Inside a dim-lit hall surrounded by golden drapes and towering incense pillars, the Four Great Families gathered once more. At the center of the chamber, tension crackled like lightning trapped in still air.
Li Feiyang slammed his palm on the table. "You saw it yourself! He didn't just defeat Junyu—he killed him! With a single strike! This... this brat should never have been given a month!"
The other heirs murmured in angry agreement, their eyes burning with fear disguised as rage.
But the one sitting across from them didn't flinch. Dressed in black robes embroidered with ink-like dragons, Wei Wuxian swirled a cup of tea in his hand, his gaze lazy yet piercing.
Then, he chuckled.
"If giving him one month was a mistake…" he said, rising from his seat with deliberate calm, "what about you fools granting him a week?"
Li Feiyang's mouth opened, but no words came.
Wei Wuxian didn't wait for a reply. His eyes turned toward the window as if the winds themselves whispered answers only he could hear.
"That brat… he might just be the pressure I need to ascend into Golden Core."
He turned and walked out of the hall, his robe trailing behind like the wake of a falling star.
Behind him, the heirs of the Four Families sat in stunned silence. One muttered under his breath, "He's treating this like a training session… for him."
---
At the villa, a different kind of silence reigned.
Sheng Lian stepped through the entrance, her boots making no sound on the polished stone floor. The early morning sun cast soft rays on the inner courtyard as she called out, "Su Yao."
The maid emerged quickly and bowed. "Senior Sheng Lian."
"Where's Ren Wei?" Sheng Lian asked, already narrowing her eyes toward the cultivation chamber.
Before Su Yao could answer, a ripple of dense Qi pulsed through the villa — rich, heavy, like molten steel wrapped in silk.
"Again… cultivation, huh?" Sheng Lian smirked.
Su Yao smiled gently. "Yes. He began after returning yesterday. Said it will last a full week."
Sheng Lian exhaled slowly and turned back toward the gate. "Fine. Let him be. I'll see him in a week…"
She paused, eyes lingering briefly on the sky, then left without another word.
---
Inside the cultivation chamber, time itself seemed to hold its breath.
Ren Wei sat cross-legged on a simple stone platform. Candles burned low in the corners, their flames swaying without wind, as if pulled toward the gravity of his growing power. The room was circular, its walls etched with faint runes that pulsed in rhythm with his breath. The air was thick — not just with Qi, but with intent. Heavy. Purposeful.
Echo Fang rested beside him, humming faintly like a beast in slumber. Around Ren Wei, threads of spiritual energy coiled through the room like serpents, drawn into his body with each inhale. His skin glowed faintly from within, as if his blood had turned to molten gold.
Then—
A subtle shift.
His spine straightened. The Iron Blood Meditation technique reached a new threshold. Inside his meridians, a stream snapped open. Power surged, but he didn't flinch. He simply endured it, shaping it, refining it like steel folded a hundred times.
A moment passed, and a strange vision flickered behind his closed eyes — a field of ash, swords planted in the earth like gravestones, and a silhouette of a man who looked just like him… but older, crueler, crowned in flame.
He opened his eyes. The chamber returned.
Silence reigned again.
---
The grand gates of the Lian Sect parted with a low rumble as Sheng Lian stepped through. Her robes were travel-worn, but her stride was unshaken. Disciples paused in their training, whispering as she passed. The prodigy had returned.
She walked straight into the main pavilion, where her father — Lian Xuanyan, Sect Master of the Lian Sect — stood overlooking a scroll of strategic formations.
He turned at the sound of her approach, eyes sharpening.
Sheng Lian bowed slightly, then… laughed.
"So, tell me, Father… do you still think I chose the wrong one?"
Lian Xuanyan blinked — then bellowed a laugh that shook the scrolls from the table.
"Wrong one?" he said, stepping forward. "You speak as if I ever doubted your choice! Ahahaha!"
With a gesture, he summoned a glowing orb from the ceiling. Within it, light swirled, sharpening into the memory of a duel — the moment when Ren Wei stood before Li Junyu. The strike. The silence. The fear.
They watched it again. Slowly. Without speaking.
When it ended, the orb dimmed. The room grew still.
Lian Xuanyan turned his head, eyes narrowing.
"That final strike… tell me honestly. Could you defend it?"
Sheng Lian didn't look away. "You saw it yourself. Even a Golden Core realm expert flinched to protect himself from that strike. What could I do?"
Another silence.
Then Lian Xuanyan laughed again, this time quieter, almost proud.
"Good. Very good. That brat…" He turned back toward the orb. "He owes us a debt."