At this mont, within the heart of the Imperial Capital, the ancestral estate of the Shen Clan stood as a sprawling fortress of white jade and ancient power.
Deep within the inner sanctum, where the spiritual energy was so dense it manifested as a silver mist, the air was heavy with the weight of centuries of rule.
A woman of breathtaking and terrifying beauty sat upon a dragon-phoenix throne, her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like a river of molten sunlight, contrasting sharply with the pristine white robe she wore, which was embroidered with subtle, shimring golden accents that traced the path of an ancient phoenix.
She sat with a casual, yet supre grace, her cheek resting against her fist while her elbow was braced upon the throne’s dragon-head armrest.
This was Chu Xueyu, the current Clan Head of the Shen Clan and the mother of Shen Haoran.
Beside her, standing like silent statues of shadow, were two beautiful won clad in black, skintight bodysuits that seed to drink in the surrounding light.
They moved with a synchronized, rhythmic precision, as they fanned Xueyu with plus of celestial feathers plucked from a celestial phoenix.
A close inspection of their steady breathing and the way the space slightly distorted around them revealed a staggering truth that will surely shock many powers.
These two "servants" actually possessed the cultivation of Profound Saints!
In the outskirts of Central Region, they would be worshipped as goddesses of war, but here, they were re attendants.
In the center of the hall, seven old n stood in a semi-circle, their hair and beards were as white as mountain snow, but their eyes burned with the vitality of youth.
The collective aura of these seven was suffocating, with each of them actually possessing the cultivation of Heavenly Saint Realm at the 9th Stage, the absolute apex of the realm, just a hair’s breadth away from touching the laws of the Supre Emperor.
"So? To what do I owe the pleasure?" Xueyu asked her voice soft and gentle, yet sounding so incredibly bored as she didn’t even bother to shift her posture. "It is rare for all seven elders of the Grand Enshrined Hall to gather at the sa ti. Usually, you are too busy counting your ancestor’s bones or arguing over the distribution of spirit stones."
The First Elder, a man whose presence felt like a compressed supernova, took a solemn step forward. "Clan Head, we, the Seven Elders of the Grand Enshrined Hall, formally request the comncent of a Heaven’s Choice Tournant."
The air in the room seed to chill.
A Heaven’s Choice Tournant was no re sparring match, it was a brutal, free-for-all combat ritual held by the Great Clans to determine who among the younger generation was the true "Heaven’s Chosen"—the definitive heir to the clan’s legacy and resources.
But...
Xueyu’s brow furrowed slightly. "Haoran is already the designated heir of the Shen Clan. I have already decreed it, so there is no need for such primitive displays."
"Clan Head, tis change! There are more talented people in our clan who have erged in the past two years while the young master was away!" The second elder argued, his voice raspy but firm.
The third elder stepped forward, "That’s right! Dod you know, a youth from a branch family has awakened the Ancient Sacred Physique! He is only twenty-seven and has already reached the peak of the Golden Core realm! His foundation is so solid it resonates with the sound of the heaven and earth!"
"That’s right!" The fourth elder chid in, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "One of my own descendants has recently received the direct bloodline inheritance of the Eastern Sea Emperor! The very emperor who suppressed every genius of his era in the last epoch! His potential is limitless!"
"Your son might be talented, Clan Head, but the world does not stand still," the First Elder added. "I do not think he alone can continue to suppress the rising geniuses of the clan now. So if he is truly the heir, he must prove he can still stand above them all."
Xueyu stared at them, her golden eyes half-lidded, reflecting a terrifying lack of interest.
She waited for the echoes of their voices to die down before asking a single, flat question.
"...Are you done?"
"You—!" The elders flushed with embarrassnt and burgeoning rage.
The first elder frowned, "Clan Head! You should mind your position! You know well that your authority was granted to you by this Hall! If we believe you are abusing your power to suppress the true geniuses of our clan just to favor your son, then we have the right to strip you of your position!"
The hierarchy of the Shen Clan was a delicate balance of terror and tradition.
Although the Clan Head seems to hold all the power of the clan, that isn’t the case at all.
Standing far above them all, in the silent, resting within the depths and most secluded part of the clan, is the Supre Hall, where the Old Monsters at the Supre Emperor Realm slept in stasis, waiting for the day the Immortal Path would reopen.
Below them is Grand Enshrined Hall, with its mbers all at the peak of Heavenly Saint Realm, and acting as the ultimate advisory body and the only check on the Clan Head’s influence.
Below them sat the Elder Hall, where every mber was at least a Heavenly Saint, managing the countless subordinate realms and vassal sects that served the Shen na.
Xueyu’s gaze remained fixed on the First Elder, her silence was heavier than any shout, and once again, asked the sa question.
"...Again," she whispered, "are you done?"
The Elders glared at her, their Qi beginning to flare, causing the jade floor to groan under the pressure.
But as they t her golden eyes, they saw sothing that made their hearts stutter—a depth of absolute coldness that seems to freeze their soul.
At that, one by one, they lowered their heads.
"...Yes," the First Elder muttered.
Xueyu nodded slowly as she stood up.
She didn’t use her hands to push herself up; she simply rose like a fla and walked down the white jade steps, her robes whispering against the stone, until she stood directly in front of the First Elder.
She was shorter than him, but she seed to tower over the entire hall.
"Respected elders," Xueyu began, her voice deceptively soft. "It is indeed the truth that my position was given to by you. But do you rember why it was given to and not to one of you? And do you know why, for the last hundred years, I have remained firmly as the head despite your constant scheming?"
The First Elder remained silent.
His throat felt tight, after all, in truth, he knew the answer, no, not just him, but the entire clan knew the answer—but he simply dared not speak it aloud.
Xueyu reached out and placed a delicate, slender hand on his shoulder. "It is because I am strong. Stronger than anyone. And for the past century, there has never been a single soul in this Imperial Capital that was stronger than I."
She didn’t strike him, instead, she simply pressed her hand down.
In that instant, the First Elder felt as though the heavens themselves had collapsed onto his spine.
His internal organs shivered, and his protective Qi shattered like glass as he struggled to remain standing, his face turning a violent shade of purple as blood began to seep from his eyes, ears, and nose.
He tried, no he was forcing himself to remain still despite his bones creaking and popping, desperately trying to resist the physical manifestation of her Will.
But it was futile.
And as he was slowly being forced down, the realization hit him with the force of a thunderbolt.
He was at the peak of the Heavenly Saint Realm because he had reached his limit and could no longer advance, but Chu Xueyu, however, was at the peak of the Heavenly Saint Realm because she chose not to advance.
She didn’t advance because of so profound reason, but simply because once she reached Supre Emperor realm, those old fogies from Supre Hall would force her to give up all her powers and stay in the Supre Hall, never being able to see her son once again.
That’s why, despite possessing the qualifications to advance, she never did.
Because of that, the quality of their Qi, their understanding of the Great Dao, and the foundations of their souls were simply on different planes of existence.
With a sickening thud, the First Elder’s knees hit the jade floor.
His face turning red in pain and embarrassnt as for the first ti in his life, he was forced to kneel.
Xueyu turned her gaze toward the other six elders, and one by one, they averted their eyes and bowed their heads even lower, their previous arrogance evaporating like mist.
"It seems I have been a bit too kind lately," Xueyu said, her voice echoing through the silent pavilion. "You people seem to have forgotten who truly holds the power in this clan. You’ve seem to have grown fat on peace and deluded by the minor talents of your descendants."
She withdrew her hand from the First Elder’s shoulder and raised it to the side.
One of the black-clad servants imdiately stepped forward, took out a clean, wet silk cloth, and began to wipe Xueyu’s hand with obsessive care—as if the re act of touching the elder had dirtied her skin.
Once done, Xueyu returned to her throne and sat back down, the bored expression returning to her face.
"However," she murmured, "that tournant does sound interesting. It has been a while since the Imperial Capital had so proper entertainnt. Very well. I will allow it. Call upon all the so-called ’geniuses’ in the clan. I want to see their so-called sacred physiques and their emperor bloodlines."
She leaned her head back against the throne, a cold, sharp smile touching her lips.
"My Haoran is returning soon. He will need so stepping stones to remind the world why the main line is the main line. Let them provide him with a bit of sport before he enters the Academy. The tournant will begin once he finished a mission I gave him."
The Seven Elders trembled, but they bowed in unison. "As you command, Clan Head."
As they retreated from the hall, the First Elder wiped the blood from his face, his eyes burning with a mix of sha and a dark, lingering hope.
He still believed in the Ancient Sacred Physique of that boy from the branch family.
He still believed that perhaps, just perhaps, a new era was beginning—one that even Chu Xueyu and her son couldn’t suppress.
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