The gentlest slopes of the outermost Yunshan, Xi Xia Peak, stretch out in a verdant tapestry over the vast plains of the Lan River. The exquisite pavilions and courtyards built along the mountain’s contours resemble terraced fields from afar, all belonging to the Song Clan’s extended family. Atop the peak stands the Wen Dao Estate, often shrouded in mist.
The Song Family’s main branch spans four generations, with the Grand Dowager An Guo, who is about to celebrate her hundredth birthday, still holding the reins of power. Not everyone is allowed to enter the Wen Dao Estate, let alone reside there. Thus, the surrounding area has become a coveted piece of land over the decades, with the best views and locations naturally belonging to the main bloodline.
As Qian Ye ascended the mountain, he deeply felt the grandeur and opulence of the high-born families. Even the occasional servant passing by was dressed in fine silk, leaving a trail of elegance.
The buildings were all in a retro style, with the ever-moving towers and steam pipelines either cleverly concealed or buried deep underground, to ensure they did not disrupt the aesthetic.
Qian Ye mused, beginning to understand why the old patriarch of the Song Clan had changed the rules for the heir selection exam thirty years ago. Compared to the Zhao Clan’s cities, the Song Clan’s excessive focus on trivial luxuries, wasting resources needlessly, might be seen as extravagant and wasteful by the upper echelons of the Empire.
They finally reached the middle of the mountain, a height that signified considerable status within the Song Clan. Amidst the trees, a row of seven or eight courtyards, similar in scale and style, stood. However, the one called “Yun Shen Hall,” which Song Zining entered, appeared rather desolate.
Upon entering, Qian Ye discovered why. Most of the courtyard was closed off, with only a small eastern courtyard tidied up for their stay.
The “Yun Shen Hall” was still under Song Zining’s father’s name, but due to his poor health, he had withdrawn from the clan’s power center during Song Zining’s childhood. He now lived in seclusion in the Wen Dao Estate, rarely appearing in public or staying here.
Song Zining himself had a garden residence by the river, where his concubines and most of his retinue resided. For the upcoming exams, however, Song Zining, Qian Ye, and another guest warrior would stay here.
The side courtyard, though small, was arranged with a serene and ancient charm. Blue stone slabs covered the ground, with patches of earth left at the corners, adorned with clusters of green bamboo, banana plants, and a peculiar rock. A quaint octagonal well added an air of transcendence.
Despite his dislike for such styles, Qian Ye couldn’t help but admire, “This is indeed a good place.”
Song Zining took a large stack of documents from the remaining guards and led Qian Ye into the main hall, saying, “The courtyard’s layout is actually an origin force array, which doubles the natural origin force at dawn. You can test it tomorrow.”
Qian Ye, surprised, found it hard to respond. Should he praise the designer for balancing art and utility, or sigh at their insistence on adding artistic flair even to a simple energy-gathering array?
While walking, Song Zining skimmed through the documents, handing a few pages to Qian Ye, which contained information about the heir selection exam.
He said, “Your guest status is registered. I’ll arrange for someone to take you to choose your equipment. It’s getting late, so we’ll visit the library and training room tomorrow. Join me for dinner tonight.”
After giving further instructions to the guards, including arranging for the injured, Song Zining hurried off. He had many duties to attend to, from visiting the Grand Dowager An Guo and his father to reporting to the elders on recent assignments.
Qian Ye sat down in the quiet hall, flipping through the documents. He shook his head, realizing that even as an outsider, he could see that the changes in the heir selection exam had failed, as evidenced by Song Zining’s experience.
The Song Clan, due to its limited direct descendants, used a different ranking system. Song Zining, as the seventh in his generation, highlighted the scarcity of direct heirs. The tradition of suppressing collateral branches had kept the clan’s power firmly in the hands of the main bloodline for centuries.
In such a shortage, someone with Song Zining’s potential was designated for a marriage alliance due to insufficient cultivation potential. Despite the age range for origin force enlightenment being six to eight, there was ample time to revise results. Yet, Song Zining chose the Yellow Springs Training Camp at eight, reflecting his situation. His father’s absence from the power center left him unprotected.
If a family confined its resources to those in power, it would stagnate. The Song Clan, with its focus on commerce and no need for territorial defense, masked this narrowness. Now, changing one rule wouldn’t suffice, as the system lacked the necessary foundation.
This wealthiest clan had the weakest military, and its leaders might not see the shadow behind the flourishing facade.
After a short rest, a guard came to take Qian Ye to the Song Clan’s Outer Gate Arsenal. He learned that the other guest warrior would arrive tomorrow evening, leaving the library visit to him alone.
For the heir selection, the Song Clan provided generous benefits, especially in terms of equipment and library access. Registered guest warriors could borrow equipment, with a 50% discount for three wins and free if five.
This was like buying one’s life. Though it was a death match, attacking a Song Clan member was impractical, but two guest warriors with grudges would likely fight to the death.
The clan’s library, usually closed to outsiders, was now open with some restrictions. Finding a suitable technique could be as valuable as a decade of service.
Upon arrival, Qian Ye realized the arsenal was nearly the size of a small town. Following Song Zining’s guard, he saw an old man dozing off at a desk.
The guard found Ren Yi An’s name and respectfully woke the old man, saying, “Old Lu, this is Seventh Young Master’s guest warrior, here to choose his equipment.”
The old man opened his eyes, and a flash of light blinded Qian Ye. The brightness lingered, making him feel exposed.
Startled, Qian Ye activated the ancient Song script, releasing pure dawn origin force. He didn’t dare to activate his bloodline, retracting all his blood energy.
The old man’s gaze swept over Qian Ye, “Seventh Young Master’s man, looks good. Go in. Remember the rules.” The old man closed his eyes again.
The guard assured him, and they prepared to enter the massive alloy door.
Old Lu suddenly said, “Young people are hasty. The arsenal is vast, don’t rush, take your time. The Song Clan has plenty of good things.”
Qian Ye thanked him and entered.
The guest warriors’ area had fourth-level weapons and fifth-level origin guns. In a ring battle, origin guns were limited, so Qian Ye chose a mid-range pistol and focused on melee weapons.
He walked, weighing and swinging weapons, feeling none quite right. The guard, also level eight, was amazed by Qian Ye’s strength.
Finally, Qian Ye noticed a heavy sword in a corner. Longer than a regular sword, it was almost a two-handed blade. The dark, unadorned blade drew his attention.
He gripped the hilt, and it nearly fell. Startled, he tried again, lifting it with precision and slowly drawing the blade.
The dull, unremarkable edge had a few simple, rough origin lines. The unusual weight made it seem incomplete, like a masterpiece left unfinished. On the blade, he read: “Dong Yue.”
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