As the morning sunlight spilled across the Yan Clan's grand residence, Yan Zi prepared himself for another day. His mind, however, was far from the peaceful glow of the morning. The disappearance of his father, Yan Hong, lingered like a dark shadow in his thoughts. He had spent much of the previous night piecing together fragments of information from his mother, trying to make sense of the events that led to his father's vanishing.
Stepping out of his room, Yan Zi resolved to begin his day with purpose. He wandered through the expansive grounds of the Yan Clan residence, observing the routine lives of the disciples. Groups of young cultivators practiced their martial techniques in designated training areas, their determined cries filling the air as their fists struck targets with precision. Others were engrossed in meditation, their bodies surrounded by faint auras of qi as they refined their energy.
Yan Zi's sharp blue eyes darted across the scene, scrutinizing every detail. He wasn't just watching—he was analyzing. His goal was clear: to find anything unusual or suspicious that might lead him closer to understanding the truth about his father's disappearance.
As he walked, Yan Zi kept his steps light and deliberate. He passed by the kitchens, where the faint smell of steamed buns wafted into the air, and by the armory, where disciples inspected weapons under the watchful eyes of senior mentors. Everything appeared ordinary—almost too ordinary.
With a sigh, he muttered under his breath, "It's as if nothing ever happened here... but I know better."
As he reached the central courtyard, the loud ring of a bell reverberated across the residence. A clear, commanding voice followed: "All disciples are to gather in the clan hall immediately!" The tone left no room for delay.
Yan Zi frowned slightly but adjusted his course, blending into the streams of disciples heading toward the majestic clan hall. Inside, the grandeur of the space was undeniable. Massive pillars lined the hall, intricately carved with depictions of fierce battles and glorious victories from the Yan Clan's history. The air buzzed with anticipation as disciples filled the room, murmuring softly among themselves.
At the forefront of the hall stood the Clan Leader, Yan Shengtian, a towering figure with a commanding presence. His sharp gaze swept across the assembled disciples, quieting them with nothing more than a raised hand. To his right stood the First Elder, Yan Gaung, whose serious demeanor and stern eyes gave little away. On his left was the Third Elder, Yan Gong, his expression calm but with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk that made Yan Zi uneasy.
Behind them were two additional elders who managed various aspects of the clan's administration, their faces neutral but their presence significant.
The disciples arranged themselves in neat rows. At the front were Yan Ling and Yan Xingtian, the Clan Leader's proud children. Yan Ling stood tall, her expression composed but confident, while Yan Xingtian's sharp eyes scanned the crowd, his aura radiating arrogance. Beside them stood Yan Ru, the daughter of the First Elder. She maintained her usual grace, her posture straight and her hands folded in front of her. Behind them stood Yan Feng, Yan Yu, and several other disciples of notable rank, all eager to hear what the Clan Leader had to say.
Yan Zi positioned himself toward the back, deliberately avoiding attention. His golden-brown complexion glowed faintly under the light filtering into the hall, his bright blue eyes alert and observant. While the others stood with eager anticipation, Yan Zi's mind was elsewhere, still caught up in his own investigations.
"Disciples of the Yan Clan," Yan Shengtian's voice rang out, firm and resonant, pulling everyone's attention to him. "Today, we discuss an important matter concerning the future of our clan. As you all know, in one year and eight months, the Sky Clear Sect will host its renowned competition. This event is not merely a test of strength—it is a stage for our clan to showcase its prowess to the entire cultivation world."
A ripple of excitement spread through the disciples. The Sky Clear Sect's competition was a prestigious event, and the prospect of representing the Yan Clan filled many with ambition.
Yan Shengtian continued, his tone steady, "This time, our clan will be represented by our three most talented disciples—Yan Ling, Yan Xingtian, and Yan Ru. These three have demonstrated exceptional talent and unwavering dedication. Their training will intensify as we prepare them to bring glory to the Yan Clan."
The disciples murmured among themselves, some casting admiring glances at the three chosen representatives. Yan Ling stood with quiet pride, while Yan Xingtian allowed a smirk to play on his lips, clearly enjoying the recognition. Yan Ru remained composed, her gaze fixed ahead.
Yan Shengtian raised his hand, silencing the crowd once more. "Alongside our representatives, we will also select additional disciples to accompany us and gain experience. Furthermore, two elders will join us to observe and ensure our clan's interests are well-protected."
The excitement in the hall grew palpable, with disciples whispering eagerly about who might be chosen.
Yet, as the hall buzzed with enthusiasm, Yan Zi stood still, his arms crossed and his expression pensive. He barely registered Yan Shengtian's words. His thoughts drifted back to the black-robed man.
"How could he have known where we lived?" Yan Zi mused silently, his eyes narrowing slightly. "To know the exact location, he must have had information from someone inside the clan. But how? And who?"
He frowned, his gaze flickering to the elders standing beside the Clan Leader. "A man with a Spirit Awakening cultivation should have been sensed immediately. If he managed to infiltrate unnoticed, it means someone within the clan shielded him… someone with significant influence."
The thought sent a chill down Yan Zi's spine, but he quickly pushed it aside. His focus returned to the present as Yan Shengtian concluded his speech, encouraging the disciples to train harder and strive for excellence.
The disciples clapped politely, their excitement still evident, as the gathering began to disperse. Yan Zi lingered at the back, his expression unreadable. As others moved to discuss the announcement, he turned silently and walked away, his mind heavy with unanswered questions.
"I need to find out who's behind this... and I need to do it without drawing attention to myself," he thought, determination flashing in his bright blue eyes.
The faint orange hues of the evening had long faded, leaving the Yan Clan residence bathed in darkness. The cool air carried a quiet stillness, broken only by the occasional chirping of crickets and the distant rustle of leaves swaying in the night breeze. Yan Zi sat alone in his room, the dim light of a lantern casting soft shadows on the walls.
His mind was racing, a relentless tide of thoughts crashing against his resolve. The day had been uneventful on the surface, but every passing moment deepened his conviction that someone within the clan was connected to his father's disappearance. Yan Zi's sharp blue eyes glimmered with determination as he sat cross-legged on his bed, the faint glow of his qi surrounding him as he attempted to calm his thoughts.
After a deep breath, he reached into his belt and retrieved a small leather pouch. Carefully, he untied it, revealing its contents: a set of slender, poisonous needles with gleaming tips and a few jade-green healing pills that gave off a faint medicinal aroma. Yan Zi inspected the needles, running a finger along their edges cautiously. They were weapons of stealth, not confrontation—perfect for someone trying to remain unnoticed.
He exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath, "These will do." With deliberate precision, he placed the needles and pills into his space ring, the small storage artifact glowing faintly before dimming as it absorbed the items.
Next, Yan Zi retrieved a long, black scarf from a drawer. Standing in front of the small bronze mirror in his room, he carefully wrapped it around the lower half of his face, concealing his features. The fabric clung tightly to his skin, leaving only his piercing blue eyes visible. He adjusted it, tugging at the edges until it felt secure.
"If I'm going to do this, I need to be careful," he whispered to himself, his voice muffled by the scarf.
Yan Zi moved toward the window, his footsteps light and deliberate. The faint creak of the wooden floor made him pause, his sharp gaze darting toward the door as he strained to hear any movement outside. Silence. He sighed softly, relieved, before pushing the window open with slow, calculated movements.
The cold night air greeted him as he slipped through the window, landing quietly on the soft earth below. He straightened, his movements fluid and practiced, and began making his way toward the First Elder Yan Gaung's residence.
The path was dimly lit by scattered lanterns, their warm glow casting elongated shadows across the stone walkways. Yan Zi stuck to the edges, blending into the darkness as he moved with practiced ease. His eyes scanned his surroundings constantly, alert for any sign of movement.
As he approached the First Elder's house, his heart began to race. Yan Gaung's residence was one of the largest in the clan, its imposing structure surrounded by high walls and guarded by a faint, shimmering barrier of defensive qi. Yan Zi crouched behind a nearby tree, his gaze locked on the house as he considered his next move.
"The barrier isn't too strong," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "It's meant to deter ordinary disciples, not someone determined."
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before moving closer. The soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots seemed deafening in the quiet night, and he winced slightly at the sound. Reaching the base of the wall, Yan Zi placed his hands against the cold stone, testing its surface.
"Shouldn't be too hard to climb," he muttered, his voice tinged with resolve.
He began his ascent, his movements slow and deliberate to avoid making any noise. The rough texture of the wall bit into his fingers, but Yan Zi ignored the discomfort, his focus unwavering. He was halfway up when a faint rustling sound behind him made him freeze. His breath caught in his throat, and he pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest.
Seconds passed like hours, but nothing happened. Convinced it was just the wind, Yan Zi exhaled softly, shaking his head at his own nerves.
"Get a grip, Yan Zi," he muttered under his breath.
He continued climbing, his fingers gripping the edge of the wall as he pulled himself upward. His blue eyes scanned the courtyard beyond, noting the faint glow of a lantern in one of the windows. The rest of the residence seemed dark and silent.
Just as he was about to hoist himself over the wall, a sudden thought struck him like lightning, his grip tightening reflexively on the stone. He gritted his teeth, his voice a low, fierce whisper.
"Father, whoever is behind this…" He paused, the words heavy with emotion as he stared into the distance. "…I'll make them pay for it. I swear it."
The weight of his vow settled over him, his resolve hardening further. His heart pounded with a mix of anger and determination as he prepared to continue.
But just as he steadied himself to climb, a sudden, firm grip on his shoulder sent a jolt of shock through his body. His entire frame stiffened, and his mind raced as a cold chill ran down his spine.
Before he could think, he reacted on instinct, twisting his body and shouting, "Who is this?!"
The sound of his voice echoed into the stillness of the night, sharp and filled with alarm. His heart pounded like a war drum as he turned to face whoever—or whatever—had grabbed him, his blue eyes wide with a mix of fear and defiance.
The scene froze in suspense, the shadowy figure behind him concealed by the darkness. Yan Zi's breathing quickened as his mind raced with possibilities. The silence that followed was deafening.