The Fan Clan's ancestral residence, with its storefront in the front and courtyard in the back, occupied a generous stretch of land. It was worthy of being called a true mansion within Yingdu's inner ring.
But maintaining such a residence came at no small cost; the qi supply alone was exorbitantly expensive.
If the Fan Clan's line of cultivators faltered and could no longer secure fee exemptions, then the massive qi expenditures would quickly devour the clan's wealth. That would force the family down the social ladder, and in the worst case, they might even have to sell the estate and flee Yingdu altogether.
For generations, the direct line of the Fan Clan had controlled the ancestral home, basking in abundant qi supplies. By rights, it should have continued to produce powerful cultivators, safeguarding the family's legacy and sustaining the prosperity of Jinhua Hall, their mercantile enterprise.
But fate had dealt them hardship after hardship. Their heritage now hung by a thread, one step away from collapse.
So when a great trading house like Jinhua Hall suddenly began unloading treasures from its sealed vaults, it was a public admission that its succession had gone wrong.
It was inevitable that opportunists would soon appear, hoping to pick the carcass clean.
Thus, Jing Qian's unexpected knocking at the gate received little courtesy.
Only on the third ring of the bell did the doors finally crack open.
A young maid poked her head out and said:
"Honored guest, the household is dealing with urgent matters and cannot receive outsiders. Please leave, or write a note for me to deliver. When my masters are free, they will respond."
Jing Qian couldn't force his way in, so he said calmly:
"Please inform Lady Zhuoyi and Young Master Zhuoyan. I have come from another continent to honor our agreement made in the Kitchen House. This is no small matter. If the two of them know it is me, they will see me."
"Please, pass the word."
The maid's expression grew solemn. She clearly recognized something in his words. She bowed lightly and withdrew.
Jing Qian waited patiently. He had to get inside. Fan Zhuoyi's Fate-Locking Needle affliction had to be resolved.
He had entered a binding pact with them and had even been paid in advance. He could not walk away from the responsibility.
...
Inside the courtyard walls, however, the Fan Clan was in the midst of a fierce internal struggle.
Three collateral branches had united to besiege the direct-line siblings, forcing them to surrender control of the ancestral estate and Jinhua Hall.
One seventh-grade Longevity cultivator stepped forward and said coldly:
"Zhuoyi, your talents are far too meager. Neither of you has any chance of advancing to Longevity."
"With Jinhua Hall in your hands, there is no future. We have already given you too many chances, but you have never once proven that you can lead the Fan Clan and Jinhua Hall forward."
Beside him, a plump middle-aged man snorted and added:
"Forward? You can't even maintain the present! I examined the ledgers myself. A year ago, you withdrew a massive sum of clan assets, and to this day, we don't know what you spent it on.
"As a result, this very month, the family could not even pay the qi fees! You were ready to put one of Jinhua Hall's finest seventh-grade spirit garments out on the shop counter for retail sale.
"When has our clan ever stooped so low? We always arrange private transactions with dignitaries. Which of them would ever lower themselves to buy off a street stall?
"Fortunately, I pulled the garment back before you ruined our name. Great figures never buy off the rack, you were smashing Jinhua Hall's own signboard!"
Fan Zhuoyi's face tightened at his words, but she quickly composed herself. Her reply was cold and firm:
"Uncle, I know very well where those funds went. The family's qi fees may be strained, but I will find a way.
"As for the seventh-grade garment, do you think I would have revealed it unless absolutely forced?
"And why did I have to hang it openly for sale? Do not pretend you don't know the answer to that.
"I know what you've come for. You needn't waste more words. I will not yield. If you want what belongs to the direct line, you will have to wait until I am dead."
Surrounding Fan Zhuoyi and her younger brother were more than a dozen so-called "relatives," each of them at least at the eighth rank, Dragon-Elephant Realm.
These people had split off from the main bloodline several generations ago, forming their own households. In truth, they were already separate powers in their own right.
When the Fan Clan prospered, they hovered around the direct line, relying on Jinhua Hall's influence to sustain themselves.
But once the main line fell into decline, these same people turned into wolves, arriving to prey upon the weak.
This was the ethos of the Ying Futuo Realm: law, morality, even kinship meant little. Only one's own strength truly mattered.
Thus, extreme self-interest pervaded every group, and the hidden struggles beneath the surface were even colder, nothing but calculation.
Any cultivator, any organization, once weakened, would inevitably have its resources and position seized by others.
Even mighty powers like Pure Yang Heaven or Yanfu Dao were not exceptions.
Fortunately, under the Divine Dynasty, there were still basic rules. Neither the Fan ancestral home nor the ownership of Jinhua Hall could be seized by brute force. The siblings were not yet at the point of total despair.
Otherwise, any one of these cultivators could crush them with a single move.
But give it a few more months; if they still could not pay their qi fees, the clan's Life Furnace would degrade in grade, and then they would fall into a vicious cycle with no escape.
In Yingdu, the Divine Capital, idlers could not survive. Strong cultivators grew ever stronger here. Weaklings were swiftly ground down, consumed in the relentless churn.
Amid this tense stalemate, the little maid slipped in quietly, came to Fan Zhuoyi's side, and handed her a note.
One glance was enough to light up her eyes. She rose and said sharply:
"Honored elders, there is no need for further words. This will be the last time I host you. I have a guest to meet, please take your leave."
But the leading Longevity cultivator among them sneered:
"We are going to the ancestral hall to pay respects. That is the collateral branch's rightful privilege. No one can stop us."
With that, a dozen men brushed past the siblings' darkened expressions and marched straight into the rear courtyard.
There, they seated themselves in the ancestral shrine, drawing qi in great gulps, draining the estate's already meager reserves dry.
The brother and sister had no way to contend with these "elders." The collateral line had long since thrown away any pretense of dignity.
Squeezing them, depriving them of cultivation resources, this was the collateral branch's established tactic.
Fan Zhuoyi drew a deep breath, forced down her fury, and led her brother outside.
...
At last, Jing Qian saw the gates of the Fan residence open. When he spotted the siblings emerge, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Had he come any later and failed to complete their transaction, the Kitchen House would surely have blacklisted him. That would have been a disastrous loss over a small delay.
Fan Zhuoyi stepped forward first and asked:
"I do not know how to address this fellow Daoist, nor what business brings you here?"
Jing Qian replied:
"I am Jing Qian. On behalf of my elders, I have come to fulfill our agreement. I am half a year late; may this delay not have caused undue trouble."
As he spoke, he produced the jade slip Fan Zhuoyi had once provided, proof of their contract.
Fan Zhuoyi's composure faltered, her expression tinged with excitement. She said quickly:
"Then please, Daoist Jing, come inside with us!"
The siblings led him through the Fan ancestral home.
Jing Qian studied the pair: both bore refined features, upright bearing, and the unmistakable aura of noble lineage.
But while Zhuoyi seemed calm and resolute, her younger brother, Zhuoyan, was deeply dispirited. His face was slack, his manner dazed, as though the will to speak had deserted him.
In the Kitchen House, Zhuoyan had been lively, talkative, and a natural socialite. Now he looked crushed, struck down by some unseen blow.
Jing Qian betrayed no reaction, simply followed them through halls and courtyards until they reached a sealed chamber.
Once inside, he said plainly:
"If Daoist Zhuoyi is ready, I can now remove your Fate-Locking Needle. Once it succeeds, your Spiritual Construct of Destiny can be forged, and your cultivation will soar. At the same time, the two taels of locked fate will be freed, leaving no hidden danger to your path."
But instead of showing relief, Fan Zhuoyi shook her head.
"Daoist Jing, that matter can wait. I have another request, one that requires the aid of your sect's seniors."
She drew a steadying breath.
"Three months ago, my younger brother completed his Nourishing Yuan stage and attempted to burn his body to fix his fate. He had already awakened a Life Pattern, but for some reason, his body could not contain it. His attempt failed, severing his cultivation path.
"This is not normal. My Fan Clan bears the Star-Seizer Bloodline. Though diluted over generations, as the direct son, Zhuoyan should never have been reduced to failure even as a basic cultivator.
"I fear he, too, has been targeted by Fate-Locking Needles, sabotaged into ruin. I beg you to have your sect's seniors test his fate as well.
"But… our siblings' condition is dire. We cannot afford much right now. Could Daoist Jing extend us some help and allow us to delay payment?"
Jing Qian waved his hand dismissively.
"No need for my elders, and no need for money. I have studied fate-calculation myself and am well-enough trained to divine for one who has only completed Nourishing Yuan. Let me test Zhuoyan's fate as compensation for my late arrival."
At this, even the dull-eyed Fan Zhuoyan flickered with a glimmer of hope.
Fan Zhuoyi excused herself, leaving her brother alone with Jing Qian.
Jing Qian smiled faintly.
"Let us begin right away. No need to keep your sister waiting."
He formed a seal, casting the art of Fate Calculation over Zhuoyan.
Since the boy had not yet fully entered the Dao, reading his destiny was almost trivial. With the aid of Worldly Insight, Jing Qian stripped away all obscurity in an instant:
Fan Zhuoyan
Lifespan: 94 years
Life Measure: 6 taels, 6 taels 8 qian
Life Essence: 2 (White Fang)
Spiritual Construct: Fate-Locking Needles ×3
Extravagant indeed!
Three Fate-Locking Needles, just to cripple a child who hadn't even formally stepped onto the path? Who had money to burn like this?
If they truly wanted to end his future, wouldn't it have been simpler to kill him outright?
Jing Qian shook his head at the twisted politicking of great clans.
"I have the answer. Call your sister back in."
Once the three were together again, Jing Qian explained:
"Just as Daoist Zhuoyi suspected, your brother is not talentless. On the contrary, he carries six taels and eight qian of fate, an excellent endowment.
"But his destiny has been bound by three Fate-Locking Needles. Six taels of his fate are sealed away, leaving only scraps. Not even enough to support the lowest grade White Fang Life Pattern. That is why his attempt to enter the Dao failed."
Fan Zhuoyan's eyes widened, and tears welled.
"I knew it! I knew I wasn't a useless waste! I really did awaken a Life Pattern! I, I…"
His voice broke into sobs.
Jing Qian's words sent the siblings into a storm of emotion.
Fan Zhuoyan, especially, let out an angry roar before collapsing to the ground, wailing like a child.
His failed attempt at entering the Dao had dealt him a crushing blow so devastating that he had nearly broken down entirely. For months, he had fallen into silence, lifeless and numb, as though his very will had been extinguished.
If not for his sister's constant encouragement and this final thread of hope in having his fate tested, he might not have endured this long.
Fan Zhuoyi immediately pulled her brother down into a kneeling position before Jing Qian and pleaded:
"Please, Daoist, help my younger brother break free of this trap!
We cannot gather enough wealth at the moment. Let my own Fate-Locking Needle remain for now only, I beg you, release one from my brother so that he can at least step into the Dao."
But Jing Qian's Worldly Insight had already been whirling, running endless deductions. Zhuoyan's situation was far more complex and dire than his sister's.
Fan Zhuoyi already possessed Azure Wing Life Essence and had forged a Life Pattern. Once her needle was removed, it could merge with her Life Pattern and instantly transform into a Spiritual Construct of Destiny.
But Zhuoyan had not yet succeeded in entering the Dao. If his needle was carelessly removed, the violent surge of fate would kill him on the spot.
Jing Qian carefully explained this key detail to the siblings.
The hope that had just been rekindled in Zhuoyan's eyes immediately dimmed again, teetering on the edge of despair.
At that moment, Jing Qian spoke up:
"However, I do have an unorthodox method. Listen well.
Zhuoyan has three Fate-Locking Needles. If he had already entered the Dao and carried a Life Pattern, then with three attempts, I could reforge all three needles into Spiritual Constructs, leaving him with three constructs of fate, a foundation second to none.
But that vision is like the moon reflected in water, flowers in a mirror: beautiful, but unattainable.
If I extract one needle now, I can free two taels of his fate, enough for him to complete his body-burning and fix his destiny. The deadlock will be broken.
But that one Spiritual Construct will fall into my hands.
The advantage is clear: his path will open, and he can step into cultivation. As payment, I will take that needle as my reward, and in return, I promise to remove all three needles for him across three attempts, at no further cost.
The disadvantage is also clear: he will forever lose the chance to refine all three needles into Spiritual Constructs, a supreme foundation he might otherwise have claimed.
If you can find someone stronger than I, capable of perfectly resolving the three-needle dilemma, then naturally that would be better. But with me, this is the best I can offer."
These were no empty words; this was the best solution Worldly Insight could derive.
Before Fan Zhuoyi could even deliberate, Zhuoyan collapsed into a deep bow, voice trembling but resolute:
"Senior, I beg you, save me!
Not just one needle, take them all if you must! Only free me from this curse, restore my path!"
His sister did not hesitate either. She, too, knelt beside him.
The siblings had been driven to the edge of the cliff; there was no space left to gamble for perfection.
If Zhuoyan's cultivation path truly ended here, then the Fan family's direct line would be cut off entirely.
So long as he could fix his destiny and step into the Dao, they would gain precious time and breathing room.
But Jing Qian shook his head.
"This is no small matter. Do not be hasty; think it through.
For me, one needle as payment is fair; we share no karmic entanglement.
If I were to take two, that would be greed. From then on, we would be strangers.
If I were to take all three, that would be theft, planting a death-feud between us. Even if you accepted now out of desperation, when you grow stronger and face bottlenecks, the memory would breed inner demons. One day, you would turn on me.
So hear me clearly: I will take only one. With that, your fate will be freed, and you will gain two chances to forge Spiritual Constructs. Not perfect, but enough for a vital transformation."
He turned to Zhuoyi.
"Let Zhuoyan think carefully. Meanwhile, I will show you my skill by removing your own Fate-Locking Needle. Then you'll know I do not boast idly."
Without another word, Jing Qian struck.
A filament of brilliance, finer than a breath of air, invisible and intangible, shot into Zhuoyi's spirit.
Delicate yet crushing, it was like a dump truck drifting through a five-turn mountain pass, before smashing headlong into the depths of her sea of consciousness.
There, it hooked something buried in a hidden corner, something she had never touched. With a sharp twist, it yanked out a thorn.
The instant it emerged, Zhuoyi's entire being shuddered. Her spirit warped as though chains had snapped, and her sea of consciousness suddenly expanded by a full third.
Her three Life Patterns flared with unprecedented vitality.
Then the filament whipped, driving the extracted thorn straight into her Embroidering Rivers and Mountains Life Pattern.
She felt as if a heavenly light pierced her spirit, and then her awareness went blank.
In Jing Qian's vision, one tael and two qian of her fate was now borne by the needle, successfully transformed into a Spiritual Construct.
From that moment onward, Fan Zhuoyi's six taels and four qian of fate were fully liberated. With her first Spiritual Construct of Destiny forged, her remaining fate now stood at four taels and three qian; her foundation vastly deepened.
When she came to, she immediately sensed the change.
Her entire cultivation base had been remade from the roots up.
Fan Zhuoyi raised her hand, and a slender golden needle appeared in her palm.
It was the very same Fate-Locking Needle, now subdued and bound under her control as a Spiritual Construct.
With this needle-shaped construct, not only had her combat power skyrocketed, but the Fan clan's secret weaving techniques would now gain an unimaginable boost as well.
A sudden clarity rose within her heart. She had officially broken through to the rank of a Hundred-Forge Craftsman, and her status would never be the same again.
She bowed deeply toward Jing Qian and said,
"Many thanks for your aid, Daoist. To me, this is no different from being given a second life!"
Jing Qian simply replied:
"Think nothing of it, Daoist Fan. A job done for payment, we are square in cause and effect."
This had been his first time using the divine effect of his new Life Pattern of Entwining Karma. Compared to his former Weaver of Souls, this newly born "fishing line" life pattern was immeasurably stronger.
The crystal thread he now wielded had evolved beyond merely manipulating the mind and spirit; it could tug directly at fate and causality itself. Against Fate-Locking Needles, it proved almost effortless.
Fan Zhuoyan, watching his sister's breakthrough, could no longer contain himself.
He once again threw himself to the ground in desperation:
"Senior, I beg you, help me too! I willingly offer up one of my Fate-Locking Needles, please, release me from this torment!
I will never go back on my word. I swear it upon the Dao itself!"
His sister did not hesitate this time either. She added quickly,
"Daoist Jing, please aid my younger brother. My Fan family and the Jinhua Hall will forever remember your kindness."
Jing Qian, having already made his stance clear and shown due restraint, finally nodded.
"Very well. In that case, prepare a quiet chamber for me.
Zhuoyan, your emotions are still unstable. Adjust yourself tonight, come to me tomorrow.
And remember this: once the first needle is removed, you must burn your body and fix your destiny immediately. Only then can the second needle be unlocked. Make ready for that as well."
The three went about their preparations, though each carried different thoughts in their hearts.
...
The following day, Zhuoyan bathed, changed into clean robes, and entered Jing Qian's meditation chamber with utmost care.
Jing Qian seated him cross-legged, then cast out a thread of causality, beginning the ritual once again.
This time, he was not dealing with a cultivator but with an unformed mortal sea of consciousness, making the operation even trickier.
With utmost caution, he spun the causal thread around Zhuoyan's nascent spirit, unraveling it layer by layer until at last, he hooked and drew forth a thorn.
But unlike before, he did not simply redirect the thorn back into the boy's body. He painstakingly and gently extracted it completely, severing all ties between the needle and Zhuoyan.
In that instant, two taels of fate were freed, and even his meager White Fang Life Essence swelled by a full unit.
Zhuoyan could feel the change vividly; the once-murky flow of his inner power had suddenly become clear and agile.
Without Jing Qian's intervention, he would never have known how wretchedly bound he had been before.
Jing Qian waved him out of the chamber.
"Go. Leave the rest to me."
...
Once alone, he stepped back into the Void Realm and began a new seclusion.
The Fate-Locking Needle he had just extracted writhed violently, cocooned within his causal threads.
Then, abruptly, Jing Qian slackened his hold. The needle lunged straight for him, stabbing without hesitation.
He had foreseen this. Without dodging, he allowed it to pierce him.
At once, two taels of his own fate were sealed away.
But this was exactly what he wanted.
He summoned another thread of causality, combing through his own sea of consciousness until he found the freshly buried thorn and wrenched it free.
Then, guiding it with his Life Pattern of Entwining Karma, he forced it into fusion with the needle.
A violent surge shook his inner world. The powers of the Revolving Heavenly Son Seal and the Qingping Sword Casket flared in unison, suppressing the rebellious needle until it bent beneath their might.
At last, the needle and the destiny became one, inseparably entwined.
Thus, Jing Qian gained yet another Spiritual Construct of Destiny.
Not only did it bear one tael and four qian of his causal pattern, but together they formed a perfect pairing of fishing hook and fishing line.
At long last, Jing Qian had assembled the basic tools of a fisherman.
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