The elders exchanged uneasy glances; their silence thick with unspoken questions. Han Rui, seated calmly, made no effort to break the stillness but maintained his easy smile, patiently waiting. He knew the elders had plenty to ask.

Finally, Xianlong cleared his throat, shattering the silence. “Rui’er, regarding these tablets, what exactly do you plan to do with them?”

Han Rui chuckled, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’m glad you asked, Grandfather.” He picked up one of the tablets, holding it up for all to see. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to communicate with someone thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—of miles away? Perhaps even on another continent?”

His words hung in the air like a dropped pin. The elders stared at the small tablet in his hand, their expressions a mix of awe and skepticism. Despite the many miracles Han Rui had brought to the clan over the years, his claims still managed to stretch their belief.

“B-But, young master,” one elder began hesitantly, “there are already thousand-mile sound transmission talismans… even ten-thousand-mile ones.”

“For larger sects, they also have messaging arrays, spirit communication mirrors, and even heavenly whisper crystals capable of inter-realm communication,” another elder chimed in.

The elders nodded in agreement, their gazes returning to Han Rui. He nodded along, acknowledging their points, though his mischievous smile never wavered.

“And how much,” Han Rui asked, his voice dropping for emphasis, “does it cost to make just one of those?”

The hall fell silent again as the elders exchanged uncertain glances.

The third elder rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The sound transmission talismans aren’t particularly difficult to make but crafting them requires a skilled talisman master. We’ve employed several reputable ones over the years to ensure a steady supply. However, the materials—especially for the ten-thousand-mile talismans—are quite expensive.”

“Indeed,” another elder added. “As for messaging arrays and spirit communication mirrors, we wouldn’t have them at all without your guidance, young master. If we were to commission such items from outside the clan… well, I’m not sure we could even afford them.”

“Exactly!” Han Rui declared triumphantly, raising the tablet higher. “Now, imagine this: what if I told you that this little marvel could perform all the functions of those treasures you just mentioned—and more?” He paused for dramatic effect. “And trust me when I say that’s only scratching the surface of its capabilities.”

The elders’ jaws collectively dropped; disbelief etched on their faces. How could such a small device accomplish so much?

“I can see your doubts,” Han Rui said suddenly, his tone light but knowing. The elders shifted uncomfortably.

“Rui’er, it’s not that we don’t believe you…” Xianlong began hesitantly.

“I know, I know.” Han Rui waved dismissively, grinning. “No need to explain, Grandfather. I’ll prove it instead.” His eyes shifted to one of the elders. “Elder Yating, would you mind helping me with a little demonstration?”

“Of course, young master,” Elder Yating replied with a respectful nod. “What do you need from me?”

Han Rui rose from his seat and beckoned her to the side. The other elders watched intently as the two conversed in hushed tones. Han Rui gestured animatedly toward the tablet several times, as if explaining its usage as Elder Yating listened with growing incredulity.

“Patriarch, is this going to be okay?” the first elder asked via qi transmission, his unease evident.

“Let him be,” Xianlong replied with a sigh. “I haven’t seen him this excited in years. I’m sure nothing dangerous will happen… probably.”

The elders’ murmurs ceased as Han Rui pulled a strange bead from his robes and handed it to Elder Yating. Her eyes widened as she accepted it. Before anyone could question the bead’s origin, Elder Yating vanished into thin air, leaving the elders slack-jawed.

Did we just witness greater teleportation? Xianlong blinked rapidly, glancing at the others, who mirrored his stunned expression.

Han Rui, looking as pleased as ever, returned to his seat.

“Rui’er,” Xianlong began cautiously, “was that bead a greater teleportation treasure?”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Han Rui replied, grinning. “How did you guess?”

“Where did you send Elder Yating?” Xianlong pressed, his brow furrowing.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure,” Han Rui admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “But don’t worry—it’s a safe place… I think.”

The elders chuckled nervously, though their eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

Amid the awkward silence, a strange ringing sound echoed through the hall. It was a bizarre, warbling tune, reminiscent of a cat attempting to sing. All eyes turned toward one of the tablets on the table, which vibrated gently against the wood. Han Rui, unfazed, reached for the device, tapping on a fluorescent green icon flashing on its surface.

“Um, young master?” Elder Yating’s voice echoed from the small tablet, leaving the watching elders utterly dumbfounded.

“Elder, do what I instructed,” Han Rui said, turning the colorful surface of the tablet to face the elders. Before they could fully process what was happening, the display shifted, replaced by a real-time projection of Elder Yating.

The elders gasped audibly. Their disbelief deepened as their gazes locked onto the elder’s surroundings—massive, towering pillars radiating a faint, luminous glow. But these weren’t ordinary pillars. The light was unmistakable, one every cultivator in the Sacred Martial World would recognize instantly—the glow of spirit stones. Yet the sheer size and abundance of the spirit stones defied comprehension.

“Elder Yating, where in the heavens are you?” Xianlong demanded, his voice tense as his gaze flicked between the screen and Han Rui’s calm, smiling face.

“I… I don’t know, Patriarch,” Elder Yating admitted, her voice tinged with awe. “But wherever this is, I’m certain it’s on a different continent—or even another realm entirely. The qi here is so pure and dense… I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking through just by standing here.”

The elders stood frozen, their mouths agape. The location they were witnessing wasn’t just rare; it was mythical. Their minds raced as they processed this revelation. They had seen Han Rui perform wonders before, but this? This was beyond anything they could have anticipated.

Xianlong inhaled deeply, steadying his thoughts. “Rui’er,” he said at last, “how is this even possible?”

Han Rui waved the question away. “Grandfather, the ‘how’ isn’t important right now. We can discuss that later.” He gestured at the projection of Elder Yating. “What’s important is this: Elder Yating is currently in another realm, and yet we’re communicating effortlessly in real-time. No talismans. No arrays. No resources consumed. Now, while it’s true that larger sects can send disciples to hidden realms, they certainly can’t communicate as seamlessly as this—and even if they could, it wouldn’t come cheap.”

Turning the tablet back to himself, Han Rui addressed the elder. “Elder Yating, you can use the bead to return now. Thank—” He stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting as he noticed something peculiar. For a moment, Elder Yating had adjusted her tablet, giving him a clear view of her bulging robes—now clearly stuffed with spirit stones and treasures.

Elder Yating wore a bashful grin, her pearly teeth gleaming in the projection. Han Rui’s lips twitched, but he said nothing further. The duo shared a mutual, knowing nod, and the transmission ended.

“Rui’er,” Xianlong pressed, his sharp gaze narrowing. “What’s the matter? Your expression changed.”

Han Rui carefully placed the tablet on the table, his calm demeanor quickly returning. “It’s nothing, Grandfather. Just a passing thought.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the tablet. “As I was saying, this is only a fraction of what this treasure can do.”

Silence fell over the hall. All eyes were glued to the tiny object that, at a glance, appeared no more remarkable than a slab of jade.

“Young master,” the fifth elder spoke hesitantly, “this tablet is indeed extraordinary… but only the most illustrious sects could possibly afford such a treasure.”

“Yes, I must agree,” another elder said, his gaze fixed on the pile of tablets near Han Rui. “Should we even reveal such an item to the world? It could bring as much trouble as it does opportunity.”

Xianlong nodded gravely. “Rui’er, while the tablet’s operational costs seem negligible, I can’t imagine its production is the same. Items of this caliber are bound to be prohibitively expensive, far beyond the means of ordinary clans—or even many sects.”

Han Rui’s ever-present smile deepened as he shook his head lightly. “Grandfather, elders, I believe you’re mistaken about something.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Huh? What do you mean?” the fifth elder asked, his brows furrowed.

The elders watched intently as Han Rui picked up a tablet. With a grin, he declared, “I never said these were the only ones in my possession.”

Gasps erupted across the room, eyes widening in disbelief.

“R-Rui’er…” Xianlong stammered, his voice unsteady. “Just how many of these do you have?”

The hall grew deathly quiet, every breath held as the elders waited for his answer, their gazes locked on Han Rui.

“How many people live in the Sacred Martial World?” Han Rui replied with a question of his own.

Silence. The elders gaped at him, their expressions a mix of disbelief and awe. The Sacred Martial World was unfathomably vast—too immense for anyone to claim mastery over its expanse or population. Not even the most illustrious sects could estimate the number of its inhabitants. And yet, Han Rui’s words were clear: he had enough tablets for everyone. If it had been anyone else, the elders might have dismissed it as youthful hubris. But this was Han Rui—the architect of the Han Clan’s miraculous revival.

“Young master,” the first elder stammered, breaking the silence, “you mean to say… even those without cultivation bases could use this?”

The question sent a ripple of shock through the hall. The elders had grown so accustomed to Han Rui’s eccentricities that they had momentarily forgotten—he himself was without a cultivation base. Yet, he had wielded the tablet with effortless precision.

Several elders slumped into their chairs; their composure shattered.

“This is… absurd,” one elder muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

It was only now that the full implications of Han Rui’s words began to sink in. If these tablets were introduced to the world, the sprawling Sacred Martial World would feel far smaller—connected in ways they had never imagined. A new era, indeed.

“Rui’er,” Xianlong began gravely, his face darkening, “I don’t believe our clan can bear the responsibility of introducing such a treasure to the world. Forget the other clans of Celestial Ridge or the nosy sects around us—if the larger sects, merchant guilds, or those demonic factions catch wind of this, we’ll face calamity. We don’t have the resources or the strength to fend off such forces.”

“I agree, Grandfather,” Han Rui replied with a calm nod, his ever-present smile unwavering. “But this is also a tremendous opportunity. Haven’t you wondered why I insisted that none of the merchant guilds you established operate under the clan’s name? It was precisely for situations like this.”

“What are you saying, Rui’er?” Xianlong asked, his brows furrowed.

“As you said, the patriarchs and grand elders of various sects will be visiting us soon. We all know they’re coming to investigate our clan’s meteoric rise. This is the perfect chance to provide them with an answer—and to divert their attention away from us.”

“Young master,” one elder interjected, his voice tinged with curiosity, “do you intend to use one of these guilds as our ‘mysterious backer’?”

Han Rui nodded.

“But what if they dig deeper? Won’t they eventually discover the truth?” the elder asked, only to trail off as realization struck him.

“They won’t find anything,” Han Rui assured them. “Not even the leaders of those guilds know they’re working for us. Apart from the people in this room—and a select few absent members—no one knows. If they investigate, it’s even better for us. All they’ll uncover is…”

“More guilds,” the elders murmured in unison, their eyes widening.

Han Rui chuckled softly. He had never been more grateful for the concept of shell companies.

“But, young master,” another elder began, “how do you plan to sell these tablets? Can ordinary people truly afford them?”

“And what about the prestigious clans and sects?” a different elder added. “They won’t want to use something so easily accessible to the common folk.”

“Convincing them will be even harder,” another chimed in. “They’d scoff at the idea that your tablet could outperform their expensive communication arrays.”

All eyes turned to Han Rui, waiting for his response. His confidence remained unshaken.

“You’re all making valid points,” he said with a nod. “Here’s the plan: the tablets will be affordable. No, not just affordable—they’ll be dirt cheap.”

A wave of murmurs swept through the room.

“Young master,” one elder exclaimed, “wouldn’t that result in a significant loss?”

Han Rui shook his head. “Not at all. There are other ways to generate profit. For instance, consider the transmission between Elder Yating and me. Ignoring sound transmission talismans—which couldn’t even achieve a fraction of what the tablet does—most treasures would consume vast amounts of spirit stones or similar resources to sustain a communication like that. And that’s for voice only. Add the projection, and even the wealthiest sects might face bankruptcy.”

The room fell silent again as the implications settled over the elders like a heavy fog.

Han Rui paused, his gaze sweeping across the elders and his grandfather, all of whom listened with rapt attention.

“We’ll generate most of our profits through subscriptions,” he began, his voice calm but brimming with confidence. “Mortals and cultivators will pay in spirit stones or coins for each transmission—whether it’s voice, video, or both. We’ll offer tiered packages: one for messaging, another for voice transmissions, a third for projections, and combinations that include two or more of these services. Each subscription will last a month.”

The hall fell as silent as a graveyard. The elders stared blankly, their minds racing. By pricing the tablets at an affordable—or even dirt-cheap—rate, Han Rui ensured widespread adoption. Without significant upfront investment, more people would be tempted to try it. Yet, such a low price might alienate prestigious sects and clans, who might see it as beneath them. On the other hand, a subscription-based model was revolutionary, promising a steady stream of revenue far beyond the initial sale—a concept none of them had ever imagined.

“The tablet still isn’t useless without a subscription, though,” Han Rui broke the silence, his voice calm but firm.

“Rui’er,” Xianlong asked, his tone grave, “what if a formation master—or anyone, really—figures out how it works and starts making their own?”

Han Rui chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Grandfather, I’d love to see someone try. Seriously, good luck to them—they’ll need it.” His confidence was so infectious that Xianlong couldn’t help but crack an embarrassed smile.

“Young master,” Elder Zhiyong interjected, “I understand everything you’ve said so far, and I agree with your reasoning. But I can’t help feeling there’s more you haven’t shared yet. Am I right?”

Han Rui’s grin widened. “I’m glad you’re paying attention, Elder Zhiyong. You’re absolutely correct. Please, everyone, gather around—I’ll explain how the tablet works.”

The elders exchanged uncertain glances before crowding around Han Rui’s seat. Wasting no time, he began describing the tablet’s features: apps, messaging, voice calls, and video calls.

“Grandfather,” Han Rui said suddenly, “could you stand over there?” He gestured toward a pillar a few feet away.

“Uh… sure, but why?” Xianlong asked, his brow furrowed.

“I want to demonstrate another function of the tablet. It’ll only take a moment,” Han Rui replied with a mischievous smile.

Xianlong sighed, exchanging another glance with the elders before disappearing and reappearing at the designated pillar. “Is this okay?” he asked, his tone wary.

Han Rui raised the tablet, pointing it toward Xianlong. A sudden flash emitted from the device, eliciting gasps and murmurs of astonishment from the gathered elders.

What is he doing this time? Xianlong thought, shifting uncomfortably. Why do I suddenly feel shy?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he reappeared at Han Rui’s side. “What was that all about?”

Han Rui turned the tablet’s screen toward his grandfather. Xianlong froze. Staring back at him was his own image, captured with stunning clarity and detail.

“Is… is that me?” Xianlong whispered, his voice laced with disbelief. He instinctively reached for the tablet, and Han Rui handed it over without hesitation.

“It is, Grandfather,” Han Rui said, his grin turning playful. “You’re quite handsome, if I do say so myself.”

Xianlong’s eyes were wide as saucers. “This… this is incredible. Not even a master painter could create something like this—not so quickly or with such detail.”

“That’s called a picture, Grandfather,” Han Rui explained, clearly enjoying his grandfather’s reaction. “The tablet can also record videos. Unlike video calls, which happen in real time, videos let you capture a moment to revisit whenever you like. Here, swipe right.”

Still entranced, Xianlong swiped as instructed. Moving images appeared on the screen—himself standing at the pillar.

“Heavens!” he gasped as his own voice echoed from the device.

The elders stared at the tablet, their faces a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“With this,” one elder muttered, “there would be no need to carry bulky cultivation manuals or tomes anymore.”

“Forget that,” another chimed in, eyes gleaming with excitement. “With videos, learning techniques would be so much easier. No more begging or bribing the ancestor to demonstrate them repeatedly!”

The possibilities swirled in their minds, growing with each passing moment. A new world was unfolding before them—one they hadn’t even dreamed of.

“I can finally take pictures of all my wives and admire them later,” an elder blurted out, lost in his thoughts.

Silence fell as everyone turned to Elder Zhiyong. Realizing what he had said, he cleared his throat, his face flushing red. “I-I mean, I can take pictures of… um… the fishes I’ve always wanted to show my wives.”

Everyone stared at him blankly.

“I swear that’s what I meant,” Elder Zhiyong pleaded, his tone desperate. But the knowing glances from the other elders betrayed their disbelief. “Young master, you believe me, right?”

Han Rui coughed lightly, hiding a smirk. “Yeah, so, moving on. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. While the call and video call functions will require subscriptions, there won’t be any subscriptions for taking pictures or recording videos.”

The elders’ gazes sharpened, sensing a twist. I smell a “but” coming, they all thought.

“But,” Han Rui continued, “while there are no restrictions on the number of pictures or videos you can take, there’s limited storage space. If users don’t want to delete their favorite memories, they’ll need to purchase additional storage—on the cloud.”

Confusion twisted their faces.

“The Cloud?” Xianlong questioned, his brow furrowed. “You can buy space on a cloud?”

Han Rui coughed awkwardly, momentarily forgetting who his audience was. “I misspoke. I meant additional storage space.”

“Young master,” Elder Qianyu began, his tone cautious, “the tablet’s features are beyond extraordinary, especially this… picture and video function. But cultivators are naturally wary. Many would assume this is a ploy to steal their secret techniques or manuals.”

Several elders nodded in agreement. However, the calm smile on Han Rui’s face reassured them. It was clear he had anticipated this.

“Elder Qianyu, you make a valid point,” Han Rui said. “But ask yourself this: why would someone capable of creating such an item care about what any sect in this realm has to offer?”

The room fell silent. None of them had an answer. Though the tablet resembled a polished slab of jade, its capabilities far surpassed even some immortal-ranked treasures. And Han Rui hadn’t even revealed all of its secrets yet.

“Now,” Han Rui said, his smile growing shadier, “it’s time to talk about our biggest money maker.”

[Are you seriously going to keep calling it a tablet?]

Han Rui flinched at the sudden interruption. Not now. Go away. Can’t you see I’m busy? he shot back mentally.

[Seriously? “Tablet”? That’s the best name you could come up with? It’s cringey.]

Han Rui hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. What’s wrong with it?

[Everything. Absolutely everything. No wonder you were selling drugs before this.]

“That’s a low blow, man,” Han Rui muttered under his breath.

[You earned it. Now, do you want a real name?]

Han Rui sighed. Fine. What do you suggest, smartass?

[QiPhone.]

Han Rui froze. Damn it. That’s so much better than… tablet. He winced internally. What was I even thinking?

[You weren’t. That’s why I’m here. Can you believe a guy like you came from the birthplace of marketing and memes? What would you even do without me?]

Han Rui took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the system’s triumphant laughter. The notification faded, and he turned back to his grandfather and the elders, his face slightly flushed.

“As I was saying,” Han Rui repeated, though his previous confidence seemed to falter, “it’s time to discuss our biggest money maker.”

He pointed to one of the apps displayed on the screen. “Everyone, allow me to introduce: Swipe Right for Enlightenment!”