Volume One: The Wild Child Chapter Fifty-Four: Speaking to Heaven and Earth

Wei Shaoqing, whose shrewdness had been honed over decades, could no longer conceal his fury today. His anger eclipsed even the provocation from Ying Mao days ago. The two things he most despised had converged in this moment: the shouts of young men and the bellowing of lackeys.

Gan Yulin had abolished his family's "nag system" yesterday, stirring a tempest among the Seven Clans. With this, the distinction between the main and collateral branches of the Gan family became meaningless—the strict hierarchy among brothers and uncles was suddenly nothing but a grand joke. Without the "nags" as bridges and vessels, in a clan where all stood equal, who would still sacrifice their life for the great house? Most would be busy fattening their own pockets.

The elders of the Seven Clans mocked Gan Yulin's foolish dreams. The shackles he viewed as savage beasts were, in truth, the legacy of a thousand generations. Reformers who tried to abolish them had all fallen, without exception, in the river of history.

These fetters bound the fickle hearts of men.

Yet Wei Shaoqing had been restless for a long time because of this. How could the True Lord of Ruzhou not see the heart of the matter? If his guess was correct, Gan Yulin’s next move would be to split the enormous Gan clan. Gan Yulin would become a laughingstock among the Seven Clans, but within ten, perhaps even just a few decades, if no one could suppress him, the whole city of Ruzhou might bear the Gan name.

With capital flooding the lower tiers of the pyramid, the inevitable result would be a windfall of profit. Frankly, if his worship of power hadn’t seeped into his bones, Wei Shaoqing might have played that card himself long ago.

A single matter cannot break the camel’s back; the fuse must be lit by someone. Today, straw and flame met—the result was Wei Shaoqing’s defenses shattered, his rage blazing openly across his face.

"Tiger Shizhen, you have some nerve," Wei Shaoqing, stooping with age, slowly approached Tiger Shizhen, his expression harsh.

Tiger Shizhen could barely speak, hurriedly bowing and knocking his head to beg for mercy.

"Yang Wuliu’s dog, I care not. But you are my Wei clan’s dog—insulting your master, that’s crime one: the tongue must be ripped out. Failing your duty, crime two: the hand must be severed. Tarnishing my reputation, a capital offense: death!” With these words, Wei Shaoqing raised his cane and brought it down hard upon Tiger Shizhen’s skull.

Just as he was about to commit the deed, Lin Changtian’s long blade swept in, barring the cane from advancing even an inch further.

Wei Shaoqing didn’t even bother to lift his eyelids, his voice colder than before: “Young man, I’ve already given you enough respect in Ruzhou. Don’t mistake kindness for weakness.”

Lin Changtian scratched his head and replied quietly, “Thank you for showing me some courtesy, but I’d like to ask for another.”

“You’re not a native of Ruzhou, but surely you understand the custom—to respect the ways of the land. The Wei clan deals with its own servants; there’s no reason to show you this courtesy.”

Lin Changtian smiled, lowering himself as if yielding, but his next words stunned all of Ruzhou. “Whether you show me respect is up to you, but you’ve got it wrong—on that day, I showed you respect and spared Wei Zifu’s life. Since you’re so decisive now, I’ll repay you in full today.”

As soon as these words left his lips, the anger that had filled the air dissipated completely.

He had spoken his mind, but the noisy city of Ruzhou fell silent in an instant.

Since Wei Shaoqing began using formations to command the heavens, not even the North Emperor dared take liberties with him. Yet now, the foremost man of Ruzhou was being challenged by a mere petty official from the eastern quarter.

And all this in front of countless witnesses, touching every nerve in Wei Shaoqing’s body.

“A mayfly shaking a tree—why not grow up first? Survive a few more years, give the tree less trouble, spare it strength to shelter the whole city. Isn’t that a worthy pursuit? Righteousness and impulsiveness—most deadly traits.” Wei Shaoqing lifted his head, staring at Lin Changtian. His turbid eyes shone with a chilling, cold gleam.

In the twilight of his years, his gaze was as still as a deep well.

He was like a patriarch teaching his offspring, intent on extinguishing Lin Changtian’s rebelliousness within the gloomy ancestral hall.

Merely placing his cane nearby was enough to declare someone’s death sentence.

To dominate with force is nothing; to bind the people with doctrine is true heroism.

Those who set rules have always been the “heroes” of the Divine Continent of Wen Yuan.

Yet Wei Shaoqing forgot something he most feared.

This young man was neither his kin nor a lamb of the Wen Yuan continent.

Lin Changtian laughed, recalling his journey from Fan City in the Central North to Wen Yuan’s Ruzhou. Every elder he’d met along the way had been just like this.

What, now that your own line has ended, everyone you meet looks like your grandson?

With that thought, he saw no need to continue.

“Old men really do love making others their grandsons,” Lin Changtian muttered, drawing his long blade from his waist, its edge flashing as he charged straight toward Wei Shaoqing!

The towering tree that blocked out sun and rain kept the light from entering at all!

But Lin Changtian’s blade could not reach Wei Shaoqing; his hounds surged forward, using their bodies to defend their master’s dignity.

Wei Shaoqing watched coldly. His hounds were no match for Lin Changtian—mere tools for “protection.” Did anyone expect the Wei clan’s master himself to act first?

Besides, Lin Changtian had battled Gan Yulin all night, yet showed no fatigue. Rather, his blade grew fiercer by the moment. This unsettled Wei Shaoqing; as a master of the Divine Realm, if he failed to subdue his foe instantly, the prestige he’d built by slaughtering the Lin clan’s Wangchuan Legion with formations would be thoroughly shaken among the Seven Clans.

Like an aging wolf king, suddenly revitalized in a crisis, slaying a strong enemy to cow the pack. But when the wolf king’s age and weakness were exposed, the pack would only scramble to tear apart his lingering authority, never minding his former heroics.

Wei Shaoqing steadied himself. For the first time in many years, he felt the urge to fight.

Schemes and comfort dull a warrior’s skills, but cannot steal a king’s ambition.

Just as Lin Changtian dispatched the last of the household servants, Wei Shaoqing’s aura, a streak of white lightning, surged toward him.

It was hard to imagine this soft white light came from a Divine Realm master; it was less imposing than Gan Yulin’s whip.

The commoners of Ruzhou sneered, faces full of scorn—was the famed chief of the Seven Clans really so aged? Yet among the realm wielders of the Seven Clans, not a single face showed ease.

In a blink, the commoners’ mocking expressions froze—a perfect portrait of petty disappointment.

Lin Changtian, fierce all night in the eastern city, could not withstand even this “feeble” white aura; he was hurled a hundred meters back, unable to halt his momentum.

Dust swirled over the ruins. His realm-grade blade snapped in two, leaving only a fragment clinging to Lin Changtian as he barely hung on.

By the rules of the realm wielders, victory and defeat were clear.

“Young man, a little arrogance is no fault. Leave now, and I’ll let bygones be bygones—all is forgiven. After all, our realm wielders need rising talents like you to restore the glory of Wen Yuan’s Divine Continent.” Wei Shaoqing stroked his beard, his face full of “benevolence” and “magnanimity.” Yet this display was for the foolish masses of Ruzhou; after all was said and done, Lin Changtian would still have to die—how, that would never implicate Wei Shaoqing.

He loved a saying popular in Ruzhou: “None of the city’s nobles are any good, only Elder Wei is a true stream of integrity. Pity he alone can’t change the tide—otherwise, Ruzhou would have had clear skies long ago!”

The Seven Clans scoffed at this, convinced it was a rumor spread by Wei Shaoqing himself—a shameless self-glorification! But it had nothing to do with him; the commoners had long been grateful to the greatest villain behind the scenes.

See how amusing these fools are! They praised Wei Shaoqing’s tolerance, as if Lin Changtian had been the one making a scene, breaking the “rules” from start to finish.

But the world always needs a few outliers.

Lin Changtian rose on his broken blade, flinging the sheath far away. To the ignorant masses, it seemed the youth had yielded to circumstance, and their praise for his discernment grew. Even the realm wielders of the Seven Clans frowned, thinking the battle’s end was nigh.

In the Northern Territory, only one act draws universal disdain—laying down your weapon before the battle. But only one act earns universal admiration—removing the sheath from your weapon before the battle.

Bare blade means no home for the weapon—it signals a fight to the death.

What’s the point of being a splendid youth on a fine horse? Today, I’ll walk this path of death!

Wielding the broken blade with casual bravado, Lin Changtian pushed his realm force to the limit, blending the ethereal aura with the weight of steel. The whole city of Ruzhou cried out in shock—this was the nightmare of the Lin clan!

Stripping off armor, mounting his horse, shedding his shackles.

Blade raised to the sky, river suspended beneath the sun, driving the city’s gloom back into the light!

This strike was a challenge to the heavens.

I ask you, heavens—how did you make a city full of fools?

I ask you, heavens—how long before you dare to wake from your dream?

I ask you, heavens—can you not tell day from night?

This strike was not one a Divine Realm master could withstand.

Wei Shaoqing had witnessed Xie Daoyun’s fierce power in realm armor—he dared not receive Lin Changtian’s furious blow. Forgetting his dignity, he shouted to the crowd: “What are you all waiting for? This villain is clearly a Lin clan remnant—will you let him run wild here? Join me to defeat him, or Ruzhou’s honor will be lost!”

The ten elders of the Seven Clans dared not delay, each unleashing their utmost to block the strike that threatened the heavens. Yet Ruzhou’s scattered sands were on full display; none were willing to risk their lives to leave a foothold for future retaliation. Had the elders not blocked the first wave, the realm wielders of Ruzhou might have been wiped out.

At this moment, Yang Wuliu was unusually fierce—his eyes burning, greedy and fearful. The realm armor had passed through several hands; if it fell to him, with his half-step Divine Realm, its power would only be greater. Then Ruzhou would be his for the taking.

But that was not the case. The Lin clan’s realm armor was developed from the Zhou clan’s philosophy—it required a match between aura and armor, not a higher realm. Only Lin Changtian’s angry strike, combined with his own subtlety, produced a force even Xie Daoyun couldn’t match. Moreover, no Lin clan realm armor could accommodate Divine Realm aura.

This young man’s force nearly crushed all of Ruzhou, but the ten elders’ fate was not yet sealed. Lin Changtian’s strength waned, the wounds Wei Shaoqing left gnawed at his nerves, as if ten thousand insects devoured his energy sea. At last, as he faltered, Wei Shaoqing—prepared in advance—loosed the white lightning from his sleeve, shattering Lin Changtian’s final hope in the sky, leaving only a pile of wreckage wrapped around him as he plummeted.

The ten elders would not miss such a chance, and Yang Wuliu was fastest, a blur of movement, intent on tearing Lin Changtian apart—so he could examine him thoroughly.