Morning arrived in a flash, draping a thick fog over the Celestial Ridge. The Han Clan estate, however, buzzed with activity as flying mounts and shimmering treasures zipped through the skies, converging toward the grand hall. Clan members continued their morning routines, though curious children paused to watch the arrival of esteemed guests with wide eyes.

----------------------------------------

“Welcome, everyone. The Han Clan humbly greets you,” Xianlong announced cheerfully, his voice echoing through the unusually crowded hall. Draped in luxurious burnt-orange robes adorned with intricate dragon motifs, he exuded the wealth and authority befitting his position.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Patriarch Xianlong,” the guests echoed in unison.

The hall was meticulously arranged, with the visitors seated according to their mode of arrival, each receiving equal treatment. The elders of the Han Clan, also dressed in opulent attire, observed silently from their designated seats, their expressions unreadable. Servants hurriedly served exquisite wines and spirit fruits before retreating, though none of the guests partook. All eyes were locked on the dais where Xianlong stood.

An elderly man with drooping eyes rose from his seat, cupping his hands respectfully. “Patriarch Xianlong, forgive me, but… what is he doing here?” His gnarled finger pointed at Han Rui, seated casually near Xianlong.

Another elder stood, his tone equally critical. “We were under the impression that Han Wuchen would be here. Instead, we find the younger generation occupying a seat among us. What is the meaning of this?”

A middle-aged man remained seated but spoke with deliberate calm. “Patriarch Xianlong, with all due respect, isn’t it improper for someone so junior to be present in this gathering?”

Han Rui, sipping from his cup, seemed oblivious to the growing murmurs of dissent.

Xianlong’s expression darkened as he turned his gaze toward the middle-aged man. “Mingxuan, since when did the Zhu Clan gain the authority to dictate the affairs of the Han Clan?” His voice was cold, his hands clasped behind his back.

Mingxuan’s brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Xianlong raised a hand, silencing him. “Let’s dispense with pretenses,” Xianlong said, his tone sharper. “We all know why you’re here. Frankly, I’d rather end this charade quickly than waste time entertaining a pack of wolves.”

“Patriarch Xianlong, you go too far!” several voices roared, their faces flushed with indignation.

From his seat, Han Rui couldn’t help but smirk. Like father, like son. No, wait—if this were Great-Grandfather, he’d have kicked out the guy who pointed at me and cursed the rest of them for good measure.

His gaze swept the room, taking in the representatives from major clans and sects. A notable absence caught his attention. No one from the Eternal Spring Sect? A shame. They were probably the only ones with a genuine proposal, unlike the rest of these schemers.

He sighed, half-listening to the escalating exchange between Xianlong and the disgruntled guests. His musings were interrupted when a towering man in earthy brown robes stood. The sheer presence of the man stunned the room into silence, his broad shoulders and imposing aura commanding attention. Even Xianlong’s brows furrowed in appraisal.

Who is this? Xianlong thought. He’s not from any sect in this region. Did he come from further out?

The man cupped his hands and inclined his head slightly. “Patriarch Xianlong, I am Chang Xiao of the Far Night Grotto. Allow me to say that I appreciate your candor.”

Far Night Grotto? Xianlong’s gaze narrowed. He wasn’t alone—every cultivator in the hall exchanged uncertain glances. None had succeeded in gauging Chang Xiao’s cultivation base.

“Far Night Grotto?” Xianlong echoed. “Where is that?”

Chang Xiao offered a thin smile. “A remote and insignificant place, Patriarch Xianlong,” he said smoothly. “Yet even in our distant corner, the miraculous revival of the Han Clan has been a hot topic of discussion. On behalf of the Supreme Lord of the Night, I offer heartfelt congratulations. Your leadership is truly worthy of being recorded for future generations to admire.”

“Enough with the flattery,” Xianlong interrupted, his patience wearing thin. “Speak plainly. What do you want?”

Chang Xiao chuckled softly, his calm demeanor unshaken. “I admire your directness, Patriarch. I cannot speak for the others, but the Far Night Grotto has a particular interest in learning how the Han Clan achieved its revival. After all, unsavory rumors have begun to spread about your illustrious clan.”

Xianlong’s gaze turned icy, his voice low and deliberate. “What rumors?”

Chang Xiao shook his head slowly, his expression pained. “It’s not my place to say. I dare not disrespect the Han Clan, whom I so deeply admire,” he said, pausing as though wrestling with himself. Then, with a heavy sigh, he continued, “But if I must—solely to set the record straight—rumors have been circulating. They’re the whispers of low lives, of course, but they claim the Han Clan’s miraculous revival stems from… dabbling in demonic practices.”

A suffocating wave of qi exploded from Xianlong and the Han Clan elders, their rage distorting their features.

“Patriarch Xianlong, what is the meaning of this?” Several cultivators stood at once, their voices sharp with indignation. “Do you intend to intimidate your guests?”

“Now, now,” Chang Xiao said, raising his hands in mediation. “Let’s not lose our tempers. Such esteemed figures naturally respond strongly to baseless accusations. Surely, Patriarch Xianlong will provide a response that puts these vile rumors to rest.”

From his seat, Han Rui watched Chang Xiao with growing amusement, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. This bastard is enjoying every moment.

Chang Xiao bowed slightly; his demeanor unshaken. “Patriarch Xianlong, I yield the floor to you.” Then, he returned to his seat, his gaze lingering on the Han patriarch.

The hall grew still as all eyes turned to Xianlong. Though no one voiced it, there was a palpable sense of relief at Chang Xiao’s presence. After all, uncovering the Han Clan’s secret was precisely why they had come.

Han Rui coughed softly, drawing the crowd’s attention. Slowly, he rose, becoming the room’s unexpected focal point.

“Grandfather,” he said calmly, his voice measured, “perhaps it’s best we provide our guests with a satisfactory answer.”

An emissary immediately scoffed. “Boy, this is no place for you to speak! You shouldn’t even be here!”

Han Rui didn’t so much as glance at the man. His gaze remained fixed on Xianlong, who sighed, his rage ebbing as his features returned to their usual composure.

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Xianlong said, retreating to his seat. The elders followed suit, though the oppressive tension lingered.

Murmurs rippled through the room, discontent brewing among the assembled guests. Some eyed Han Rui with open disdain, while others sought to intimidate him, annoyed that a junior would be entrusted with such a critical matter.

Han Rui cupped his fists and bowed slightly. “Greetings, esteemed guests. My name is Han Rui—”

“We know who you are!” an elder snapped, his frustration directed at Xianlong. “This is absurd! Xianlong, do you mean to insult us by allowing a mere junior to speak on such a matter? Especially when your clan’s reputation hangs in the balance?”

Han Rui smiled faintly, unfazed. “Elder Longwei, your Song Clan has its own ways. Are you suggesting you should dictate how the Han Clan conducts its affairs?”

The elder’s face darkened. He hadn’t expected such boldness from a junior. “Fine,” he growled through clenched teeth. “If this is the Han Clan’s decision, so be it. But as your guest pointed out earlier, we expect a satisfactory answer.”

Han Rui tilted his head, a look of confusion crossing his face. “An answer to what?”

Gasps of disbelief filled the hall.

“Brat! Do you think this is some kind of game?”

“What impudence! Xianlong, is this truly how the Han Clan treats its guests?”

“If this farce continues, I’ll take my leave rather than suffer such disrespect!”

The complaints mounted, yet Xianlong and the other Han elders remained impassive, their silence an unspoken signal.

“Esteemed guests,” Chang Xiao interjected smoothly, rising to his feet. “I urge you to maintain decorum. It would be unseemly for cultivators of our stature to act unruly in our host’s hall. Young Master Han Rui surely means no harm. Let’s hear him out.”

Han Rui met Chang Xiao’s gaze, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Ah, you know about me too.”

“Of course,” Chang Xiao said, nodding. “You’re the Son of the Valiant Dragon. Who hasn’t heard of your scholastic brilliance?”

Han Rui inclined his head slightly. “For someone from an ‘insignificant place,’ you seem remarkably well-informed about me and my family.”

Chang Xiao’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “A little research can go a long way in this world, Young Master.”

Han Rui chuckled softly. “That’s true. I’d like to know more about your Far Night Grotto as well, but that’s a conversation for another time.”

“Enough!” Song Longwei bellowed, slamming his fist against the armrest of his chair. “Xianlong, will you provide a proper answer, or is this how the Han Clan shows its disdain for its guests?”

Han Rui shifted his gaze to the irate elder, his tone steady. “Elder Longwei—”

“Silence!” Longwei barked, his patience snapping. “You’re too young to be here, let alone to speak to me. Go back to your books or whatever it is you do. Leave matters of cultivation to your betters!”

All eyes shifted back to Xianlong and the elders, who remained impassive, their expressions unreadable. Their silence stood in stark contrast to Han Rui, who chuckled softly, his radiant smile a deliberate provocation.

“Elder,” Han Rui began, his voice laced with politeness, “why does my family owe you—or anyone else here—an explanation? Is it because of baseless rumors? If that’s your reasoning, then surely your Song Clan owes us an explanation as well.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Longwei snapped, his frown deepening.

“Oh, come now,” Han Rui continued, his tone playful but cutting. “Surely you’ve heard the rumors about your patriarch harvesting the essence of little—”

“Shut up!” Longwei roared, surging to his feet as his qi flared menacingly. “You dare insult my family?”

Xianlong and the elders reacted instantly, forming a protective barrier around Han Rui, their expressions cold and unyielding.

“What’s wrong, Elder Longwei?” Han Rui asked, feigning innocence. “I’m merely repeating rumors that circulate freely. Shouldn’t misunderstandings like these be clarified to protect your clan’s reputation? Or am I missing something?”

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Longwei’s white goatee swayed with his mounting fury, but he remained silent, his seething rage palpable.

Han Rui turned his attention to the other guests, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “Every single person here represents a clan or sect that’s been plagued by unfounded rumors. How many times has my family demanded explanations from you?”

An uneasy silence settled over the hall, punctuated only by the grinding of teeth and the simmering gazes directed at Han Rui.

Chang Xiao rose again, his chuckle soft yet unsettling. “Young Master Han Rui—”

“You,” Han Rui interrupted, his brows furrowing. “Who even are you? Can anyone here vouch that your ‘Far Night Grotto’ isn’t some shadowy demonic faction intent on sowing discord among the sects and clans of the Celestial Ridge? What if you’re plotting to destabilize them before infiltrating their ranks?”

“Young Master,” Chang Xiao replied, his calm smile unwavering, “aren’t you being a touch extreme? While it’s true that our sect operates in relative obscurity, that is merely due to our remote location. Should there be any doubts, the alchemist and talisman associations within the city can vouch for our legitimacy.”

“Legitimacy?” Han Rui smirked, unimpressed.

“But,” Chang Xiao pressed on, his tone growing sharper, “this isn’t about my Grotto. It’s about your Han Clan. While secrecy is a necessary part of cultivation for all of us, your clan’s recent actions are... deeply suspicious. Your sudden influx of wealth is one thing—perhaps that can be attributed to sound business acumen. But how do you explain the unprecedented revitalization of your clan’s cultivation prowess? To surpass so many other sects and clans in such a short time is beyond suspicious; it defies reason.”

“It’s true!” Longwei interjected, eager to regain the upper hand. “No one, not even the Blazing Spear Sect, can dominate the Rising Dragon competition for twelve consecutive years. And yet your clan has. Such results are simply impossible!”

Another elder chimed in. “Not to mention your refusal to allow your talented members to be taken as disciples by other sects. What are you trying to hide?”

One after another, voices rose, each elder adding to the growing storm of allegations. The pretense of civility was now entirely abandoned, and the atmosphere turned hostile.

“Young Master Han Rui,” Chang Xiao said, his tone measured but firm, “after hearing the concerns voiced by everyone here, do you still believe we have no right to demand answers? I want to believe that a clan capable of producing a hero like the Valiant Dragon would never stoop to demonic practices. But desperation can drive even the most honorable to unthinkable acts.”

He bowed deeply, “Please, offer us a satisfactory explanation.”

Han Rui’s smile widened. “And what, pray tell, would you consider a satisfactory explanation?”

Chang Xiao straightened; his calm demeanor unwavering. “I cannot speak for everyone, but I believe transparency is key. If the Han Clan were to disclose the exact methods and techniques used to achieve this remarkable resurgence—backed by irrefutable evidence—it would surely dispel any doubts.”

“And if we refuse?” Han Rui asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

The hall bristled as sharp glares from the gathered elders fell upon Han Rui and his family.

Chang Xiao chuckled again; his voice soft but clear. “Young Master, no one here can force you to do anything. We are not common bandits. But if you choose silence, I fear the consequences. In the absence of truth, lies often take root, spreading like wildfire. I trust the Han Clan will make the right decision.”

He bowed once more and returned to his seat, his demeanor calm but his words heavy with implication.

Han Rui watched him carefully, his smile growing brighter. This guy is good. Really, really good.

[You sound impressed.]

I won’t even lie. I am, Han Rui admitted internally.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said aloud, his voice slicing through the tension. “You’re suggesting that we reveal our cultivation manuals and techniques to satisfy your suspicions. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I didn’t say that, Young Master,” Chang Xiao replied with a thin smile. “But if that’s how you choose to interpret it, and if such transparency would satisfy the esteemed elders here, I wouldn’t oppose it. Shameless as it may sound, we must confirm that your clan members aren’t unknowingly practicing demonic techniques. None of us would want to see such a tragedy occur.”

The surrounding elders turned their attention to Chang Xiao, many taking mental notes, their gazes heavy with thought.

Han Rui sighed suddenly, shaking his head. “Indeed, I see your point.”

The elders' expressions shifted instantly, surprise replacing suspicion. Even Chang Xiao’s brow furrowed briefly, caught off guard by the unexpected response.

Han Rui continued; his voice low yet audible to all. “If the Han Clan were found practicing demonic techniques, it would disgrace not only us but the prestigious clans and sects of the region. Such a failure under their watch would tarnish their honor.”

Turning to Xianlong, Han Rui’s voice softened. “Grandfather, I’m afraid we can’t hide it anymore. We must reveal the truth.”

Xianlong’s face hardened, his gaze sweeping the room as tension thickened. At last, he nodded, his tone somber. “I always knew this day would come. So be it. We cannot keep this to ourselves any longer. Tell them, Rui’er.”

A wave of confusion rippled through the hall. The elders exchanged uncertain glances, their suspicion momentarily giving way to bewilderment. Even Chang Xiao appeared uncharacteristically at a loss, his gaze flitting between Han Rui and Xianlong.

Before anyone could speak, Han Rui reached into his inner robe, retrieving a strange, perfectly cut jade slab.

“What... is that?” Chang Xiao wondered aloud; his curiosity evident.

Han Rui held the object aloft, his tone grave. “Esteemed guests, with my grandfather’s permission—and the honor of your sects and clans at stake—I have no choice but to reveal the secret behind our clan’s resurgence. Behold... the QiPhone!”

“QiPhone?” The word echoed through the hall as elders leaned forward, their eyes narrowing at the peculiar jade object. The Han elders, meanwhile, wore expressions of resignation, as though mourning the loss of a closely guarded secret.

“Do you expect us to believe that some finely cut jade is the source of your success?” Longwei scoffed; his voice thick with derision.

Han Rui turned to him, unfazed. “Elder Longwei, you possess spiritual senses, do you not? Why not use them?”

Longwei’s cheeks reddened faintly as soft chuckles rippled through the room. Without another word, the elders collectively extended their spiritual senses toward the jade slab.

The room fell into stunned silence as shock overtook them. The QiPhone defied their senses, rejecting their attempts to probe its essence. Worse, their effort to delve deeper threatened to overwhelm their minds, forcing them to retreat hastily. Even the most seasoned cultivators among them could not suppress their astonishment.

“What... is this thing?” one elder muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chang Xiao broke the silence, his composure visibly shaken. “Young Master Han Rui, what exactly does this QiPhone do? How could it possibly be responsible for the rise of your clan?”

“To list everything it can do would take far too long,” Han Rui replied, his tone measured. “Instead, let me begin with its most basic feature. Believe it or not, this treasure surpasses every sound transmission talisman, communication array, and spirit tool your clans and sects rely on.”

Skepticism rippled through the room.

“You can prove this claim, I assume?” Chang Xiao pressed; his gaze sharp.

“Of course,” Han Rui said confidently. “But whether you’ll accept it is another matter entirely.” He turned to Longwei. “Elder, would you summon one of your attendants for a demonstration?”

Longwei frowned, immediately suspicious of Han Rui’s choice. The rivalry between the Han and Song clans was no secret. Nevertheless, he retrieved a paper talisman from his space ring, whispered a command into it, and watched it burn. Moments later, the great doors of the hall swung open, and a gallant man clad in white robes bearing the Song Clan’s insignia entered.

“What now?” Longwei asked tersely.

“Have him step forward. I need to speak with him,” Han Rui said.

Longwei gestured, and the attendant obeyed, approaching Han Rui. A qi barrier flickered into place around them, shielding their conversation. Though none of the other elders could hear their exchange, they noted the attendant’s expression shifting from confusion to disbelief as Han Rui spoke. Finally, Han Rui handed him the QiPhone, and the barrier dissolved.

“Elder, I neither have the right nor the will to send your subordinate to a distant location without permission. However, if you allow it, he will be transported to the Scattered Mountains outside the Celestial Ridge using our family’s minor teleportation array. He will also receive a return array to ensure his safe passage back,” Han Rui explained calmly.

Longwei’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is this supposed to prove?”

“The Scattered Mountains are over ten thousand miles away from the Celestial Ridge,” Han Rui replied, his tone unwavering. “No standard transmission talisman, regardless of quality, would function at such a distance. Yet the QiPhone will. Do I have your permission, Elder?”

All eyes turned to Longwei, the weight of silent expectation pressing down on him from the gathered elders.

“Fine,” Longwei conceded, his tone laced with warning. “But this better work. And you had better not dare mistreat my subordinate.”

Han Rui merely nodded, whispering a few instructions to the gallant man, who then left the hall under the watchful gazes of the curious cultivators.

“What exactly is this supposed to prove?” Zhu Mingxuan interjected, skepticism plain in his tone. “You’ve sent away the—” His words faltered as Han Rui casually pulled a second QiPhone from his robes.

“Please, elders, be patient. All will be clear soon,” Han Rui said, forcing a polite smile.

Moments passed in tense silence. Then, a strange sound, akin to the wailing of an otherworldly beast, filled the hall. The QiPhone in Han Rui’s hand began to vibrate, its surface lighting up with a strange icon.

“Perfect timing,” Han Rui murmured as he tapped the icon.

“This is me, Young Master. I just arrived at the Scattered Mountains!” a clear voice echoed through the hall.

The elders froze in stunned silence before Longwei roared, “Haoran! You’d better not be lying to me! Are you truly there?”

“Elder, I wouldn’t dare deceive you,” Haoran replied, his voice steady. “I’m indeed at the Scattered Mountains.”

Han Rui cleared his throat. “Haoran, proceed with the task I mentioned. It should clear Elder Longwei’s doubts.”

With a subtle motion, Han Rui turned the QiPhone’s screen toward the elders. The once-dark surface shifted, revealing a live feed of Haoran standing amidst a misty region filled with towering rocks and dense vegetation.

“This… this is impossible!” one elder exclaimed, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“That’s unmistakably the Scattered Mountains,” another confirmed, his tone subdued.

“Forget the location!” a third interjected. “What sort of sorcery is this? Not only can we hear him, but we can see him as well. This goes beyond mere formations or spirit tools!”

The elders’ collective gaze snapped back to Han Rui, their expressions a mix of shock and incomprehension. Despite their probing, they could detect no spirit stones, arrays, or power sources maintaining the connection.

“But… how?” one elder murmured, dazed. “How is this even possible? It’s not using spirit stones to sustain itself…”

Han Rui allowed himself a small, triumphant smile. “I trust this demonstration is sufficient to support my claims.” Turning back to the screen, he addressed Haoran, “Thank you. You may return now. Don’t forget to complete the task I gave you before leaving.”

Haoran nodded, and the screen went dark. Moments later, the doors to the hall swung open, and Haoran reentered with confident strides. Bowing to Elder Longwei, he handed the QiPhone back to Han Rui, though he did not depart.

Han Rui held up the QiPhone again, its screen facing the elders. He opened an app labeled Storage, and gasps rippled through the room. Displayed prominently was Haoran’s portrait, clearly taken moments ago in the Scattered Mountains. Even more astonishing was the live version of the image, complete with sound, as though an illusionary formation were recreating the scene in real-time.

The hall fell into stunned silence.

“This…” one elder whispered, his voice barely audible. “This is beyond comprehension.”

Without hesitation, Han Rui began to elaborate. He explained the concepts of messaging, calling, video calling, photos, videos, storage, and applications. Yet, he deliberately avoided detailing their specific uses, knowing that the astute minds of the gathered elders would grasp the implications on their own.

As the elders exchanged incredulous glances, the weight of what they had witnessed began to settle. The Han Clan’s meteoric rise now seemed far less mysterious—and far more terrifying. Yet, they felt something was still missing.

Then Han Rui gestured to one of the many colorful icons on the QiPhone’s home screen. It displayed bold, gleaming characters: Swipe Right for Enlightenment.

“This, esteemed elders, is the primary reason behind the Han Clan’s revitalization,” Han Rui announced, his voice brimming with pride. “And as always, actions speak louder than words. Is anyone here willing to volunteer?”

The hall fell silent. The elders exchanged wary glances, none daring to step forward. Finally, Haoran broke the stillness. As the only other junior in the room, he felt uniquely suited for the task.

“Young Master, I’ll volunteer. What do I need to do?”

Han Rui nodded approvingly, but his gaze quickly dropped to Haoran’s fingers. His brows furrowed in disapproval. “You don’t have a space ring?”

Haoran blinked, confused. “I’m sorry, but… what does that have to do with anything, Young Master?”

“This won’t work without money,” Han Rui declared matter-of-factly, his voice echoing through the hall.

Haoran hesitated, then reached into his robes and retrieved a small, well-worn brown pouch. The soft clinking of coins drew Han Rui’s attention, and his eyes lit up.

“Oh, a dimensional bag instead! That’s excellent,” Han Rui said, his tone shifting to excitement. “I assume you have money in there?”

“I do,” Haoran admitted, though he held the pouch close. “But… how much will this cost?”

Han Rui shrugged. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. It depends entirely on your enlightenment.” He gestured for Haoran to come closer. “Here’s what you need to do…”

The elders leaned in as Han Rui gave detailed instructions. This time, neither Xianlong nor the other elders activated a qi barrier; they wanted everyone to witness the entire process.

Moments later, Haoran stood in the center of the hall, gripping the QiPhone tightly. He took a deep breath, acutely aware of the intense gazes fixed on him. With a steady hand, he tapped the colorful Swipe Right for Enlightenment icon.

A flash of sharp, blinding light enveloped him, and the world shifted. The elders, Xianlong, Han Rui, even the grand hall—all of it vanished. Haoran now stood alone before a swirling, ethereal wall of text suspended in the void.

“Swipe right for enlightenment,” he muttered, reading the words aloud. Without hesitation, he made the swiping motion with his finger.

The text dissolved into motes of light, and suddenly, his dimensional bag shook violently in his hand. Coins and treasures within clinked and rattled as if a vortex had been unleashed inside. Before Haoran could comprehend the strange phenomenon, he found himself face-to-face with a doppelgänger—an idealized version of himself, radiating charisma and raw power.

This version of Haoran smirked confidently. “Prepare yourself,” the doppelgänger declared in a resonant voice. “I will now reveal the secrets of the Three Hundred Phantom Movement Technique, the ultimate art of the Song Clan.”

Haoran’s jaw dropped, his mind racing as the words sank in. “The Three Hundred Phantom Movement Technique? That’s a closely guarded secret! How—”

But the doppelgänger ignored his shock, seamlessly transitioning into a masterful demonstration of the technique. As Haoran watched, he could feel enlightenment pouring into his mind, each movement unlocking profound insights.

The elders in the hall sat stunned, watching Haoran remain frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth agape. Han Rui folded his arms smugly.

“Give it a moment,” he said. “It’s… a lot to process.”