The morning after the grand announcement, news of the Crimson Clan's new heir swept across the cultivation world like a wildfire.
One month later, the gates of the Crimson Clan manor swung wide open to welcome an extraordinary gathering. Renowned sects and powerful clans from all over converged upon the estate. Some factions sent their most revered grand elders, while several clan leaders and sect masters chose to attend in person.
"This is exactly how the cultivation world works," one of the guards stationed at the entrance of the Grand Gathering Hall murmured to his companion. "Power draws a crowd."
Inside, cultivators who knew one another gathered in small circles, their conversations filled with intense ambition. Some spoke with absolute confidence, boasting that the newborn would inevitably become their prize disciple. Others discussed how they could exploit this celebration to secure a blood alliance with the Crimson Clan, which stood undisputedly as one of the apex powers within the Mamaya Spirit Region.
As the hall buzzed with excitement, three figures slipped past the guards. They were completely shrouded in pitch-black robes, radiating an ominous aura. The leader was an intimidating elder with a long, flowing beard and piercing purple eyes. A faint, misty purple Qi rolled off his skin—a trait shared by the two silent disciples flanking him.
So, this is the main manor of the Crimson Clan, the two disciples thought, keeping their heads bowed.
Ever since leaving the hidden mountain gates of their dark sect, they had never seen architecture quite so opulent. Towering vermilion pillars were carved with remarkably detailed, coiling dragons, and glowing spirit lamps floated gracefully through the air like captive stars.
The elder's purple eyes swept over the luxurious hall with unhidden disdain. "Remember," he whispered to his companions, his voice barely a breath. "We did not cross three entire domains just to beg for a simple alliance. By any means necessary, that Crimson Clan child will belong to our Netherworld Sect."
As they proceeded deeper into the manor, a quiet murmur caught the elder's attention. Near a curtained alcove where wine was being prepared for the banquet, a couple of young maids were whispering frantically to each other.
"Do you know the absolute truth about the Young Master?" one maid hissed.
The elder's eyes narrowed. What are these maids gossiping about? he thought, his sinister instincts flaring. Something is fishy. For servants to speak of their young master in such hushed, secretive tones means there is a hidden skeleton in the closet. I cannot let this chance slip away.
Turning to his subordinates, the elder muttered, "Go on ahead. I have a minor matter to attend to."
"Understood," they murmured, blending seamlessly into the growing crowd.
The elder watched as another maid walked out of the preparation room carrying an ornate wine vessel. Moving with phantom speed, he extended a thread of his Qi, cleanly snatching a spiritual wine gourd from a nearby tray without making a sound. He took a swift sip, acting perfectly casual, and subtly slipped into the shadow of the preparation pantry just as the door swung closed.
Stepping inside, he was amazed to find the walls and tables completely stacked with priceless spiritual wine. But he didn't care about the alcohol. As a powerhouse at the Late Qi Condensation Realm, his physical senses were profoundly enhanced; he could easily eavesdrop on a conversation within a fifteen-meter radius without a soul detecting his presence. He leaned back against the wall and listened intently to the maids who were still gossiping nearby.
"They discovered that his spirit root is completely unknown!" the first maid whispered urgently.
"Really?" the second maid gasped, her eyes wide. "Are you sure?"
"Yes! I am the closest attending maid to the Madam herself," the first one boasted, nodding righteously. "I heard the alchemist say it couldn't be measured against any elemental record."
The second maid let out a sharp breath. "Ah... then that means the Young Master is actually useless? A piece of trash?"
Behind the racks of wine, a silent, boiling anger erupted within the Netherworld elder. What?! An unknown spirit root? Meaning he's completely useless?! He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. How dare they! I traveled across three domains, spending precious time and resources, only to find out this highly anticipated genius is a dud?!
But as his fury peaked, a twisted, devious thought suddenly crossed his mind. The anger faded, replaced by a slow, sinister smile creeping beneath his beard. Hehehe... wait. This is actually perfect. If the clan is hiding his worthlessness, I can use this to my absolute advantage.
Minutes later, the grand doors at the head of the hall swung open. Wang Yun and Madam Xinyi emerged from the inner sanctuary. Wrapped in luxurious crimson silk embroidered with magnificent golden dragon patterns, the infant Wang Fang rested peacefully in his mother's arms.
The moment the Patriarch and his wife appeared, the bustling, chaotic hall instantly fell into a reverent silence.
"Clan Leader Wang, congratulations!"
One by one, the distinguished guests stepped forward, eager to show their respect and offer priceless gifts.
An esteemed elder from the Azure Cloud Sect stepped up first, presenting a beautifully carved jade box. "Inside is a three-hundred-year-old Spirit Ginseng. May the young master grow healthy, strong, and lead your clan to further glory!"
Directly behind him, a burly clan leader from the Iron Mountain Clan laughed heartily, presenting a heavy weapon that gleamed with a dangerous edge. "A Mortal-Grade Peak spear! A small token for the future genius of the Crimson Clan!"
As the minutes ticked by, the mountain of treasures piled higher and higher in the center of the hall. Spirit herbs, glittering spirit stones, ancient cultivation manuals, and incredibly rare ores filled the tables. Even a few legendary Earth-Grade artifacts appeared among the offerings, drawing gasps from the lower-ranking guests. Wang Yun maintained a polite, composed smile, nodding respectfully to each guest as his attendants accepted the tributes.
Naturally, it didn't take long for the true intentions of the guests to surface.
"Haha! Clan Leader Wang!" a voice boomed from the crowd. "The moment the child reaches ten years of age, send him straight to our Heavenly River Sect. We shall personally cultivate him into an unstoppable force!"
"Nonsense!" another sect leader shouted back, stepping forward. "Our Nine Peaks Sect is clearly the superior choice for a boy of his lineage!"
"Hmph. The Crimson Clan should look beyond these local sects and consider a permanent blood alliance with my Golden Tiger Clan instead," a powerful warrior from an outer territory interjected. "Our resources are unmatched."
The atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly competitive and lively. Suddenly, an elderly clan leader stroked his long white beard, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"Brother Wang, I happen to have a beautiful granddaughter who is only one year younger than Young Master Wang Fang. Why don't we finalize a formal marriage agreement today?"
The hall practically exploded with reactions.
"A marriage alliance already?! Wait, I have a granddaughter as well!"
"My daughter was born with a Heavenly Spirit Root of the third-grade water element!"
A collective shock rippled through the crowd at that statement. A Heavenly Spirit Root meant her future talent was destined to be absolutely boundless.
The proud father continued, "She would make an excellent, unparalleled match for your boy!"
Wang Yun raised a hand, laughing softly to diffuse the tension. "Perhaps we should discuss these matters after the children grow a bit older, my friends. Hahaha."
Near the perimeter of the room, a couple of junior guards watched the spectacle, whispering quietly among themselves.
"Man, do you think the young master will really go that far in life?" the newer guard asked, staring at the piles of treasure.
The older guard chuckled under his breath. "You really don't get it, do you? Oh, I forgot, you're brand new here. Listen, the Crimson Clan has stood at the apex for millennia. Every single leader of this lineage has been a monstrously powerful being. In fact, every single past Patriarch has successfully ascended to the Upper Realm!"
The young guard's eyes went wide.
"Think about it," the veteran continued. "Countless brilliant cultivators attempt to ascend every century, only to be completely obliterated by the heavenly tribulation. Yet the Crimson Clan's bloodline passes through it successfully every time. Can you even begin to comprehend how terrifyingly pure their bloodline must be?"
While the joyful negotiations and praise continued to echo throughout the grand hall, the purple-eyed elder of the Netherworld Sect stood silently at the absolute edge of the room, watching the entire display with icy, mocking eyes.
Fools, he thought, staring at the laughing sect masters. All of you are desperately competing over a child with an unknown spirit root.
A deeply sinister smile curled beneath his beard. Slowly, he channeled his energy, releasing a razor-thin, incredibly focused strand of spiritual voice transmission. The invisible thread of sound cut cleanly through the noisy hall, bypassing every master in the room, and entered Wang Yun's ear alone.
The Patriarch's polite smile instantly froze on his face.
The old man's raspy, mocking voice echoed with absolute clarity inside Wang Yun's mind.
"Clan Leader Wang... I know the dark little secret you are hiding about that child."
At the back of the hall, the purple-eyed elder raised his wine gourd, giving the Patriarch a faint, terrifying look.
"And I believe it would be in your best interest if the two of us had a very private conversation.