The Li Clan did not gather lightly.
To rule seventy billion lives across Lingyao Planet, every season, every ritual, every feast carried weight. The family was no hearth. It was a dynasty, an institution, a system.
When the summons came, the nursery pavilion stirred like a hive. Nursemaids dressed children in robes of silk dyed in branch colors. Li Heng's was deep green, embroidered with a golden crest — the mark of the main bloodline.
He was three years old. Small, unsteady, but sharp-eyed. And this would be his first time stepping into the hall where power itself resided.
The journey began at dusk.
A flying platform descended into the garden: jade the size of a courtyard, etched with sigils that pulsed faintly with qi. Nursemaids herded children aboard, attendants carrying scrolls to record even this simple passage. Guards in formation lined the edges, their armor glowing faintly with arrays.
The platform lifted in silence. Air rushed past, cool and sharp, as the garden shrank below.
Children squealed with fear and delight. Some clung to sleeves, others pointed and laughed.
Li Heng's hand gripped the railing. His heart thudded with awe, not childish but human. Suspension without wheels. No smoke, no noise. Balanced perfectly. Arrays regulate lift and stability. A system of flight — not miracle, but engineering.
The platform carried them across the estate.
Below, training fields pulsed with power. Soldiers stamped in perfect unison, their movements resonating with ripples of qi. Dozens moved as one, strength amplified beyond individuals.
Collective resonance, Li Heng thought. Qi synchronized like circuits in parallel. Efficiency through unity.
They passed alchemy halls, roofs venting fragrant smoke. Nursemaids covered their noses. Children gagged dramatically.
Li Heng inhaled, memorizing the bitter tang, the metallic bite. Controlled combustion. Refinement. Chemistry bent but not broken. Industrial-scale alchemy.
They passed tall towers lined with crystal panels, glowing faintly. Messages flickered between them like threads of light.
Communication arrays. Transmission across distances. A nervous system spanning continents. Control through information flow.
The Li Clan was no household. It was civilization itself.
The platform descended into the Grand Assembly Hall.
The hall was vast, its roof supported by black stone pillars engraved with thousands of ancestral names. Lanterns of jade floated in the air, glowing without flame. Arrays embedded in the floor resonated faintly, carrying every sound with clarity.
Children were seated together on one side. Adults filled the hall: uncles, aunts, cousins of higher age, branch leaders robed in colors that marked lineage.
The feast began.
Trays arrived: fruits pulsing faintly with qi, meats radiating warmth, bowls of soup that glowed softly. Even food here was cultivation.
"Eat slowly," nursemaids cautioned. "Spiritual foods strengthen, but too much burns."
Li Heng obeyed, chewing carefully. The flavors were sharp, foreign, alive. Nutrients fused with energy. Agriculture turned into spirit nourishment. A food chain engineered for cultivation.
Around him, children giggled, sharing sweets. Cousins whispered, some staring in awe at glowing lanterns. Li Heng chewed in silence, but his gaze swept the hall. Acoustics enhanced by arrays. Lanterns self-sustaining. A space for thousands, ordered, efficient. Function masked as splendor.
When the last trays were cleared, silence fell. Conversation dimmed, footsteps stilled. Even the floating lanterns seemed to bow, their light bending faintly.
Then he entered.
The Patriarch of the Li Clan.
His hair was silver, yet his back was straight as steel. His robes of black and gold rippled faintly, qi woven into every thread. His gaze, sharp as blades, swept the hall, and thousands lowered their heads as if mountains pressed upon their shoulders.
He did not sit. He did not eat. His place was not among them, but above them — as mountain above plain, as law above man.
He had no need to release his aura. His presence alone was weight enough. Breaths grew shallow. Even the children stilled, their chatter dying without command.
"You are heirs of the Li," he said. His voice was thunder, carried by arrays, reverberating in every chest. "But do not mistake that for privilege. To be Li is not comfort. It is burden."
He paused. The weight of silence pressed as heavy as his words.
"This planet bends to us not because we are the strongest, but because we are the most disciplined. Strength without order collapses. Talent without restraint destroys. Pride without loyalty kills."
The hall trembled with his voice.
"Others fight for themselves. We fight for the clan. Every breath you take, every step you walk, you carry our name. Forget that, and you are nothing. Remember that, and even death will not erase you."
His hand lifted, fingers curling like stone closing around steel.
"You will grow. You will learn. Some of you will lead, some of you will serve. But all of you will endure. And know this—"
His eyes swept to the rows of children. Even Li Heng, small as he was, felt that gaze pierce him.
"The Li do not endure because of blood alone. We endure because our will does not bend."
The hall erupted in unison, thousands of voices rising as one:
"For the clan! For Lingyao!"
---
The sound faded. The Patriarch turned and departed as silently as he had arrived.
Nursemaids gathered children to the platform. Adults spoke in low tones, recording words, preparing reports.
Li Heng remained still, the weight of the speech carved into his mind like lines into jade.
Strength without order collapses.
Talent without restraint destroys.
Pride without loyalty kills.
On Earth, he had seen companies fail, nations crumble, people waste themselves on arrogance. Here, the truth was sharper. Survival belonged not to the loudest, but to the most disciplined.
It was not mystery. It was system.
It was not poetry. It was law.
And in that moment, Li Heng understood:
If he was to survive — no, if he was to rise — he would need more than curiosity. He would need discipline, structure, unbending will.
The platform lifted again, carrying him back to the nursery. His cousins chattered, laughing, recounting sweet fruits and glowing lanterns. Li Heng said nothing. His small hand rested on the railing, eyes fixed on the vast estate below.
Others saw splendor. He saw system.
Others saw family. He saw empire.
And beneath it all, he carried the Patriarch's words like fire in his chest