Tharz Kingdom, located at its eastern region, Coldwind City.
There, atop the renowned Phoenix-Soul Pavilion, the wind stirred with silk banners gilded in golden thread, embroidered with the Fang clan's sigil: a soaring raven entwined with lightning.
Below was a garden of jade lilies and crimson peonies spread out, maintained for this very occasion.
Fang Yuan turned thirty today.
And yet, it was not the scent of blooming flowers or warm incense that filled the air for him.
It was tension and only tension.
"The Four Great Families have arrived," a servant whispered, bowing low.
Fang Yuan stood by the edge of the terrace, hands folded behind his back.
His black robes fluttered lightly, embroidered in deep violet sigils only a cultivator of the Golden Core Realm was allowed to wear.
"Let them in," he said.
Today was not just a day to celebrate his thirtieth birthday, no, it was also a day of performance.
To show how stable his family had become under his direct reign and also prove that his family was eligible to stand shoulder to shoulder with the great four families now.
From the marble steps came four figures, each followed by their entourage of cultivators in robes bearing the marks of their respective clans, He, Zhao, Lin, and Wu.
Four pillars of Coldwind City.
Four aged lions who had lived longer than Fang Yuan had lived.
He cupped his fists politely.
"Senior He, senior Zhao, senior Lin, senior Wu… I am honored."
Senior He, an old man with beard as while as snow, of the He Clan, chuckled first.
"Fang Yuan, young man, Thirty already? Time flies like a soaring crane. If your father were here, he'd be proud."
"Indeed," said senior Zhao, his beard also as white as snow, with eyes sharper than blades.
"You've even done well. The Fang Clan has flourished under your... energetic leadership, even surpassing what your father could have achieved when he was alive."
Each word was dipped in honey and laced with poison.
Their smiles were wide, and words sweet, but their intents remained bitter and poisonous.
Fang Yuan smiled back, unfazed by their deliberate mentions of his deceased father. "I am merely walking the path laid before me by my father, I've a long way to go. If my humble progress impresses the four venerable families, then I am blessed."
They gave each other a glance and simply nodded.
Each one of these so-called 'guests' had, at one time or another, tried to undermine his rise.
There were dirty rumours, even attempts for assassinations.
There were even sneak attacks on trade routes the Fang Family take.
But none of such had ever succeeded to bring the Fang Family down. They kept rising and continued to do so for one reason.
Because Fang Yuan was not just a genius, he was a transmigrator from earth. He was not going to be outdone by a bunch of power hungry old man, at least he tried not to be.
Senior Lin stepped forward, his expression the very picture of grandfatherly delight.
"My Lin Clan offers a humble gift to mark this special day. A Blossoming Thunder Orchid, plucked from the peaks of Mount Skyhowl. It blooms only once every thirty years, much like the talent of a certain young clan head."
A servant in silver robes stepped forward, carefully holding a crystal case.
Within, nestled in velvet, lay the orchid.
Its petals shimmered with arcs of violet lightning dancing across their tips.
Indeed, it was a priceless treasure, literally in that it had no other use than to look pretty.
Fang Yuan's smile didn't twitch. "The Lin Clan's generosity is boundless. I shall plant it in the east courtyard and tend to it personally."
"Good, good!" Senior Lin nodded, his long sleeves swaying as if applauding himself. "Treat it gently. It dislikes harsh wind… or betrayal."
Across the garden, the other seniors chuckled politely.
Senior Wu clapped his hands, summoning a servant carrying a heavy lacquered box.
"We, of the Wu Clan, thought a more practical gift would suit. A furnace from the Ember-Heart Monastery, capable of tempering third-grade pills."
"How thoughtful," Fang Yuan said with a slight bow.
"I wonder what the Wu Clan connection has with the Ember-Heart Monastery. But regardless, this treasure will be very helpful."
He turned, eyes sharp like a blade just sheathed.
Senior Zhao quickly raised a cup of wine as he said, "To our fifth family… May Coldwind's stars rise together, and may our harmony remain unbroken for another hundred years."
"Hear, hear," Senior He chimed in, already sipping.
The crowd, cultivators and merchant lords cheered, their laughter rose as servants bustled with wine.
Jade instruments were played gentle, melodies by the koi pond.
Everything sparkled with the golden hue of decorum.
It was perfect, way too perfect.
Fang Yuan raised his cup last.
"To Coldwind City," he said.
"May the roots of our five families intertwine for generations… and may no wind, however cold, uproot us. I'm grateful our Family can contribute as one of the five great families."
A beautiful lie.
The music softened while platters of spirit beast delicacies were brought out, lotus-steamed crane, cloud-braised boar, and shimmering blue carp that danced lightly in golden broth.
The banquet flowed like wine itself.
But Fang Yuan knew that a banquet could never end with peaceful procedure.
They were questions, whether regards his skills, or perhaps even his leadership... Or family secrets.
And soon, one arrived.
Senior Wu set down his wine cup, its surface still rippling from the motion.
His face wore a pleasant calm, but his eyes, coal-dark and calculating never left Fang Yuan.
"I've heard," Senior Wu began, voice smooth as aged tea, "that the Fang family's Spirit stone mines in the Eastern Ravine have flourished despite last winter's collapse. Remarkable, truly. My own family mines barely scrape by these days."
Fang Yuan offered a mild, polite smile. "Heaven provides in mysterious ways. We were fortunate that the mountain spirits were not angered."
"Mountain spirits you say, do you really believe in those? Still," Senior Wu continued, leaning in slightly, "your monthly output has increased threefold. Surely you've found some... technique?
A formation perhaps? Our two families are bound by alliance. We could prosper together if such methods were shared."
He raised his wine again in invitation.
Fang Yuan tilted his head, as if considering.
Then he laughed, soft, melodious, utterly disarming.
"Senior Wu flatters me far too much. If only the Fang family were so clever! In truth, the ravine's fortunes rose after a minor reshuffling of laborers and a particularly loyal stone-seeker we took in from the borderlands. An old man with half his teeth and twice the luck. He says the stones sing to him. Who am I to question heaven's favorite fool?"
The others chuckled. Senior Lin raised a brow, unconvinced.
"Surely it cannot be luck alone," Senior Zhao said, swirling his wine.
Fang Yuan turned toward him, expression composed.
"Then let it be the blessing of ancestral spirits," he said, lifting his cup.
"For if our mines are truly this fortunate, we shall offer incense to our ancestors twice a day instead of once."
Senior Wu's lips curved in something almost like amusement. "Truly, Young Master Fang is as skilled with words as with cultivation."
Fang Yuan inclined his head. "I merely follow the river's current, Elder Wu. Anything else would be arrogance."
The seniors exchanged a glance and silently nod to one another, the pressure eased, and the music picked up again.
And then, out of nowhere, Fang Yuan suddenly stood up as he yelled, "…What?"