Chapter 2: Uninvited Guest
The Qin family ancestral hall stood as a testament to three centuries of accumulated prestige. Built from Phoenix Cry Mountain's finest spirit-wood, its eaves curved skyward like the wings of a crane in flight. Red lanterns glowed even in daylight, their light amplified by low-grade spirit stones—a display of wealth few families in Linyuan City could afford.
Inside, the air was thick with incense—Dragon's Breath Incense, specifically, each stick worth a commoner's yearly earnings. The smoke coiled around ancestral tablets arranged in precise tiers, the highest holding the names of founders who had turned the Qins from merchants into a martial family.
Qin Xiaotian, current Family Head and Qin Feng's uncle, stood before the altar. At fifty, his temples were graying, but his back was straight as a spear, his eyes sharp. He wore ceremonial robes embroidered with the Qin family emblem—a soaring hawk clutching a mountain peak.
To his left stood his younger brother, Qin Lie, the family's Great Elder and enforcer of discipline. To his right, in a place of honor usually reserved for esteemed guests, sat a middle-aged man in blue and white robes—Deacon Li Changfeng of the Qingyang Sect.
Li Changfeng looked bored. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his chair, a subtle display of impatience. To him, Linyuan City was the edge of civilization, and the Qin family, while locally significant, were barely more than country gentry. He was here for two reasons: the promised spirit stones, and the off-chance of finding a diamond in the rough.
"Honored ancestors," Qin Xiaotian began, his voice resonating in the hall, "today we gather to honor your legacy and seek your blessings for the generations to come. We—"
The doors to the ancestral hall swung open.
Every head turned. Guards at the entrance moved to block the doorway, but they were too slow.
Qin Feng walked in.
A ripple of shock passed through the assembled family members. Over three hundred people—direct descendants, branch family members, honored retainers—all stared at the boy in the simple blue robe who had just breached the most sacred ceremony of the year.
For a heartbeat, there was only the sound of the doors creaking on their hinges.
Then chaos erupted.
"How dare you!" Qin Lie roared, stepping forward. "Guards! Remove him!"
Madam Wang's face turned pale with fury. "This is an outrage! Qin Feng, have you lost your mind?"
Qin Yue's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dangerous in their depths. Qin Xue actually smiled—a cruel, anticipatory smile.
But Qin Xiaotian held up a hand. "Wait."
His gaze was fixed on his nephew. Something was different. The boy who usually walked with downcast eyes, who seemed to shrink from attention, now stood straight. His gaze met Qin Xiaotian's without flinching.
"Uncle," Qin Feng said, his voice clear and carrying. "Elders. Honored ancestors." He bowed, not the deep bow of a supplicant, but the respectful nod of an equal. "Forgive my interruption. But as a descendant of the Qin bloodline, I believed I had the right—and the duty—to pay respects to those who came before us."
"You have no rights here!" Madam Wang snapped. "Your presence defiles this hall!"
Deacon Li Changfeng leaned forward, his boredom momentarily replaced by interest. He studied Qin Feng with the assessing gaze of a cultivator. Blocked meridians, yes. But there was... something. A steadiness in the boy's stance that contradicted his supposed weakness.
"Young man," Li Changfeng said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "They say your meridians are sealed. A congenital defect?"
All eyes turned to the Qingyang Sect deacon. This was an unexpected intervention.
Qin Feng met the deacon's gaze. "So I've been told, honored Deacon."
"And yet you walk in here with more spine than most young masters I've seen," Li Changfeng mused. "Curious."
Qin Yue's expression darkened. This was supposed to be his day, his moment to shine before the Qingyang Sect representative. Now this... this cripple was stealing attention.
"Deacon Li," Qin Yue stepped forward, bowing gracefully. "Please forgive my half-brother's impertinence. He has never been able to cultivate, and it has... affected his judgment. We were just about to begin the demonstration of our family's martial heritage. Perhaps it would be best if he observed from outside?"
The message was clear: Qin Feng didn't belong.
But Qin Feng didn't move. "If I may," he said, still looking at Li Changfeng. "The ancestors built this family through courage and determination. They faced bandits, monster tides, and political turmoil. Would they truly reject a descendant based on... perceived imperfections? Or would they value the strength of character that brings one to honor them despite being told not to?"
A murmur ran through the older family members. Some looked uncomfortable. The Qin family's founding stories were full of underdogs overcoming impossible odds.
Qin Xiaotian's expression was unreadable. "The ceremony has already been delayed," he said finally. "Qin Feng, you may stay. But stand at the back. And do not speak again unless spoken to."
It was a compromise—an acknowledgment without full acceptance.
Madam Wang's lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing. Qin Yue shot Qin Feng a look that promised later retribution.
The ceremony resumed. Qin Xiaotian completed the offerings—spirit fruits, jars of aged wine, the finest cuts of spirit beast meat. Chants were recited, bows were made, smoke continued to coil toward the ceiling.
Then came the demonstration segment—the real reason most of the younger generation had come.
"Our family's strength has always been our martial heritage," Qin Xiaotian announced. "Today, our younger generation will demonstrate their progress. Qin Yue, begin."
Qin Yue stepped into the cleared space before the altar. He glanced at Deacon Li, then at Qin Feng, a challenge in his eyes.
He took a deep breath, and his spiritual energy flared. Body Tempering Level 7—the energy was visible as a faint golden aura around him. Impressive for seventeen.
"The Qin family's Wind Blade technique," he announced.
His hands moved through forms, gathering spiritual energy from the air. The Dragon's Breath Incense smoke swirled around him, caught in the eddies of his power. Faster and faster his hands moved, until with a sharp exhalation, he slashed forward.
Swish!
Three blades of condensed air shot from his fingertips. They sliced through the air with audible whistles, crossing the twenty-foot hall to strike three wooden targets set against the far wall. Not just strike—each target was cleanly bisected, the cut surfaces smooth as glass.
A round of applause broke out. Even the older members nodded approvingly. The Wind Blade technique was intermediate-level, difficult to master. For Qin Yue to execute it so flawlessly spoke of genuine talent.
Deacon Li Changfeng gave a measured nod. "Not bad. Your control is precise. With proper training at the Qingyang Sect, you could refine it further."
Qin Yue bowed, a satisfied smile on his lips. "Thank you, Honored Deacon."
Other young Qins demonstrated their skills—sword forms, fist techniques, basic elemental manipulations. None matched Qin Yue's display, but several showed promise.
Throughout it all, Qin Feng watched from the back. With his Star Pupil Art active, he saw more than the others. He saw the flow of spiritual energy, the inefficiencies in their techniques, the weak points in their stances. He saw how Qin Yue's Wind Blades actually wasted thirty percent of their energy on unnecessary flourishes. He saw how his cousin Qin Ran's sword technique had a tell in the shoulder that would leave him open to a counterattack.
It was like watching children play with toys they only half-understood.
Then Qin Xue stepped forward.
"I will demonstrate the Spiritual Sense Extension technique," she announced, casting a triumphant glance at Qin Feng. This was a subtle dig—Spiritual Sense was something only those with opened meridians and a developed spiritual sea could use. It was a reminder of what Qin Feng could never have.
She closed her eyes, focusing. A faint ripple expanded from her—her spiritual sense, probing the room. She pointed without looking. "There are forty-three spirit stones powering the lanterns. The oldest ancestral tablet was carved three hundred twenty-seven years ago. And..." she smiled cruelly, pointing directly at Qin Feng, "the person with the weakest spiritual presence in this room is standing at the back, near the left pillar."
Laughter erupted, quickly stifled but no less humiliating.
Qin Feng didn't react. But internally, he was testing something. He focused on his Dragon Veins, on the new awareness they gave him. He didn't have spiritual sense in the traditional way—his meridians were still blocked. But he had something else.
He focused on the space around Qin Xue. Not trying to sense her energy, but sensing the space itself. And through that space, he could feel her—her position, her movements, even the faint disturbances her spiritual sense caused in the air.
It was different. Colder, more mathematical. But it worked.
"Enough," Qin Xiaotian said, though his voice lacked real force. "The demonstrations are concluded. We will now—"
"Family Head."
The voice came from the hall entrance again. But this time, it wasn't Qin Feng.
A woman stood there. No one had seen her arrive—she was simply there, as if she had always been part of the scene.
She appeared to be in her early twenties, though with cultivators, appearances were deceptive. She wore robes of pristine white, edged with silver patterns that shimmered like frost. Her hair was black as midnight, held back by a simple silver hairpin. Her features were so perfect they seemed carved from jade, but her eyes held a chill that made the Dragon's Breath Incense seem warm by comparison.
Most striking was the mark on her forehead—a delicate snowflake pattern that glowed with faint blue light.
Deacon Li Changfeng shot to his feet so quickly his chair scraped backward. "Ice Phoenix Palace!"
The words fell like stones into a still pond. Ice Phoenix Palace. One of the six great sects of Qing Province, equal to the Qingyang Sect in status, but far more reclusive. Their disciples rarely traveled to border cities like Linyuan.
The woman ignored Li Changfeng. Her gaze swept the room, passing over Qin Xiaotian, over Qin Yue, over the assembled Qins, until it settled on Qin Feng.
She frowned.
Slowly, she walked forward. The crowd parted before her as if pushed by an invisible force. She stopped before Qin Feng, studying him with an intensity that made even Qin Xiaotian uneasy.
"Interesting," she murmured, more to herself than anyone. "Profound Yin Locked Meridians. But that shouldn't be possible with your life force..."
She reached out, her fingers hovering an inch from Qin Feng's forehead. A wave of cold washed over him, so intense it made his breath fog. But within him, the Dragon Veins hummed in response, generating warmth that countered the chill.
The woman's eyes widened slightly. She pressed a finger to his forehead.
Ice-cold energy flowed into Qin Feng. It was a probe, searching, testing. He instinctively directed it into his first Dragon Vein, where it circulated and was absorbed, leaving no trace of its original nature.
"Hmm." The woman withdrew her hand. "Your meridians are indeed sealed. But your physical vitality... Body Tempering Level 3? 4? How is that possible with locked meridians?"
Qin Feng met her gaze. "I train my body, Honored Immortal. Even without spiritual energy, muscles can be strengthened."
"Not to this extent," she said flatly. Then she turned to Qin Xiaotian. "Who is this boy?"
"My nephew, Qin Feng," Qin Xiaotian answered, bewildered. "May I ask...?"
"Su Qinghan. Ice Phoenix Palace." She said it as if stating the weather. "I was passing through when I sensed unusual energy fluctuations. Profound Yin Locked Meridians is a rare condition. Those who have it usually die before ten. The yin energy accumulates, freezing the organs from within."
She looked back at Qin Feng. "You should be dead. Or at least bedridden. Yet you stand here, healthy. And your body has been tempered to a level that should require spiritual energy circulation. Explain."
Every eye in the hall was on Qin Feng. Madam Wang looked furious. Qin Yue looked jealous. Qin Xiaotian looked confused. Deacon Li looked intrigued.
"I don't know, Honored Immortal Su," Qin Feng said truthfully. "I've always been this way."
Su Qinghan studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded, as if coming to a decision.
"The Ice Phoenix Palace has methods to treat Profound Yin conditions. Not cures, but management." She spoke directly to Qin Feng now, ignoring everyone else. "I am traveling to Qingzhou City. In three months, the Ice Phoenix Palace will hold disciple selections there. If you can reach Body Tempering Level 6 by then, I will personally test you. If you pass, I will take you as a nominal disciple and teach you methods to control your condition."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Body Tempering Level 6 in three months? From a cripple? It was impossible. Laughably impossible.
But Su Qinghan wasn't laughing. She was dead serious.
And then she added, "Your condition is unique. There are records in the Ice Phoenix Palace archives of similar cases from the ancient Human Emperor Era. I would be... curious to study you."
Human Emperor Era. The words meant little to most present, but Qin Feng felt the bronze token grow warm against his chest.
Qin Yue couldn't stay silent any longer. "Honored Immortal," he said, stepping forward with his most charming smile. "With all respect, my half-brother cannot cultivate. His meridians—"
"I did not ask for your opinion," Su Qinghan said without looking at him. Her tone was not harsh, but utterly dismissive, as if swatting away a fly.
Qin Yue's face flushed.
Su Qinghan returned her attention to Qin Feng. "Three months. Qingzhou City. Body Tempering Level 6. Do not be late."
She didn't wait for a response. She turned and walked out of the hall. At the entrance, she paused, glanced back once more at Qin Feng, then vanished. Not walked away—vanished, as if she had never been there.
For five full seconds, no one moved. No one spoke.
Then the hall erupted.
"What just happened?"
"Ice Phoenix Palace!"
"She offered to take the cripple as a disciple?"
"Body Tempering Level 6 in three months? He can't even reach Level 1!"
Deacon Li Changfeng was staring at the spot where Su Qinghan had vanished, his expression thoughtful. Then he looked at Qin Feng with new eyes. "Young man," he said, his tone changed, no longer bored. "It seems you have attracted attention from unexpected quarters. The Ice Phoenix Palace does not make offers lightly."
He stood, addressing Qin Xiaotian. "Family Head Qin, your family has produced an... interesting individual. I will report this to the Qingyang Sect. Perhaps we, too, should keep an eye on young Qin Feng's progress."
With that, he bowed slightly and walked out, leaving the Qins in stunned silence.
The ancestral ceremony was forgotten. The carefully planned demonstrations were irrelevant. All anyone could talk about was Su Qinghan's visit and her impossible challenge.
Madam Wang's face was pale with fury. She turned to Qin Xiaotian. "This is a trick. That woman wasn't really from Ice Phoenix Palace. It's impossible!"
But Qin Xiaotian was looking at Qin Feng, really looking at him for the first time in years. "Feng'er," he said slowly. "How did you do it? How did you get her attention?"
Qin Feng met his uncle's gaze. "I didn't, Uncle. She came to me."
"Three months," Qin Yue snarled, losing his composure. "You'll never make it. You're still a cripple! A fancy offer from a mysterious woman doesn't change that!"
Qin Feng didn't respond. He simply bowed to the ancestral altar, then to Qin Xiaotian, and turned to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?" Qin Lie demanded.
"To train," Qin Feng said over his shoulder. "I have three months to reach Body Tempering Level 6."
He walked out of the hall, leaving behind three hundred bewildered, jealous, and furious relatives.
The guards at the door didn't try to stop him this time. They just stared.
Outside, the sky had cleared completely. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the world seemed brighter, sharper to Qin Feng's newly enhanced senses.
He touched the bronze token through his robe. It was warm.
Three months. Body Tempering Level 6.
With his nine Dragon Veins, he was already at what felt like Level 3 or 4. And that was after one night, with only one dragon soul awakened.
He thought of the other eight dragons waiting in the token, of the other eight inheritances.
A smile touched his lips—small, private, filled with a confidence no one in Linyuan City would understand.
Three months would be more than enough.
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