"Thank you, Big Brother," Lin Yun managed to mumble, his cheeks flushed.
The warm familial moment passed as everyone found their seats, the atmosphere in the grand hall shifting from celebratory to serious. Lin Canghai, his expression grim, stepped forward to address the Patriarch and the assembled elders.
"Father, honored elders," he began, his voice cutting through the quiet murmurs. "There is a matter concerning the celebration tomorrow. The Wang, Ji, and Zhou Clans have jointly proposed a competition among the younger generations. They have even managed to secure City Lord Su himself to act as the honorable referee."
A cold light flashed in Lin Canghai's eyes. "Their purpose is transparent. They wish to use this public stage to ruin the prestige of our Lin Clan. Their primary target is undoubtedly Feng'er. They aim to suppress him, to damage his momentum and confidence right before he enters the Floating Cloud Secret Realm."
A ripple of anger and concern passed through the elders. This was a blatant, politically motivated attack.
Lin Feng, who had been listening calmly, showed no surprise. This was, in fact, the main reason he had cut short his crucial preparations to return. He needed to face this challenge head-on.
Lin Yun listened from his seat near the back, his mind cross-referencing the information with the original owner's memories.
The political landscape of Fortune City's seven major clans was clear: the Ji, Nangong, Wang, and Zhou Clans were openly hostile to the Lin Clan. The Hua Clan, due to their symbiotic business relationship, was friendly. The Bai Clan maintained a neutral, cordial stance.
Lin Zhen stroked his long beard, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. He swept his gaze over the room, his eyes lingering on the younger generation.
"Since they are so determined to destroy our Lin Clan's prestige," he said, his voice deceptively mild, "then we shall play their game. However, it is yet uncertain who will be destroying whom."
Lin Feng nodded, his composure unshaken. He analyzed the situation with a strategist's cool logic. "Among the younger generation of our rivals, only Ji Gengxin, the eldest son of the Ji Clan, and Nangong Liang of the Nangong Clan, pose any significant threat. The rest are not worth mentioning."
A slight frown creased his brow. "But that is what puzzles me. Both Ji Gengxin and Nangong Liang have lost to me numerous times in the past. They are well aware of the gap between us. What gives them the confidence to challenge me now? What new trick are they planning?"
It was at this moment that Butler Yu, who had been standing silently by the wall, stepped forward and bowed. "Patriarch, Young Master. This humble servant has received a piece of news in the past week that may be relevant."
All eyes turned to him.
"Butler Yu, speak," Lin Canghai commanded.
"According to my sources," Butler Yu reported, his voice steady, "Ji Gengxin has been accepted as a direct disciple by the sect master of the Sky Sword Sect. There appears to have been a significant transaction between the Ji Clan and the Sky Sword Sect within the last month."
A wave of murmurs swept through the hall. Lin Feng's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.
"The Sky Sword Sect?" he repeated. "They are a first-rate sect within the Great Han Kingdom, known for their arrogance and exclusivity. For them to recruit Ji Gengxin... that is indeed unexpected. His talent is decent, but not to that level. There must be more to this."
Lin Zhen continued to stroke his beard, his expression calm. But Lin Yun, watching from the sidelines, felt a subtle change in the air around the old man. It wasn't a visible aura, but a feeling—a cold, sharp, murderous intent that radiated from his very core, so controlled it was almost undetectable.
This was the anger of a patriarch whose clan was being threatened.
Lin Zhen's gaze swept over Lin Feng, then over all the younger clansmen in the hall, including Lin Yun.
"During this period," the Old Patriarch's voice was low but carried immense weight, "everyone must prepare themselves well. Be vigilant. This competition is not just about Feng'er. It is a test for our entire Lin Clan's younger generation. Do not bring shame upon our name."
His eyes finally settled on Lin Feng. "Feng'er, you stay. We have matters to discuss."
The dismissal was clear. The other family members, understanding the gravity of the situation, began to file out of the hall quietly.
Lin Yun stood up with the others, his mind racing. From the look of it, there was a chance he'd be involved in this. With his current strength, going on the stage would simply be suicide.
He couldn't rely on the hope that they would only target the top talents. In a clan-wide test, even the "trash" could be dragged out to be humiliated and used to tarnish the clan's name.
He didn't return to his courtyard. Instead, his feet carried him with newfound purpose towards the Lin Clan's library. It was a different building from the one at the academy—older, more austere, filled with the accumulated knowledge of his own family.
He bypassed the sections on alchemy and history, heading straight for the combat manuals. The shelves were filled with jade slips and leather-bound books detailing various techniques. He wasn't looking for anything profound; he needed the basics, and he needed them fast.
After some searching, he selected a simple offensive technique recorded on a common jade slip: Fire Fist. It was a basic Qi Condensation level technique that taught the user to gather fire-attribute spiritual energy in their fist for a single, concentrated strike.
It was unrefined and consumed a lot of energy, but it was straightforward and could deliver a surprising amount of power.
Clutching the jade slip, he returned to the moonlit quiet of his private courtyard. He didn't go inside. He stood in the center of the open training area, the cool morning air a stark contrast to the fire he was about to conjure…