The early morning sun cast a pale light over the sprawling Tang Family Estate, its golden rays barely cutting through the mist that clung to the hills. Today, like every morning, Xian Di rose before dawn and made his way to the Cultivation Hall, seeking the meagre resources he had been allotted.
With only a Mortal Grade Spiritual Root, Xian Di's progress in cultivation had been painfully slow, leaving him far behind his siblings and cousins. His Qi refused to gather properly, slipping away before he could advance to Qi Refinement Stage 3. But Xian Di was determined—he had no other choice.
As he walked the stone path toward the hall, the mountains looming in the distance, a familiar figure appeared ahead of him, blocking the way.
Tang Yong, dressed in his usual fine silks, stood waiting. His lips curled into a mocking smile the moment his gaze locked onto Xian Di.
"Up early again, I see," Tang Yong sneered. "Still trying to cultivate with that Mortal Grade Spiritual Root of yours? It's pathetic."
Xian Di clenched his fists but didn't respond. He knew better than to let Tang Yong provoke him, but the words still cut deep. His weakness was a constant reminder of how far beneath the rest of the family he was.
Tang Yong took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Father may have given you one last chance at this gathering, but everyone knows you'll fail. Even your mother knows it. That's why she's been covering for you all these years—she doesn't want you to embarrass her in front of the entire family."
Xian Di froze, his pulse quickening. His mother was the only person who had ever supported him, the only one who had ever shown him kindness. To hear Tang Yong twist her name into an insult was too much.
"You—" Xian Di's words were cut off by the rage bubbling inside him. Before he could stop himself, he launched forward, swinging at Tang Yong's smug face.
Tang Yong barely moved, sidestepping the punch with ease. With a smirk, he struck back, his palm slamming into Xian Di's chest with crushing force. The blow sent Xian Di sprawling onto the cold stone ground, the air knocked out of his lungs.
Tang Yong stood over him, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Pathetic. You should have known better than to attack someone so far above you." He turned to leave, laughing as he walked away. "Remember this next time you think you're worth something."
Xian Di lay on the ground, gasping for breath as pain radiated from his chest. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the stone wall for support. The humiliation burned in his gut, but there was nothing he could do. Tang Yong was right—he was too weak. The family would always see him as a failure.
Hours later, back in his chambers, Xian Di still struggled to breathe properly. His chest ached from Tang Yong's strike, and his body felt like it was slowly shutting down. Desperate to recover before the gathering, he reached for the small bottle of Qi Recovery Pills that he kept hidden.
He uncorked the vial and swallowed one of the pills, hoping it would help him heal.
But something was wrong.
Within moments, a cold sweat broke out across his skin. His heart raced erratically, and his vision swam. Panic surged through him as he collapsed to the floor, clutching at his throat. His breathing grew laboured, his limbs growing numb. This wasn't from Tang Yong's strike—this was something else.
Later that evening, Xian Di's mother walked into his chambers, immediately sensing something was wrong. The room was eerily quiet, and her heart dropped when she saw her son collapsed on the floor, pale and cold.
"Xian Di!" she rushed to him, kneeling by his side and shaking him gently. "Xian Di, wake up!"
But he didn't stir. His skin was cold to the touch, and his breathing was shallow—too shallow. Panic exploded in her chest, and in an instant, her aura flared out in every direction, a powerful surge of energy that shook the entire estate.
Her Foundation Stage (late) aura enveloped the Tang family grounds, causing servants and family members alike to freeze in terror. The weight of her spiritual power was overwhelming, and in mere seconds, the elders of the family had gathered in the courtyard, alarmed by the sudden disturbance.
"Who hurt my son?!" her voice boomed as she cradled Xian Di's lifeless body. Her gaze was fierce as it swept over the gathered members of the family, searching for any hint of guilt or fear.
The tension in the courtyard was suffocating. No one dared to speak.
One of the maids, standing in the back, glanced nervously at Tang Yong, her eyes betraying her thoughts. Xian Di's mother, always sharp, noticed the fleeting look immediately. She had long suspected Tang Yong of bullying her son, but she had tolerated it, as it had never gone too far—until now.
In a flash, her aura honed in on Tang Yong, who stiffened as the oppressive spiritual pressure weighed down on him. His knees buckled slightly, sweat forming on his brow.
"How dare you touch my son!" she bellowed, her eyes blazing with fury. The air crackled with her energy, and Tang Yong was frozen in place, unable to move or even speak.
Just as her power threatened to crush him, the Tang Family Clan Leader, Tang Zhenwu, appeared, his presence demanding immediate attention. He stepped between them, raising a hand toward her.
"Calm yourself, Mei Ling," he said, his voice low but firm. "You'll kill him if you continue."
Mei Ling's eyes were wild with anger, but she relented, retracting some of her pressure. Tang Yong collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, his body drenched in sweat.
Tang Zhenwu turned to his son, his gaze cold and unrelenting. "Explain," he ordered in a deep voice.
Tang Yong, still trembling, straightened up as much as he could. "I... I did nothing wrong," he stammered, his voice shaky. "Xian Di attacked me, unprovoked. I defended myself, but I swear, I didn't poison him. I have no idea where the poison came from!"
At his words, a maid to the side spoke up, bowing low. "It's true, Clan Leader. I saw it. Young Master Tang Yong was only defending himself. He didn't administer any poison."
Mei Ling glared at Tang Yong, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. She knew Tang Yong was involved—he always was—but without direct evidence, there was little she could do.
Tang Zhenwu's gaze lingered on Tang Yong for a moment longer before he turned back to Xian Di, whose life still hung in the balance. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he said grimly.
But even as he spoke, they all knew—time was running out.
The next morning, just as Xian Di's breath grew dangerously faint, a voice echoed in the back of his mind, soft yet powerful.
"System activating... welcome, Xian Di."