The moon held its regal position in the starry night sky, casting its resplendent light over the bustling city below. The streets teemed with life, a torrent of new faces—cultivators and vagabonds alike—pouring into the famed avenues. Rumors whispered of ancient treasures and undiscovered secret grounds, yet most of the city’s inhabitants remained oblivious to the true reason behind the influx of cultivators into their humble home.

Meanwhile, in the grand hall of the Han Estate, the air was thick with tension. Guards lined the perimeter of the building, their blood-red armor glinting in the moonlight. Each one stood with the seasoned vitality of a hardened cultivator. Despite the heavy presence of guards, the expansive area was otherwise eerily silent, void of clan members or servants.

From the distance, the silhouette of a young man emerged, his figure cutting through the moonlit haze. Han Rui’s lazy gaze wandered over the distant buildings and sculptures, his steps measured and deliberate. As he approached the guards, none reacted; they neither acknowledged his presence nor obstructed his path. It was as though he moved like a phantom, the guards subconsciously shifting aside to clear the way without even realizing it.

Arriving before the massive doors of the main hall, Han Rui didn’t pause. His figure passed through the heavy, reinforced doors like mist slipping through a crack.

It’s been a while since we’ve gathered like this. I just hope this meeting doesn’t drag on; he mused silently.

Within the hall, a heated debate was already underway.

“Patriarch, the number of cultivators flooding the city continues to rise. At this point, it can’t be a mere coincidence,” one elder declared, his voice tinged with exasperation. “It’s clear those scheming bastards are up to something.”

“I concur!” another elder chimed in, his expression dark. “Those sects cannot be trusted. After all the rejections they’ve suffered in their attempts to form alliances with us, it seems they’ve decided to abandon all pretense.”

“Why should we be concerned about those pests?” a brutish elder growled. “We are not the weaklings we once were. Let them try—those pompous fools are no match for us anymore.”

“That confidence is commendable, Elder Zhou,” Han Wudi interjected, his tone measured. “But this time, the Eternal Spring Sect isn’t just sniffing around—they’re requesting that young master Han Rui join their ranks.”

A collective uproar erupted.

“Nonsense!” multiple elders exclaimed in unison.

“Who do those self-righteous bookworms think they are?” Han Yating roared, slamming her fist onto the armrest of his chair. Her fiery gaze turned toward the patriarch, Han Xianlong, who sat calmly at the head of the room.

Xianlong yawned slightly, his indifferent expression betraying no sign of concern as his eyes swept across the gathered elders.

“Ahem, I share your sentiments,” Han Wudi said, clearing his throat. “But before we make any decisions, we should hear the young master’s opinion on the matter.” He turned toward Xianlong and asked, “When is the young master expected to arrive?”

Xianlong opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a voice rang out from the shadows.

“I’m here already. Sorry for the delay, elders.”

Han Rui’s form suddenly appeared beside Xianlong, his presence as subtle as a whisper, yet every elder in the room immediately rose to their feet. The indifferent look on Xianlong’s face vanished in an instant.

“Please, everyone, be seated,” Han Rui said warmly, his smile radiating ease. His gaze wandered as he scanned the room. “Grandfather… hmm, I don’t see Great-Grandfather. Where is he?”

Before Xianlong could respond, a shadow loomed over Han Rui. The faint scent of sweat mixed with flowers reached his nose, and before he could react, two powerful arms enveloped him in a crushing embrace. Thunderous laughter echoed through the hall.

“My boy, I’ve missed you so much!” a booming voice declared. “But look at you—so skinny! Are you eating properly?”

Han Rui’s smile turned dry as he struggled in vain to free himself from the ironclad grip. Finally, he gave up. “Great-Grandfather, I missed you too. It’s good to see you’re as strong as ever. Congratulations on breaking through again.”

Han Wuchen’s laugh grew louder as he finally released Han Rui, his vigor undiminished. Despite being Xianlong’s father, Wuchen looked like a man in his twenties, his inky-black hair gleaming like polished obsidian and his sculpted muscles exuding a youthful energy that put the younger generation to shame.

“We greet the ancestor!” the elders and Xianlong intoned in unison, bowing deeply.

But Wuchen waved them off, his sharp blue eyes fixed solely on Han Rui. “You’re even more handsome than the last time I saw you.” His grin turned mischievous. “I bet you’ve got the ladies of the Celestial Ridge crying themselves to sleep.”

Han Rui chuckled nervously, his eyes darting toward Xianlong and the elders. None of them met his gaze, their dry smiles betraying their reluctance to explain what had happened with the Su Clan.

They didn’t tell him, huh? Han Rui thought, suppressing a sigh. Well, I don’t blame them. They’re counting on me to handle this.

“Great-Grandfather,” Han Rui said gently, “we can discuss that later. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

“Nonsense!” Wuchen declared, turning to the elders. “They don’t mind. Do you?”

The elders immediately shook their heads in unison, their movements almost mechanical.

“See?” Wuchen said brightly. “They’re not so useless they can’t manage without you. Come, Rui’er. Let’s go to my abode. You’re old enough now for my special drink. We’ll talk about all your girlfriends—how many have you had?”

“Um, Father—” Xianlong began hesitantly, but the sharp glare from Wuchen froze the words in his throat.

“Did you say something?” Wuchen asked, his tone dangerously soft.

Xianlong shook his head vigorously. “No, Father.”

“Good.” Wuchen’s fierce gaze softened instantly as he turned back to Han Rui. “Let’s go.”

“Great-Grandfather, please,” Han Rui interjected, his tone as soothing as a spring breeze. “Surely you wouldn’t want me to shirk my duties, right? I promise the meeting won’t take long. Afterward, we’ll have all the time in the world to drink and chat.”

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Wuchen pouted like a child denied a toy. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

“Thank you, Great-Grandfather.”

As Wuchen relented, the elders heaved a collective sigh of relief and began lowering themselves into their seats.

“What do you incompetent old bag of bones think you’re doing?” Wuchen suddenly roared, his voice like thunder.

“A-Ancestor, I don’t quite follow,” Han Wudi stammered, visibly trembling.

“Who said you could sit? You talentless hacks haven’t even reached Quasi-Immortal with all the resources at your disposal. If I were in your shoes, I’d cripple myself and become a farmer. At least then, I’d be able to harvest something!”

Han Rui’s lips parted slightly in shock. It’s been so long I forgot how vicious his tongue can be. He glanced at the elders, all of whom—including Xianlong—looked on the verge of tears. If I let this continue, he’s going to make them cry. Again.

Han Rui cleared his throat. “Great-Grandfather, I won’t play with you later if you keep berating the others,” he said with a faint smile. “And if you keep interrupting, I’ll have no choice but to kick you out of the hall.”

Wuchen blinked at him, then burst into laughter. “Kick me out, you say? You’ve grown bold, my boy!”

“Yes,” Han Rui replied lightly, his smile unwavering. “And I’ll prove it if I have to.”

“But Rui’er…” Wuchen’s voice cracked as he met Han Rui’s unwavering gaze. He pouted like a scolded child, folding his arms across his chest. “Okay, I understand.”

Han Rui sighed softly. Stubborn old man. It seems rejuvenation has only made him more brazen with his words.

“Alright, everyone, please take your seats,” Han Rui said with a gentle smile.

The elders, however, remained as stiff as statues, their eyes darting cautiously toward Wuchen.

“Young Master,” one elder finally managed, his voice trembling slightly, “we’re fine standing.”

Han Rui turned toward Wuchen, who flashed an infuriatingly innocent smile.

“Alright, fine. If that’s what you want,” Han Rui said, lowering himself into an empty chair. “Let’s move on. What’s the first agenda for today?”

The fifth elder cleared his throat, his gaze flickering nervously to Wuchen before settling on Han Rui. “Young Master, apart from the issue with the Eternal Spring Sect—”

“There’s no need to discuss that,” Han Rui cut in quickly. “I have no intention of joining them. Let’s focus on the other matters.”

Before the fifth elder could respond, Wuchen’s voice chimed in, disturbingly cheerful.

“Wait a moment,” he said, leaning forward with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “What’s this about the Eternal Spring Sect?”

Han Rui froze as a chill traveled down his spine. Oh no. This is bad. I should’ve known better than to mention that in his presence.

“Great-Grandfather, it’s nothing serious—”

But Han Rui’s words were drowned out by Wuchen’s thunderous roar. His once-cheerful expression contorted into pure rage.

“Those book-sniffing virgins dared to ask my boy to join their pathetic sect!? Who do they think they are!? I’ll teach those bastards a lesson they’ll never forget!”

“Great-Grandfather, please—” Han Rui began, but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, Wuchen disappeared.

“Oh, shit,” Han Rui muttered, sinking back into his chair. Those poor fools don’t even know what’s coming. I can’t decide if I should feel sorry for them or not.

He glanced toward the elders, who were still standing stiffly. “Let me guess: he threatened to break your legs if you didn’t talk, right?”

Xianlong sighed deeply. “Worse. He said he’d pluck out our balls, stir-fry them, and force-feed them to us.”

The elders nodded solemnly, their faces pale with horror.

Han Rui fought the urge to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress the inappropriate humor bubbling within him. Why do I find this situation so funny?

After a moment, he straightened his face and spoke calmly. “Send some compensation to the Eternal Spring Sect. Anonymously, of course. They’re going to need it.”

“Yes, Young Master,” an elder replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Han Rui turned back to the fifth elder. “Now, about the other matters. There shouldn’t be any major issues, right?”

The fifth elder hesitated before mumbling, “That depends. If we fail, we might actually have to eat… our balls.”

Han Rui massaged his temples. “Relax. There’s no need to worry.”

Han Yating suddenly stepped forward, her fiery gaze locking on Han Rui. “Young Master, if it’s about them, why do we hold back? We have enough power to crush them all. The only reason we remain hidden is because you told us to. But if you want, we can reveal ourselves now.”

Han Rui leaned back, considering her words. He had read enough cultivation novels to know that revealing their strength prematurely could only lead to chaos. But complete seclusion wasn’t sustainable either. Eventually, they’d need to show the world their might—but at the right moment.

When all the elders and Grandfather reach Quasi-Immortal… That should be enough to make our foundation unshakable.

With his mind made up, Han Rui smiled. “We’ll reveal ourselves when everyone here, excluding me, attains a Quasi-Immortal realm cultivation base. Once that happens, no sect in the neighboring states will dare to challenge us.”

The room fell silent as Xianlong and the elders exchanged bemused glances. The corner of Xianlong’s eye twitched slightly, mirroring the disbelief on the elders’ faces.

Han Rui, oblivious to their expressions, calmly retrieved a water bottle from his robes and took a sip.

One elder stared at Xianlong, speaking via qi transmission. “Patriarch… how grand is the Young Master’s ambition?”

“Why are you asking me? How would I know?” Xianlong sighed, massaging his temples. “We already have enough resources and power to dominate the entire region, even if all the sects and major families in the Celestial Ridge banded together, yet it doesn’t seem to satisfy him. For all I know, his real goal might be to dominate the world.”

The elders simultaneously turned their gazes toward Han Rui, who remained blissfully unaware, casually sipping water as if he weren’t the center of their hushed conspiracy theories.

“So… it wasn’t just a coincidence that he left the Illusionary Fields around the same time the ancestor solidified his advancement,” an elder mentioned, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “The young master must have been plotting something for a while now.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” another elder muttered, nodding in agreement.

Han Rui coughed lightly, tucking the water bottle back into his robes. His calm voice echoing in the silent hall. “Sorry about that. My throat’s been a bit dry lately.” His gaze swept across the room, and he leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting. “Now that we’ve settled those matters, there’s something else I want to discuss.”

The elders immediately stiffened, their attention snapping to Han Rui.

“What is it, Rui’er?” Xianlong asked cautiously, his instincts warning him that whatever was coming next would not bode well for their peace of mind.

A mischievous smile curled across Han Rui’s lips. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as the elders collectively shivered. They watched intently as Han Rui reached into his robes and pulled out several unfamiliar objects: pristine, snow-white slabs of jade, cleanly cut and smooth, yet oddly opaque.

“What sort of treasure is this?” Xianlong wondered aloud, his brows furrowed. “It looks like a mirror, but… not quite as clear.”

He wasn’t alone. The other elders exchanged puzzled looks, their expressions mirroring Xianlong’s confusion.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Han Wudi finally broke the silence. “Pardon me, young master, but… what are those?”

Han Rui’s grin widened. He placed the jade slabs on the table with deliberate care, their polished surfaces gleaming under the hall’s light.

“Gentlemen,” Han Rui began, his voice filled with uncharacteristic excitement. “The Sacred Martial World is about to change forever. Say goodbye to the old ways, because we’re entering a new era!”

The room fell into stunned silence.

Xianlong blinked. “A new… era?”

Han Wudi leaned closer, squinting at the mysterious slabs. “Young master, forgive my ignorance, but how exactly will these… things change the Sacred Martial World?”

Han Rui leaned back, his gaze sweeping across the room, letting the tension build for just a moment longer before speaking.

“These are called tablets,” he said, his tone casual but confident. “And they’re not just treasures—they’re tools. Tools that will revolutionize communication, information exchange, and cultivation techniques. With these, we won’t just be leaders in martial strength—we’ll lead in innovation.”

The elders stared blankly, the words barely registering.

“Um… Rui’er,” Xianlong ventured hesitantly, “how do these… ‘tablets’ work?”

Han Rui’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I’m glad you asked. Allow me to demonstrate.”

The elders leaned in as Han Rui activated one of the slabs. A faint glow emanated from its surface, followed by intricate symbols and patterns that seemed to float in mid-air.

“By the heavens!” one elder gasped, nearly staggering to the floor.

“It’s sorcery!” another whispered in awe.

Han Rui chuckled. “It’s not sorcery, it’s technology. No, that’s not quite right either. You’re right, it’s sorcery.”

Xianlong pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rui’er, please don’t tell me this is another one of your… experiments.”

Han Rui smirked. “Oh, it’s much more than that, Grandfather. This is just the beginning.”

The elders exchanged nervous glances. Deep down, they all knew one thing: whatever Han Rui had planned, their lives were about to become significantly more complicated.