Chapter Seventy-Three: The Jiang Family

Cloud Cliff City had been unusually calm these past few days.

The young master of the Jiang family had been gravely wounded right in the heart of the city, yet the Jiang family—known for their usual arrogance and overbearing ways—had made no move to retaliate. The silence was almost uncanny.

This quiet disappointed those who had been hoping for a spectacle, leaving them feeling rather let down.

As dusk settled, Jiang Chuping stood within the ancestral shrine of the Jiang family, gazing at the plaques commemorating generations of ancestors. There was a subtle complexity in his eyes, indecipherable even to those closest to him. The trusted retainers flanking him did not dare make a sound, holding their breath in the oppressive atmosphere.

The incident at the gate of the City Lord’s residence—where Baili Xi had publicly humiliated three people—had long since reached Jiang Chuping’s ears. Even disregarding the others, the mere presence of that black-clad youth, so young yet formidable, was enough to inspire unease. He was, without doubt, the disciple of some great cultivator from Linghuang. Furthermore, knowing what he did of the self-important scholar Baili Xi, Jiang Chuping was certain those three visitors had even deeper backgrounds.

At present, the head of the family, who had just broken through into the Spirit Wandering Realm, was still in seclusion to consolidate his cultivation. As the eldest son, Jiang Chuping managed all household affairs and understood very well the importance of weighing each situation. After careful consideration, he was willing to swallow this humiliation for now—after all, it was his own kin who had been at fault.

But apart from that single concession, he would not tolerate another inch of retreat.

Yet today, after Baili Xi’s visit, the man had had the audacity to demand the Jiang family’s spot for the Guiyun Immortal Sect’s entrance trials. The sheer insolence was beyond belief. Even though Baili Xi had offered something tempting in exchange, Jiang Chuping refused outright. Baili Xi could not cultivate and had no children; this was clearly for those three outsiders.

To have his son maimed and then to be robbed of the family’s place in the sect’s trials—this was an outrage beyond endurance. Jiang Chuping resolved that he would rather let the quota go to waste than hand it over to those people.

With a cold snort, Jiang Chuping strode out of the ancestral hall, making his way along a winding path. The Jiang residence was vast, and after several twists and turns, he found himself in a secluded corner where, unexpectedly, a verdant jade pool glimmered before him.

What was strange was the multitude of magical treasures and spiritual artifacts suspended above the water, each one different in form—these were the life-bound treasures that generations of Jiang family heads had refined. The aura of these treasures lingered in the air, perfect for honing one’s comprehension of the Dao.

Jiang Chuping was himself a cultivator, though limited by his talent; he had reached only the Golden Core stage. Still, no matter how busy his days, he always spent an hour here each night, focusing his mind in pursuit of enlightenment.

Just then, a gentle-faced youth entered from outside.

Jiang Chuping said coolly, “Your younger brother is gravely injured; you will take his place and go to the Guiyun Immortal Sect this time.”

A flash of joy passed through the boy’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by fear. In a low voice, he said, “My talent is poor—I fear I will bring shame to the Jiang family.”

“When I say go, you go!” Jiang Chuping snapped, impatience written on his face. “No one expects you to accomplish anything. You’ve wasted years practicing the Jiang family’s inherited arts and still haven’t managed to master even the third level.”

The youth’s expression dimmed; he dared not argue. He had never shown any great promise since childhood—unlike his younger brother, Jiang Yuheng, who excelled at both study and cultivation.

Yet he had always loved the pursuit of cultivation, especially after listening on occasion to the head of the family expound on the true meaning of the Dao—his fascination had only deepened.

Jiang Chuping clasped his hands behind his back and said coldly, “Those outsiders want our family’s place in the trials? I’ll be damned if I give it to them! You leave tomorrow—stay there for ten days at the very least, even if it’s only to spite them. Remember that.”

The gentle but fearful youth had heard such words countless times before and felt numb to them. Just as he was about to speak, his face suddenly changed.

He pointed to a distant rooftop, his voice trembling. “Father… look, there’s someone there!”

Jiang Chuping’s head snapped up.

A slender figure stood quietly atop the blue-tiled roof.

Jiang Chuping’s gaze grew steely. “Who goes there?” he demanded icily.

The figure paid him no heed, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the pool before him.

As Jiang Chuping’s patience snapped and he was about to act, the stranger spoke. “I want your family’s place in the Guiyun Immortal Sect’s trials.”

Jiang Chuping’s mind whirled, and in an instant he understood who stood before him. He sneered, “You injure my son and now seek to rob my family’s opportunity? You have some nerve.”

“If I had acted, he would be dead,” Shen Yu replied calmly. “Are you unwilling?”

Jiang Chuping narrowed his eyes. “I am unwilling.”

Shen Yu turned to look at him, his voice flat. “Then die.”

“Careful you don’t bite your own tongue!” Jiang Chuping roared.

At once, a violet bell-shaped artifact burst from the water, its urgent ringing streaking toward Shen Yu. Jiang Chuping’s right hand moved rapidly in intricate patterns, pouring his will into the treasure he had long cultivated beneath the pool, driving it to its utmost.

This man was far too arrogant; Jiang Chuping longed to kill him on the spot.

But Shen Yu did not even glance at the weapon. With a light wave of his sleeve, a simple bracelet floated before him. A faint breeze stirred, and the bell, for all its momentum, was effortlessly drawn into the bracelet, vanishing without resistance.

Jiang Chuping felt the connection with his treasure sever in an instant; his face changed dramatically.

Still unwilling to concede, he cried, “Rise!”

All the spiritual treasures at the bottom of the pool began to tremble and slowly rose into the air.

As the second son of the Jiang family, Jiang Chuping had long cultivated here and was attuned to the spirit of the place; thus, he could command these treasures.

“Struggling, are you? Allow me to help.”

After a moment, Shen Yu said, “Rise.”

At his word, more than a hundred magical treasures soared into the sky above the courtyard in a dazzling display of spiritual light.

Jiang Chuping stared, scalp prickling, body trembling uncontrollably.

For all the auras of these treasures were now locked onto him. At a single word from Shen Yu, he would be obliterated in an instant.

Such mastery over magical implements was unheard of—even the family head, now in the Spirit Wandering Realm, could not compare.

Shen Yu spoke coldly, “You have three breaths.”

Jiang Chuping’s face shifted through a dozen emotions. Deep down, he knew that one moment’s hesitation would mean death.

Yet if he gave up the quota so easily, what face would he have as heir to the family?

Shen Yu began to count softly, “One…”

“Who are you, to humiliate us so?” Jiang Chuping roared.

The youth, fists clenched, stepped defensively in front of him.

“Jiang Lan, get out of the way!” Jiang Chuping bellowed.

Shen Yu regarded him with a blank expression, glancing once at the boy.

Immediately, the youth felt as if a mountain pressed down on him, crushing his slender body, draining what little spiritual power he had and leaving him gasping for breath. An unprecedented terror seized him, and though every instinct screamed at him to run, he stood his ground and faced the oppressive force head-on.

Jiang Chuping’s will to fight was utterly broken. He pleaded, “Senior, please, spare him. I’ll agree to anything.”

“No!” cried the boy—who, in his life, had never disobeyed his father. Even as the weight threatened to break him, he gritted his teeth and forced out, “This cannot be!”

Shen Yu asked quietly, “Why not?”

The youth raised his fists, voice clear and strong. “Because the family head once said: for those of us who walk the path of cultivation, our realm may be low and our skills weak, but in battle, so long as our spirit remains, we must press forward and never retreat or admit defeat!”

Jiang Chuping’s pupils contracted. For the first time, he seemed to truly see his eldest son, whom he had always dismissed as hopeless.

For some reason, as soon as the frail youth finished speaking, a surge of will rose within him and the crushing pressure vanished like smoke.

Shen Yu laughed. “Your family head may lack real ability, but his boasts are certainly grand.”

“Do not insult the family head!” the boy retorted, his anger flaring as he summoned his fledgling elemental arts and charged at Shen Yu.

Shen Yu’s expression remained unruffled.

Just then, a cheerful, elderly voice sounded.

“You brat, the man is sparing you; with your meager cultivation, you really think you could fight?”