With a single, sharp gesture from his father, the cacophony of the Ancestral Plaza died down. The kneeling disciples dared not even breathe too loudly in the presence of the Patriarch, Li Yuan.
"The Awakening Ceremony is concluded!" Li Yuan's voice boomed, imbued with a power that left no room for argument. "The elders will now distribute the clan's cultivation techniques according to your awakened roots. Disperse in an orderly fashion!"
An elder, his face lined with years of service, stepped forward, unrolling a long scroll. "Attention, disciples! Those with Mortal Roots, step forward to receive the 'Stone Crushing Fist Art'! A foundational technique to temper your bodies and build basic Qi."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces. "And for those blessed with Earth Roots, you will receive one of our clan's treasured techniques: the 'Earthen Heart Sutra' or the 'Flowing River Art'!"
A low hum of satisfaction passed through the younger generation. They had known this day would come, but the confirmation still sent a pleasant thrill through them. "An Earth-level technique," one youth murmured, a determined glint in his eye. "Now the real work begins." Another, a girl with bright eyes, clutched her hands to her chest, a small smile playing on her lips. "The Earthen Heart Sutra... I hope I get it."
Even Li Tian, though still pale and defeated, mumbled under his breath, "Earth... at least it's not Mortal..."
In the Grand Xia Empire, cultivation techniques were as vital as one's spiritual root. They were the very manuals that taught a cultivator how to absorb the world's ambient Qi and refine it into their own power. Like spiritual roots, they were graded: Mortal, Earth, Heaven, and the legendary Saint. Most clans were lucky to possess a single Earth-level technique.
The Li Clan's possession of two was a cornerstone of their power, cementing their place among the top three clans in the entire empire.
Li Wei watched with detached amusement as the disciples, including the broken Li Tian, scrambled to receive their scrolls. They squabble over scraps, celebrating mediocrity, he thought, a faint curl of disdain on his lips. An Earth-level technique is the pinnacle of their aspirations. To him, it is merely a stepping stone for the truly weak.
"Wei, my son. Come with me," Li Yuan commanded, his voice now a low, serious rumble, a stark contrast to his earlier booming declaration.
He turned and walked back into the grand ancestral hall, leaving the lesser disciples to their meager fortunes. Wei followed, his footsteps silent on the polished stone. Inside, the hall was empty, the throne casting a long shadow in the afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of ancient incense and polished wood.
Li Yuan turned, his eyes burning with an intensity that matched Wei's own. From within his robes, he produced not a scroll, but a small, heavy book bound in dark, metallic leather, its surface cool and aged. He presented it to Wei with both hands, a gesture of profound respect.
"This is the Heavenly Tyrant's Dominion Scripture," Li Yuan said, his voice laced with reverence, almost a whisper. "Our Li Clan's most guarded secret. A true Heaven-level technique. In the entire empire, only the royal family and the most powerful clans possess techniques of this caliber. It is a legacy passed down through generations, awaiting one worthy enough to wield its full power."
Wei accepted the book. It felt cool and solid in his hands. A faint, almost imperceptible thrum of power emanated from it, a silent promise of untold strength. "An Earth-level technique would only constrain your Saint Root," his father continued, his gaze unwavering. "This will allow you to build an unparalleled foundation in Qi Cultivation. Study it. Master it. With it, you will be invincible among your peers, a true hegemon of your generation."
"It is only natural," Wei replied, his tone flat, his eyes already scanning the ancient script on the book's cover.
Li Yuan nodded, a grim smile on his face. "Good. Your understanding is as keen as your talent. There is another matter. In three months, the Empyrean Sword Sect will begin its recruitment drive. It is one of the most powerful sects on the continent, and its main branch is located within our empire."
Li Wei's eyes remained impassive. "The sects," he stated, his voice low, "where true power is forged beyond the confines of clans." He knew of them, massive organizations that stood above clans and even empires, gathering the world's geniuses under their banners.
Clans provided the foundation, the raw talent, while sects provided the path to true power. "Precisely," Li Yuan affirmed, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Your Third Uncle, my younger brother, is an Inner Elder there. I have already sent word of your awakening. You will not need to undergo their trials. With a Saint Root, you will be granted direct entry as a core disciple—an honor almost unheard of, even for those with Heaven Roots."
Li Wei simply gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "Of course," he murmured, the words barely audible.
Dismissed, Li Wei left the hall and walked the stone paths back towards his own private residence. The Jade Dragon Pavilion was a sprawling mansion in its own right, a gift from his father on his sixteenth birthday, complete with its own training grounds, gardens, and a host of servants.
As he approached the entrance, a line of maids and servants dropped to their knees, their heads bowed low. "Welcome back, Young Master Wei!" their voices chimed in unison, a practiced chorus of subservience. His gaze swept over them, landing on the two young maids at the front.
The head maid, Mei, was a picture of mature grace. Her servant's uniform did little to hide the generous curves of her hips and the swell of her full bosom. Her face, though a mask of perfect servitude, held a certain allure, and he knew her eyes, now carefully averted, were like deep pools.
Beside her was a younger girl, Lian, barely more than a bud. Her head was bowed so low her silken black hair spilled onto the ground, revealing the exquisite, pale nape of her neck. Even from this angle, he could see the delicate curve of her spine and the trembling of her slender shoulders, a subtle tremor that spoke of both fear and a burgeoning, youthful figure.