The foot of Qingyun Mountain was filled with the defeated.
Some cried.
Some cursed.
Some stared blankly at the sky, their dreams shattered.
Lin Fei stood quietly among them, hands clasped behind his back, expression calm.
His shoulder‑length hair drifted in the wind.
His vertical pupils reflected a faint, ancient depth.
He had no sorrow.
No regret.
Only quiet contemplation.
A man in a green robe stepped forward, his voice clear and steady.
"Everyone, the Lin Family of Qingzhu Mountain is recruiting door‑to‑door son‑in‑laws.
Those accepted will receive:
- a spiritual vein blessed land,
- immortal cultivation techniques,
- and monthly cultivation resources."
The crowd erupted instantly.
"Spiritual vein?!"
"Techniques?!"
"Resources?!"
Lin Fei's gaze shifted slightly.
A cultivation clan…
A stable environment…
Resources…
A place to begin again.
It was not a bad path.
Someone shouted:
"What are the requirements?!"
The man in green smiled politely.
"In twenty years, you must produce fifty children.
Or—
one child with a mid‑grade spiritual root.
Or—
three children with low‑grade spiritual roots."
Silence.
Then outrage.
"That's not a son‑in‑law—
that's a breeding tool!"
"Fifty children?!"
"Impossible!"
Lin Fei remained expressionless.
Inside, he thought:
"For others, impossible.
For me…
a path to awaken the Dao Dragon Physique."
His physique grew stronger through bloodline.
Through descendants.
Through the expansion of his clan.
This requirement was harsh for others—
but for him, it was opportunity.
Hong Yi approached him quietly.
"Lin Fei, the Lin Family of Qingzhu Mountain is a real cultivation clan.
They have a Foundation Establishment ancestor."
Lin Fei nodded slightly.
Hong Yi continued:
"They lost many young members in a war over a spirit stone mine.
That's why they're recruiting outsiders."
Lin Fei understood.
A clan with wounded roots needed new branches.
And he needed soil to grow.
Li Feiyu stepped beside him.
"Brother Lin… shall we go together?"
Lin Fei looked at him, calm as still water.
"You have decided."
Li Feiyu nodded firmly.
"I refuse to return to a mortal life.
Even if the path is difficult, I will walk it."
Lin Fei gave a faint nod.
"Then let us go."
He stepped forward.
The man in green hesitated when he heard Lin Fei's spiritual root was ninth‑rank.
But when he saw Li Feiyu beside him, he relented.
"You must sign a contract.
If you fail to meet the conditions in twenty years,
you will repay triple the resources
and serve the Lin Family for ten years."
Lin Fei's voice was calm.
"I understand."
Inside, he thought:
"My bloodline will awaken.
My physique will grow.
My clan will rise."
Soon, twenty young men stood together — all poor, all rootless, all desperate for a path forward.
A middle‑aged man stepped forward.
"I am Lin Yuanding, head of the Lin Family.
From today onward, you will follow me."
He opened a gold‑trimmed cloth bag.
Streaks of white light shot out, transforming into majestic spirit horses with golden manes.
The crowd gasped.
Lin Fei's eyes narrowed slightly.
Not ordinary beasts.
Their qi was steady, refined.
Lin Yuanding spoke:
"These spirit horses can travel a thousand miles a day.
Even if you cannot ride, they will carry you safely."
Lin Fei mounted one.
The horse neighed softly, sensing something ancient within him.
His vertical pupils glimmered faintly.
Inside, he thought:
"Qingzhu Mountain…
Let us see what fate awaits."
The group rode forward, leaving Qingyun Mountain behind.
The path of a dragon had begun.