loyalty and sacrifices would not be in vain.

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(End of chapter)