The colossal bronze doors of the Zhou Family's ancestral hall groaned open, and a thunderous echo rolled through the courtyard. In that instant, light spilled out in waves, mingled with laughter, music, and the thick aroma of roasted delicacies.
Inside, the great banquet revealed itself.
Golden chandeliers hung like suns from the vaulted ceiling, their flames scattering fragments of brilliance across embroidered banners. Each banner bore the Zhou crest—dragons coiling in endless circles, watching the crowd with silent eyes. Tables stretched in every direction, laden with steaming dishes and rare wines that dazzled even the city's seasoned nobles.
Everywhere, there was clamor. Cups clinked together, laughter rose like tides, voices of rankers and aristocrats twisted into waves of pride. Yet beneath the splendor lay something colder, sharper.
This was not merely a celebration.
It was an exhibition of dominion.
Every guest present—whether ranker, noble, or merchant—was not here for food. They were threads in the net of Zhou influence. To appear here was to submit to the clan's unseen weight, to acknowledge the mountain that pressed upon the city.
At the far end of the hall, beneath ancestral banners stitched with fading gold, sat Zhou Tian. His figure was upright, eyes half-closed, yet his presence was like an immovable cliff. None dared speak loudly near him. Zhou Tian was not merely a father. He was Patriarch, and Patriarch was more than a man. He was a symbol. A chain binding generations.
The atmosphere rippled when another figure entered.
Zhou Fang.
Countless eyes swiveled toward him. Some shone with curiosity, most with disdain. Whispers flared at once, venomous and sharp.
"There… the so-called young master."
"Hah. Handsome perhaps, but without an Inner World he'll never be a ranker."
"Compared to his father and sisters, he's a burden. A hollow name."
Their words crawled across the air like worms, leaving slime wherever they touched.
Yet Zhou Fang walked as though he had not heard. His steps were unhurried, precise. His expression was a calm surface, concealing an abyss below.
They call me trash. They think inner universe is a gift of heaven, measured by the inner universe inside their body. But what is trash? Only clay unbaked. Only ore awaiting fire. It is the ignorant who cannot see that mud can hide gold, that the useless may one day eclipse the useful.
Fools. Their scorn is the noise of insects. And insects cannot comprehend the sky.
Emma, the artifact sprite, floated invisibly beside him. Her faint radiance shimmered like glass, unseen by mortal eyes.
"Fang," she whispered in a tone only he could hear, "why now? You usually avoid this hall. You hate speaking to your father. Why search him out tonight?"
Zhou Fang's lips curled slightly. "Because masks are worn tightest in feasts. Tonight, I tear one off. I need answers, and my father holds them."
The Dogs Bark
Before he could reach Zhou Tian, a young man stepped into his path. His cousin. His smile was bright, but it stank of malice.
"Brother Fang," he greeted loudly, drawing attention. "At last you appear. Late to your own birthday feast. Everyone feels insulted."
The cousin's voice lowered, but his eyes gleamed. "We all know the truth—you lack an Inner World. You cannot be a ranker. Perhaps you should attach yourself to others while you still can. Form ties, beg for crumbs. That way, you may at least survive."
He paused deliberately, then puffed out his chest. "Oh, I almost forgot—my awakening succeeded. A-Class talent. I will surely become a Tier-1A ranker in the future."
A buzz spread across the nearby guests.
"Another dragon in the Zhou Family?"
"We thought only Zhou Tian and his two daughters carried the clan's bloodline glory… But perhaps this one too."
"Hah! Unlike that useless Fang. The trash of the family."
Other cousins quickly gathered, eyes shining with contempt.
"Brother Fang, shouldn't you sit in the shadows? This stage is not yours."
"Yes, don't shame the family further."
"A man without an Inner World is like a bird without wings."
The words lashed at him like whips, but Zhou Fang's calm never broke. Instead, he spoke slowly, voice faint, yet every syllable carried the cold weight of iron.
"I do not waste time on barking dogs. Go howl together. My path is not walked with dogs, nor hindered by them."
His eyes swept past them, dismissing them as though they were stones on the road.
Let them rage. The fury of the powerless is proof of their impotence. When dogs bark, it is not courage but fear. When insects buzz, it is not strength but instinct.
The cousins' faces twisted with anger.
"Trash! You live only because of your father."
"When you enter the Academy, I will ensure you regret these words."
Their curses fell like stones into a bottomless well. Zhou Fang walked past them, his thoughts colder than the night sky.
Regret? I have never relied on regret. Regret is for the weak, who measure themselves by outcomes. A man of true will does not regret, for he acts only in accordance with necessity. If the world falters, I remain unchanged.
The Mountain and the Abyss
At last, Zhou Fang stood before the dais. Zhou Tian conversed with elders, discussing territories and alliances. But when Zhou Fang's voice cut through the noise—
"Patriarch."
—the hall shivered faintly.
The word was not "Father." It was "Patriarch." A title, cold and distant.
Zhou Tian turned, eyes falling on his son. For a heartbeat, surprise glimmered beneath his stony face. Then his voice came, calm but edged.
"Zhou Fang. You came. I have matters with you. Wait until this feast ends."
But Zhou Fang's gaze did not waver. His words came like cold blades:
"Patriarch, I have questions that cannot wait. Will you speak with me in private?"
Gasps rippled through the hall. A son demanding the patriarch abandon a banquet? Blasphemous.
Zhou Tian's eyes hardened, his tone like stone: "Later. Tonight's matters outweigh yours."
Zhou Fang did not flinch. His eyes pierced like needles through silk, voice slow and deliberate.
"Mother never died. She is still alive… isn't she?"
The air froze.
Musicians faltered. Laughter died. The elders' heads snapped toward them, their pupils contracting.
Shock cracked across Zhou Tian's face, as though struck by lightning. He inhaled sharply, his composure shattering for the first time in decades.
Silence devoured the hall.
Zhou Tian's lips parted, but no words came. At last, he turned to the elders, voice stiff and urgent.
"I will return shortly. Continue the feast."
He rose, robes flowing, and walked past the startled crowd. Zhou Fang followed, his expression unreadable, his eyes burning like a hidden flame.
Veil of the Unknown
The doors closed behind them, shutting out the banquet's noise. The night stretched around them, stars glimmering faintly. The moon was pale, its light falling like frost on their shoulders.
Zhou Tian stopped, turning with a face both furious and shaken. His voice trembled with restrained authority.
"Who told you this?"
Zhou Fang's eyes gleamed with cold fire. "No one. Lies, no matter how perfect, always leave cracks. A mask, worn too long, becomes heavier than truth. I saw the weight in your eyes. Tonight, I simply chose to name it."
Zhou Tian's fingers clenched behind his back. His breathing deepened. "You know not what you ask."
Zhou Fang's voice was quiet, but each word carried an abyss.
"On the contrary, Patriarch. I know exactly what I ask. Truth. Even if truth is poison, I will drink it. Lies are chains, and I was not born to crawl chained."
The silence between them thickened. The night seemed to lean closer, listening.
At that moment, there was no son and father.
Only a seeker and a keeper of secrets.
And the heavens themselves seemed to hold their breath.