The main hall of the Ye family felt more oppressive than anywhere else at this moment.
The afternoon sunlight should have been warm, but as it passed through the tall threshold and fell to the ground, only a few mottled patches of light remained.
In the air floated tiny motes of dust, mingling with a heavy atmosphere called “oppression.”
At the seat of honor sat Ye Nantian, the head of the Ye family, his knuckles tapping rhythmically on the rosewood armrest beside him—a sound that seemed to strike directly at everyone’s heart.
Opposite him was Ye Tianjiao, lost and despairing.
Once hailed as the greatest genius of Qingyang City, now he resembled a Fallen Grass battered by frost, his eyes empty and fixed on the floor.
The end of the Crisis brought not glory, but unprecedented regret.
Xiao Liuli, the one he once regarded as a disgrace and cast aside with his own hands, now shone bright as the full moon, her radiance dazzling even the elders of the Qingyun Holy Land who had come in person for her sake.
As for himself, Ye Tianjiao, he was not even qualified to be a bystander at that grand feast.
The words spoken by the Qingyun Holy Land envoy two years ago—”Impetuous in nature, unfit for greatness”—now echoed in his ears like a demonic chant.
“Father…”
Ye Tianjiao’s voice was dry and hoarse, tinged with a hint of pleading.
“Is there truly… no way?”
Ye Nantian did not look at him, his gaze deep as he stared outside the hall.
Two years ago, he had recommended his son Ye Tianjiao to an outer sect steward of the Qingyun Holy Land.
But after only a few simple tests, the other party shook his head and drew a conclusion: this child had mediocre talent, a frivolous temperament, and was unfit for great things.
Hearing this description, Ye Nantian did not dare to be angry.
Although he was at the Golden Core stage and stronger than the outer sect steward, the other’s status could not be ignored.
Even a dog must look to its master—if he dared to offend, would the Ye family even survive?
In the eyes of the Qingyun Holy Land, the Ye family was nothing but an ant, easily crushed.
After a moment, the sound of tapping stopped.
“There may still be a way.”
He spoke slowly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“One month from now is the marriage of Ye Chen and Xiao Liuli.”
Ye Tianjiao’s head snapped up, a twisted flame igniting in his eyes.
He understood his father’s meaning: as long as Ye Chen was not the lead of that marriage, there was still a chance.
“But… will the Xiao family agree? And Ye Chen…”
“Hmph.”
Ye Nantian snorted coldly, a mix of contempt and irritation in his tone.
“A collateral disciple, insignificant. The family has raised him for so many years; it’s time for him to make a ‘contribution’ to our future.”
He paused, his tone growing cold.
“Someone, bring Ye Chen here.”
—
When Ye Chen entered the main hall, the oppressive atmosphere made it difficult to breathe.
He walked steadily, expression calm, sunlight casting a long shadow behind him.
“Patriarch, what do you require of me?”
He spoke calmly, his gaze sweeping over Ye Nantian seated above and the increasingly labored breathing of Ye Tianjiao at the side.
Ye Nantian picked up the teacup at his hand, but did not drink, merely used the lid to gently skim the floating tea leaves—a motion done slowly.
“Ye Chen,”
He finally spoke, his voice steady.
“You are a son of the Ye family. You should know that the interests of the clan come before all else. Now, there is an opportunity concerning the family’s future that requires you to make a small sacrifice.”
Ye Chen’s eyes remained clear as ever, but the corners of his mouth seemed to lift slightly in a subtle arc.
He could already guess what they wanted to say.
“Oh?”
“The Xiao family marriage. Relinquish it.”
Ye Nantian set down the teacup with a light sound, speaking each word with deliberation.
“Tianjiao is more suitable than you. This is for the future of the Ye family—you should put the greater good first.”
He looked down at Ye Chen, as if declaring the order of a patriarch.
The hall fell into a brief silence.
Only the whistling of the wind through the corridor and Ye Tianjiao’s increasingly ragged breathing could be heard.
“Heh.”
A light laugh abruptly shattered the stillness.
Ye Chen smiled, gazing at the two before him as if watching a farcical play.
“How amusing.”
His voice reached every ear in the hall.
“In the beginning, you said Ye Tianjiao was unfit to appear, so you had this ‘collateral disciple’ take his place. Now that someone has risen to glory, you feel this ‘collateral disciple’ is unworthy?”
He tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“An object is used when needed and discarded when not, like an old shoe. Now that you find this ‘old shoe’ has gained some shine, you want to snatch it back… The patriarch’s ways are truly… unique.”
“Insolence!”
Ye Nantian’s facial muscles twitched violently, humiliation rushing to his head.
He slammed his hand onto the armrest.
“Ye Chen! What kind of attitude is this? Do you think I’m negotiating with you? This is an order!”
“For the family! Do you not even have this much awareness?”
“Family?”
The smile on Ye Chen’s lips deepened—and grew colder.
“Your family, or mine?”
“Avoided like the plague in times of decline, sought after in times of prosperity. Such grand words. In the end, isn’t it just seeking profit and currying favor?”
These words, though light, instantly tore apart the last shred of dignity from the father and son.
“You… You court death!”
Ye Tianjiao could endure no more.
Each sentence was a slap to his face, exposing his pride and shame in the open.
Humiliation and fury consumed his reason.
With a low roar, spiritual power at the peak of the Qi Refinement stage exploded, and his fist, wrapped in raging force, crashed toward Ye Chen’s face!
The punch was both fast and vicious.
Yet Ye Chen stood still.
He didn’t even glance at the approaching fist, simply gazed calmly at Ye Tianjiao’s twisted face, a hint of… pity in his eyes.
Just as the fist was about to reach his clothes.
A slender, cold figure appeared in front of Ye Chen without warning.
She moved like a streak of light—a fair, delicate hand reaching out effortlessly.
“Bang.”
A dull sound echoed.
Ye Tianjiao’s full-force blow vanished as if swallowed by the sea in front of that hand.
In the next instant, the white figure’s wrist flicked, and a purer, colder force surged back.
“Pu!”
Ye Tianjiao was struck as if by thunder, flung backward several meters to crash into a pillar, blood spraying from his mouth as his face turned deathly pale.
Only then did everyone see clearly.
A white dress, spotless.
A face peerless, cold as frost.
It was Xiao Liuli.
She stood protectively before Ye Chen, turning with icy eyes to sweep across the stunned Ye Nantian and the struggling Ye Tianjiao.
Her voice held no warmth.
“Someone like you dares touch what’s mine?”
Ye Nantian’s pupils contracted.
He was about to erupt, and the pressure of the Golden Core realm unconsciously surged.
But as his gaze passed over Xiao Liuli’s shoulder, he saw another figure in the doorway—a man in the elder robes of the Qingyun Holy Land, slowly approaching.
Li Changqing.
A buzzing blankness filled Ye Nantian’s mind.
All anger and pressure vanished, replaced by boundless terror.
His expression shifted from rage to an ingratiating smile at lightning speed.
“Li… Elder Li! You… why are you here? This… it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!”
He hurriedly stood, attempting to twist the truth.
“It’s this unfilial Ye Chen who defied his elders. Tianjiao merely acted in the heat of the moment…”
“Enough.”
Xiao Liuli coldly interrupted.
She didn’t spare the father and son another glance, but turned to Ye Chen behind her.
For an instant, the ice in her eyes melted, replaced by a gentle light.
“I am here to discuss my marriage with Ye Chen.”
Her voice was clear, each word echoing through the hall.
“The marriage will proceed as planned in one month. At that time, Elder Li, I ask that you serve as our Witness.”
At those words, Ye Tianjiao, who had just barely risen, swayed and collapsed, all color draining from his face.
His eyes were lifeless.
Ye Nantian froze, his smile uglier than a cry.
He could only nod repeatedly.
“Of course, of course… Certainly…”
At that moment, the balance of power in the hall completely shifted.
Li Changqing merely stroked his beard, watching calmly.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Xiao Liuli’s protective stance, then fell on the young man who had remained calm throughout.
His divine sense swept over him.
Third stage of Qi Refinement, spiritual power pure enough, but foundation average—an ordinary mortal.
Li Changqing’s brows furrowed slightly.
A ripple stirred within him.
Liuli was a once-in-a-lifetime cultivation prodigy, with limitless potential ahead.
On the path of the Dao, worldly attachments are the greatest obstacle.
The youth before him was nothing more than dust and shackles on her journey.
Such mortal affections would only become her Mind Demon.
It seemed, before bringing her back to the Holy Land, it was necessary… to sever these unnecessary ties swiftly.
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