Hengsheng leaned casually against the wall of his chamber, observing the elders entering with expressions ranging from icy disdain to faint curiosity. Elder Lan Xiang stood at the forefront, his hands clasped behind his back and his sharp gaze fixed on Hengsheng like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Lan Hengsheng," Elder Xiang began, his voice stern and commanding. "You dare to use your servant in a fight, violating the clan's rules of honorable conduct among juniors. Have you no shame?"

Hengsheng smiled lazily, as if completely unbothered by the accusation. "Elder Xiang, I would never intentionally dishonor the clan's rules. But surely you can understand—those juniors were getting… overconfident. Someone had to remind them of their place."

The elder’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance. “Do not try to twist this matter into a joke, Hengsheng. Your actions reflect poorly on the Lan Clan’s discipline.”

Hengsheng stepped forward, his demeanor calm but confident. “Elder Xiang, I acknowledge my mistake in handling the situation. That’s why I’ve prepared something to make amends—a contribution to the clan.”

The other elders exchanged wary glances, uncertain of what Hengsheng might be scheming. Lan Xiang narrowed his eyes. “Contribution? Do you think some trinket will erase your disrespect for the rules?”

“Oh, this isn’t just any ‘trinket,’” Hengsheng replied with a smirk. He clapped his hands, and Lan Ju entered with a stack of neatly bound scrolls. “I’ve created these—ten sword techniques, designed specifically for our clan’s cultivation methods. You’re welcome.”

The room fell silent. The air of righteous anger began to dissipate as curiosity overtook the elders.

“Sword techniques?” one elder murmured, stepping forward to inspect the scrolls.

Lan Xiang’s expression shifted, though he tried to maintain his stern facade. “You… created these?”

“Of course,” Hengsheng said nonchalantly, his tone laced with playful arrogance. “I had plenty of time during my… extended cultivation session. Consider this my way of proving my loyalty and making up for yesterday’s incident.”

One of the younger elders scoffed, his disbelief evident. “Stop your nonsense! How could a mere Qi Gathering cultivator even comprehend, let alone create, techniques?”

Hengsheng raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his smirk growing wider. Before the elder could continue, Lan Xiang held up a hand to silence him. Though skepticism flickered in his eyes, Lan Xiang’s composure didn’t waver. He stepped forward, unrolled one of the scrolls, and examined the contents closely.

The room grew tense as the other elders watched, their expressions a mixture of doubt and curiosity.

After a long pause, Lan Xiang cleared his throat. “Even so,” he said, his voice carefully measured, “your actions cannot go without consequence. The clan’s rules exist for a reason, Hengsheng. You must answer for your improper conduct.”

Hengsheng nodded, feigning humility as he replied, “I completely agree, Elder Xiang. A good scolding will suffice, don’t you think? Perhaps a lecture on proper conduct?”

Lan Xiang’s lips tightened, his displeasure evident. But the techniques were undeniably valuable, and he couldn’t ignore the murmurs of astonishment coming from the elders inspecting the scrolls. He was also aware of Hengsheng’s unusual nature, having witnessed the patriarch’s investigation into his heavenly tribulation.

“Very well,” Lan Xiang finally said, his tone grudging but firm. “Consider this a formal warning. You are to abide by the clan’s rules henceforth. Do not mistake leniency for weakness.”

“Understood, Elder Xiang,” Hengsheng replied with a shallow bow, his smirk now replaced with an exaggeratedly solemn expression. “I’ll ensure that the clan’s honor remains intact moving forward.”

Another elder, clearly dissatisfied, stepped forward and shouted, “But Elder Xiang! Hengsheng broke the rules blatantly. Should he not face a harsher punishment?”

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Lan Xiang turned sharply, his gaze like a blade. “Silence! I will make the final decision here. Unless you wish to question my judgment, you will let this matter rest.”

The elder recoiled slightly, his lips pursed in frustration, but he didn’t press further.

With the tension easing slightly, the group of elders began to depart, though many cast suspicious glances at Hengsheng before leaving.

Once alone in his chamber, Hengsheng straightened and let out a soft chuckle, his smirk returning. “Well, that went smoother than I expected,”

silence filled the room. Hengsheng exhaled deeply and leaned back against the door, his smirk returning.

“Well, that could’ve gone worse,” he muttered to himself. “At least I didn’t end up doing a hundred years of sweeping the clan grounds.”

The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow on his chamber. Lan Ju, ever dutiful, entered cautiously, carrying a tray of tea.

“Young Master,” she said, setting the tray down on a nearby table. “The elders seemed… less angry than I expected. Did everything go well?”

Hengsheng chuckled, walking over to pour himself a cup of tea. “Oh, Lan Ju, it’s not about how angry they are; it’s about what they can’t do. I gave them ten sword techniques. How could they punish me and lose face with such a treasure in their hands?”

Lan Ju hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. “But you still need to report to the designated gathering area tomorrow morning"

Hengsheng nodded, sipping his tea. “I know."

Lan Ju sighed. “I’ll prepare your travel gear and ensure everything is ready for tomorrow.”

“Good,” Hengsheng said, stretching his arms lazily. “I’ll spend the rest of the night cultivating. Tomorrow, we’re going to make a statement.”

As Lan Ju bowed and left the room, Hengsheng sat cross-legged on his cultivation mat. He closed his eyes, letting his mind settle into the familiar rhythm of meditation. Spiritual Qi began to flow through his veins, and the faint blue glow of his Spirit Core flickered within him.

The night passed quietly, and the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Outside, the Lan Clan grounds were alive with activity as young disciples prepared for their journey to the Metal Flow Plains Gathering.

Hengsheng opened his eyes, his aura steady and sharper than before. He stood up, donned his clan robes, and adjusted the black sash lined with golden embroidery—a mark of his main bloodline status.

Lan Ju was already waiting outside his chamber, holding a storage pouch filled with essentials. She bowed. “Young Master, everything is ready.”

“Good,” Hengsheng said, stepping out and surveying the bustling scene around him. He smirked. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Hengsheng began walking toward the gathering area, his steps light yet purposeful. Behind him, Lan Ju followed closely, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for anything unusual.

As they approached, the grand square of the Lan Clan came into view. It was a vast, open space bustling with activity, a stark contrast to the serene ambiance of the clan grounds. At the center of the square docked a massive skyship, its intricate golden engravings reflecting the morning sunlight. The sight alone was enough to inspire awe and a sense of anticipation.

Hundreds of young disciples, dressed in their respective clan robes, stood in neat lines. They were buzzing with murmurs of excitement and trepidation. Hengsheng’s arrival drew immediate attention.

He strolled casually toward the lines, his black robe with golden embroidery marking him as a main bloodline member. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“Isn’t that Lan Hengsheng? Why is he here?”

Hengsheng ignored the voices, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Let them wonder, he thought. He scanned the crowd and spotted familiar faces: Lan Xiaorong and Lan Baixing. Their expressions were a mixture of anger and humiliation, the lingering marks of their last encounter with him still visible on their faces.

The duo glared at Hengsheng, but neither dared to approach. It was clear they hadn’t forgotten his earlier display of dominance, and this wasn’t the place for petty disputes. Hengsheng’s smirk deepened as he deliberately locked eyes with them, sending a chill down their spines.

After a few moments, the chatter died down as a group of elders began to arrive, their imposing presence silencing the crowd. Among them, Hengsheng recognized the First Elder, Lan Mingzhi, who would be leading the gathering delegation. Lan Mingzhi stepped forward, his authoritative gaze sweeping over the young disciples.

“This gathering is an opportunity” Lan Mingzhi began, his deep voice echoing across the square. “Beyond our clan territory lies the Metal Flow Plains…."

The disciples listened attentively, the weight of his words settling over them.

“However,” the First Elder continued, his tone sharp, “remember this: we are stepping outside the safety of our territory. Do not disgrace our clan’s name. Avoid unnecessary conflict, especially with the disciples of the Golden Sword Sect. Their status as the continent’s overlords is not to be trifled with.”

Hengsheng noticed several disciples exchanging uneasy glances at the mention of the Golden Sword Sect.

Lan Mingzhi’s gaze hardened. “Now, board the skyship and prepare yourselves. The journey ahead will test not only your strength but your character.”

At his command, the disciples began filing onto the skyship in an orderly manner. Hengsheng, with Lan Ju close behind, moved toward the vessel, his smirk never fading.

As he stepped onto the grand skyship’s deck, he thought to himself, An opportunity, huh?