Han Zhennan woke up to the dull ache of every muscle in his body. His hands trembled as he reached for the small bottle of healing pills at his side. One by one he swallowed them, the bitter taste anchoring him to consciousness. His fingers found his blade lying on the stone floor; he gripped it tightly, then forced himself to sit upright. His robes were shredded and scorched, stiff with blood. Without hesitation he stripped off the ruined garments, replaced them with a clean spare, and sat cross-legged to circulate his healing technique. Thin strands of lightning danced along his meridians as he guided his qi into torn muscles and cracked bones.
The statue before him stood frozen, its eyes closed as though nothing had ever stirred inside it. For hours, the chamber was silent except for the faint hiss of his own breath and the low hum of energy coursing through his body. Only when his wounds had closed, his bones knitted, and his dantian pulsed with steadiness did Han Zhennan rise.
He spoke to the statue, at first receiving no reply. But when his questions reached into the boundaries of what the guardian was bound to answer, a low voice rumbled from within the stone.
"You may take those shards and those treasures with you. As before, you can continue along the path to the next trial."
Han Zhennan's choice should have been obvious—he had come for the inheritance, and nothing else. He moved to the table, gathered the Aether shards, the scrolls, and the chest of treasures, slipping them into his storage ring one by one. Then, as he examined the ring's contents, his hand froze.
A cracked stone lay within. His breath caught. His face drained of color.
The guardian's eyes cracked open, faint interest sparking there. It watched as Han Zhennan's entire demeanor shifted from calm determination to urgency. He spun toward the beast, shouting with a voice edged in panic:
"I CHOOSE TO LEAVE! I CHOOSE TO TAKE THESE REWARDS AND LEAVE NOW!"
The statue tilted its head in confusion but did not question him. One talon moved and a door rimmed with ominous energy flared into existence. The guardian pointed at it, and Han Zhennan bolted forward without another word. The moment he crossed the threshold, his figure dissolved into light.
The beast shut its eyes again, losing interest just as quickly. Another human. Another carrier of the blood it despised. Nothing worth asking about.
Han Zhennan landed hard on his knees in a barren plain under a darkening sky. This was not the inheritance's entrance but a random point in the world far from it. He didn't hesitate. From his ring he pulled an item—an intricate talisman—and shattered it in his palm. A fox-shaped phantom erupted from the shards, its eyes glowing with a spectral light. He drew out a small vial of blood and poured it onto the phantom. The fox sniffed the air, then darted away at astonishing speed. Han Zhennan chased after it, qi flaring under his feet.
"Damn it…" he muttered between breaths. "That stone—I gave it to He Ruying and Xue Lian in case something happened, so I could find them immediately. I never imagined anything would happen while I was in the inheritance. Fortune favors me that the item even worked inside—most couldn't bypass a space of that level. But no matter. I must reach them. And if the fox is heading toward my clan…"
He pushed his speed to the limit, lightning flickering at his heels.
Soon, the outline of his town emerged on the horizon. His heart dropped when he saw it. Scores of soldiers in imperial armor patrolled the gates, their formations tight and efficient. A heavy, oppressive aura clung to the walls. A bad feeling churned in his gut.
He didn't stop. As the soldiers raised their spears and shouted, he leapt—clearing the walls in a single bound. Lightning coiled around his legs as he hit the ground running, sprinting toward his clan's compound. Inside the walls, the concentration of troops was even greater, and these were not mere foot soldiers; he felt the steady, sharp presence of mid-stage Rank Two cultivators, and beneath it all, like a blade at his neck, the presence of a titled cultivator—a monster on par with the CoreForged stage.
Han Zhennan's hair stood on end. His mind screamed at him to be careful, but his heart screamed louder. Xue Lian. He Ruying. His children.
He drew his blade. Soldiers tried to intercept him; he skipped past them in flickers of lightning. Two mid-stage Rank Two cultivators lunged from either side, blocking his path. He had no choice. The blade came up, his aura erupting like a thunderclap.
Inside the main house, a woman knelt on the floor, clutching a child in her arms. Tears streaked her face as she pleaded. Before her stood two men: Xie Tianhun, the Fist of Glory, and Han Zhenwu.
Han Zhenwu's face was a mask of disbelief. Pale, trembling, his body still bore the image of a man weakened by poison—or perhaps by rage. Xie Tianhun's eyes were hard, skeptical. A day ago, he and Han Zhenwu had already executed their plan: the arrest and subjugation of the He and Xue clans. The patriarchs were bound, their qi sealed, their vaults ransacked. Evidence of demonic practices, ties to dark sects, and corpses of victims filled the hidden chambers. The horror was so great that Xie Tianhun had nearly killed the patriarchs on sight.
The two men had been silent since their capture, unable to explain how such evidence existed in their homes. Meanwhile, Han Zhenwu had waited here for this moment—for Xie Tianhun to take He Ruying to him as agreed. He had told the general she was the one who poisoned him, and that he would take vengeance with his own hands but not now, he wanted her to die somewhere else not infront of his son and he didn't want anyone to know he did since he said he didn't want to hurt his son and wanted to protect from such pain that his father killed his loved wife. Xie Tianhun had believed it. The empire always watched men like Han Zhenwu, too crafty and too powerful to trust, and yet the story had fit: a father protecting his son from a traitor without hurting him directly.
But now, looking at He Ruying, Xie Tianhun felt a flicker of doubt. She looked too innocent, too desperate. Yet he had learned long ago—faces lie, voices deceive, and tears mean nothing in a world like this. Not when every piece of evidence pointed to her.
Han Zhenwu and Han Zhennan both looked toward the window as a new presence made itself known. Tianhun remained unmoved, but Han Zhenwu flinched inwardly, surprise flashing across his features. In his head he thought, "Zhennan, what the hell is this boy doing here? He is supposed to be in the inheritance—did he fail already? No. Impossible. He would have taken the inheritance or at least reached a very late stage with hsi strength, but with how much he spent there he wouldn't even reach the second trial—so that means he knows about this. But how? Even if He Ruying or Xue Lian have an emergency talisman, it shouldn't work to notify him while he's inside a different space. Only something made by a space-path master can bypass that limit, and even I don't possess such a thing. How does he have one?"
Han Zhenwu forced his voice steady and said aloud, "Let him come." Tianhun gave the order to his men.
Han Zhennan, who had been fighting two Rank-2 cultivators, watched both men step aside as if in recognition; he assumed at once his father had arrived. He bolted toward the house. When he pushed through the door and saw his father, the sight stopped him cold: the man who had seemed an unshakable mountain only days before now looked frail, pale, and diminished. Han Zhennan's voice broke as he reached him: "Father—what… what is wrong with you?"
A woman stumbled forward, clutching a child to her chest; tears streaked her face as she clung to Han Zhennan. Between sobs she cried, "Z-Z-ZHENNAN, PLEASE—you have to tell them! They're not believing me. I am begging you—help me!"
Han Zhenwu watched them both, rage hardening behind his calm exterior. In his mind he thought, "I cannot leave a clean end to this. And since this boy already abandoned what I trained him for—years and years of work—for some damned woman, it's certain he will never be on my side. Maybe I was too kind; I let him stray from my shadow until outsiders changed him. I thought his obedience would always hold, so I spared him things I would not have otherwise. But now Zhennan has thrown away what I valued him for, and I cannot wait for another child. I will go forward with my preparations and forcefully take the inheritance."