With the end of winter, I returned to Hanzhong alongside Asena and Midnight Blue. We immediately began preparing for our expedition to Lingnan and Zhuya Island. Jin Shan volunteered to guide us. While the Jade Couple wanted to join, but I ordered them to remain and guard the Xia Xing Men. The Caravan Merchant Guild had already successfully established our own silk production in Chengdu. So, Aykuz who was interested in the herbs, poisons and shamans of the local tribes, received my permission to start her research projects from there.
The Xia Xing Men were worried about my safety and wanted to send more members with me, but that's truly unnecessary, and I don't want them to lose valuable personnel at a time like this. So, I just picked two Iron Guards to act as hired bodyguards, while our real bodyguard, Midnight Blue is already disguised as a wolf-pet. However, I needed someone to look after Asena, a woman would be perfect and make us less noticeable and it seems like the right time to let Michelle explore the outside world.
I already prepared the stabilizing machine for my Divine Realm by using dual basketball-sized Golden Cores to create a Spiritual Supercomputer with twelve A.P.P.L.E sub-units to support it. This Realm Stabilizer is connected to my realm to receive data, calculate and stabilize the realm. I also created a permanent connection, similar to my energetic network, between Michelle and the Stabilizer, so she can perceive and control the Realm from outside. I developed it from the Link Syntax between Mining Robots and the Control Module, and named it "Sky-Link." Normally, my network connects me to my family, creations or subordinates like a pyramid but they are not directly linked together. With this Syntax, I can create a unit that has any type of network model.
We traveled on horseback with Jin Shan as our guide. Wei Ming, a relative of Wei Hu, rode lead while Shi Xiong rode at our rear. We aimed for Jiangzhou in the Ba region and took a different road from Aykuz, who took the southwestern road to Shu. We disguised ourselves as a family of merchant from the Guild and used their documents to leave the city.
The change in the landscape was immediate. Soon after leaving Hanzhong, the rough track twisted upward into the mountains. Just as the sun bled orange over the peaks, the terrain became impossible, forcing us onto the infamous Gallery Roads, wooden planks anchored to the sheer cliff face above a terrifying gorge.
"The air is changing." Asena murmured. The light was pale green now, filtered through a dense canopy of unfamiliar broadleaf trees, a stark contrast to the sparse pines of the high peaks near Hanzhong.
Michelle, who ride beside her, provided the immediate analysis, her voice a calm hum over the rattling of the wheels. "The elevation is rapidly decreasing. We are passing into the warmer, humid climate of the Ba region. Atmospheric pressure is stabilizing, and the average fungal spore density has increased. This humidity supports the unique endemic flora, Lady Asena."
Indeed, the world outside was transforming. We were moving from the arid north toward the deep biological richness of the south. The mountains here weren't sharp and grey, but rounded and enveloped in vegetation, a world built of deep soil and relentless rain.
I looked out at the road. It was less carved stone and more tamped mud, slick and treacherous. Massive ferns dripped water, and parasitic vines strangled the trees. This was a land of constant, vibrant growth, the kind of untamed energy that would make Aykuz, on her separate southwestern road toward Shu, happy.
Wei Ming shouted the first warning as we approached the suspended path: "Master, we have company! Mountain folk up ahead!"
I glanced ahead. Three silhouetted figures of local tribesmen, moving with unnatural ease, watched our every step.
"Dismount! We walk until they pass," I stated, looking at these tribesmen.
They are from the one of the tribes that the Chinese included under the collective term, the Hundred Yue or Baiyue. It seems Huaxia people used the term Yue to describe many tribes south of them. The original neighboring Yue Kingdom during the Spring and Autumn period was clearly not Huaxia people. Its successor states like Ouyue, Minyue and Nanyue, would all be annexed by Han Dynasty at some point in time.
These people tattooed their skin to honor the Great Serpent, had shorter hairstyles, and blackened their teeth. Some built their houses on stilts and hung their coffins on cliffs. They are basically ancestors of Thai people, it's likely to be some tribes within the Dianyue of Dian Kingdom but I can't pinpoint exactly which tribes. It's still pretty far from the time when they will split into many peoples in the Tai-Kadai group, such as the Zhuang, Tai, Lao, and modern Thai.
While they slowly walked past us, I thought about some interesting theories regarding the name Baiyue. One suggestion is that the character Bai might not be the word that means "Hundred" but the one that means "White." Many tribes here cultivate rice and taro in wet fields, and the word for "White" or "Albino" in their language is also mean "Taro."
If you using Old Chinese, Baiyue would become "Prak-Wat," just as Nanyue would become "Num-Wat" in Old Chinese and evolving into "Nam-Viet" in Vietnamese. The sound Prak is quite close to Puh-rek in Old Yue or even in Modern Thai. Actually, the name "Lac Viet" might also be the same term with Prak-Wat too. Unfortunately, we cannot know for sure because I didn't transfer here earlier.
All I know is, the Yue developed in Middle and Lower Yangtze area before they were pushed further south again and again by Huaxia people. Some may have immigrated to Taiwan and mixed with Austronesians there, or mixed with Austronesians, Austroasiatic and Mmong-Mien as they moved south. Meanwhile, some later immigrated further west to Yunnan and eventually Southeast Asia. That's my theory.
However at the time, the Nanyue had already been conquered and was being ruled by Qin generals not long before, and Zhao Tuo would establish it into a Kingdom within a matter of time. We needed to contact and buy off his local officers while we still could, or even place our men inside their government. But Panyu, the future capital of Nanyue, was not included in our journey, as our final destination was Zhuya Island.
Not long after that encounter with the tribesmen, the terrain began to soften, the dizzying slopes of the mountains finally easing into the wider valley floor. We were descending from the rugged peaks toward a plain.
Bazhong was less a Chinese city and more a sprawling, fortified settlement built at a crucial juncture of the mountain passes and the river trade routes. It was a zone of transition, and the atmosphere was thick with the culture of the Ba tribe of former Ba Kingdom—the dominant, indigenous Yue group of the region.
The Ba are one of the powerful tribes who populated these high mountains and river valleys. As one of the ancestors of the Tai-Kadai linguistic groups, their culture was distinct. They were fiercely independent mountain folk who tattooed their skin, kept their hair short, and also adhered to the unique custom of blackening their teeth as a mark of maturity. Individuals with their distinct tattoos moved through the crowded lanes, their local Ba dialect mixing with the Old Chinese of the northern Han settlers.
Their houses reflected their environment: while some Han-style buildings lined the main road, many structures, especially those near the water's edge and up the nearby slopes, were stilted houses built on wooden posts to avoid dampness and floods.
We soon met with the members of the Han River Guild who were waiting for us, so I used my power to keep our horses secure inside my Divine Realm. The Guild had secured a few houses on the outskirts of the town. We spent the night at a local inn, finally able to fully relax after the stress of the mountain journey. The brief rest gave us a chance to review the situation in Hanzhong before we committed fully to the river route.
The food they served us here was quite unique. With their salt mines, many local and northern fermented, pickled, and preserved products were present in their dishes. Rice, wheat, and soybean were mixed with local taro and millet. A river fish dish was seasoned with Sichuan pepper, ginger, garlic, and some fermented soy sauce.
The next morning, the guild members led us down to the riverbank, where only a few sleek, shallow-draft boats were moored. They were perfect for navigating the winding tributaries before reaching the main river. We boarded the largest one, the small craft immediately feeling little crowded. The boatmen, stout and familiar with the currents, immediately pushed off. The sound of their poles scraping the muddy bottom soon gave way to the steady rush of the current, marking the next stage of our journey toward Jiangzhou.
Initially, the river was intimate and wild. The mighty Micang Mountains, whose treacherous slopes we had just traversed, still loomed directly overhead, their flanks thickly forested. The waterway was narrow, the water often shallow and clear enough to reveal the rounded stones of the riverbed. Here, the current was less a surge and more a persistent guiding hand, pulling us through sinuous turns that revealed one towering cliff face after another.
On the banks, sparse signs of human habitation clung to the steep inclines, small terraced rice paddies like green steps, and clusters of stilted houses belonging to the Ba people. These indigenous settlements, with their distinctive wooden posts raising them above the damp earth, were tucked into sheltered coves or perched precariously on ledges. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth, pine, and distant wood smoke, punctuated only by the cries of unseen birds and the soft dip of the boatmen's poles. The wilderness felt vast and indifferent, a stark reminder of the lands the Han now sought to claim.
As the hours passed, the tributary gradually widened, swallowing smaller streams and growing in speed and power. The mountains, though still imposing, began to recede slightly, allowing for broader vistas. The river's current deepened, giving way to swirling eddies and the occasional stretch of swift, choppy water that required the boatmen's full attention.
Asena and Michelle, who acts as my wife, seem quite interested in this scenery, it's like an adventure for them. With the Sky-Link to the Realm Stabilizer, Michelle can now live-render these scenery details directly into my Divine Realm from here. Even though she has some similar powers to mine inside my territory, she doesn't possess any special or unique power outside of it. She is a normal, energy-based Great Spirit just like Seraph, but she seems to have better control and can materialize her body all the time. In fact, she has been good at this from the very beginning. This might be the reason she wants to have an energy-based creature as her companion.
With the broadening waters came more signs of the encroaching Han influence. We passed a series of rudimentary lookout posts, Qin-era garrisons now claimed by Liu Bang's nascent authority. These were stark, fortified structures, their watchtowers jutting against the skyline, reminding us of the strategic importance of this waterway. Occasional ferry docks, crude but functional, marked the points where mountain trails intersected the river, allowing for a trickle of two-way traffic.
River traffic slowly increased. We began to spot other vessels, flat-bottomed barges laden with coarse salt from the Ba mines or logs felled from the mountain forests, slowly drifting eastward. Every so often, the more organized silhouette of a Han military supply boat, propelled by stern oarsmen, would churn its way laboriously upstream, a stark reminder of the ongoing Chu-Han Contention.
The final approach to Jiangzhou was a dramatic transformation. The Jialing River, which had been our guide, swelled to an immense width, its waters turbulent and brown with the silt of a thousand upstream journeys. It was here that it met the even vaster, more powerful Yangtze River, a confluence so grand it seemed to command the entire landscape. The sheer scale of the Yangtze was overwhelming, a majestic, roiling artery of the continent, carrying immense volumes of water from the far west toward the eastern sea.
And then, rising abruptly from the dramatic confluence point, built directly onto the steep, formidable hillsides overlooking both rivers, was Jiangzhou. It was less a city spread out on a plain and more a fortress carved from the earth itself, a major Han military and administrative center, controlling the entire upper river system. The wilderness was utterly gone, replaced by the bustling intensity of the Huaxia frontier. The air vibrated with the sounds of a major port, the shouts of merchants, the rhythmic clang of blacksmiths, the distant blare of military bugles, and the organized chaos of commercial and logistical operations. It was a strategic prize, a linchpin in Liu Bang's emerging empire, and our gateway to the wider world.