Two days passed peacefully for Fu Yang.
It was now the fifteenth day since his regression, and his body had grown noticeably healthier compared to when he first returned. His once pallid skin now carried a faint glow, his breathing was smoother, and his sharp eyes no longer carried the fatigue of constant strain.
He stood quietly near the village gate, which was built from thick wooden logs stacked and reinforced with iron nails. Guards patrolled along its length, spears in hand, their presence giving the villagers a sense of safety. Fu Yang, however, wasn't watching them—his attention lay beyond the gate. His eyes, as sharp as a hawk's, observed the horizon with calm anticipation.
Minutes slipped by, the air heavy with expectation. Then, the faintest smile appeared on Fu Yang's lips.
"They are here."
Pooooo—pooooo!
Dum! Dum! Dum!
The sound of horns and drums echoed across the open fields.
A guard shouted, his voice breaking with excitement, "The caravan is here! Open the gate!"
Villagers who had been waiting nearby erupted into cheers.
"Haha, the caravan is here at last!"
"Finally, at last ican sell my things."
"We can trade for salt, herbs, even fabrics!"
The heavy wooden gates creaked and groaned as they swung open. From the dust of the road emerged a grand caravan. Horses neighed loudly, while massive wild boars pulled the heaviest carts, their tusks gleaming as they snorted clouds of steam into the crisp air.
Five carts in total rolled into the village, each covered with protective tarps and surrounded by armed escorts. From within, travelers waved cheerfully, and the villagers responded with eager cries of welcome. Children ran to the roadside, jumping and pointing at the strange sights.
Fu Yang stood silently to the side, his gaze sweeping over every cart. His eyes glinted with intent—as though searching for a single detail in the flood of noise and movement. Then, at last, he saw what he had been waiting for.
His faint smile deepened, and without hesitation, he turned and slipped away into the crowd like a shadow.
—
On one of the carts, a young girl sat in the protective arms of an old man. Her laughter was bright and clear, carrying the innocence of youth. She leaned forward, her wide eyes drinking in every detail of the lively village.
"Grandfather, this place is just as peaceful and beautiful as you described to me!"
The old man's wrinkled face softened. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and though he said nothing, a low chuckle escaped his throat. He held her a little closer, his silence filled with affection.
—
In the heart of the market, noise thundered.
Cling! Cling!
Thud! Bang!
Metal clashed as crates were unloaded from carts. Merchants barked orders while villagers swarmed around, their arms full of goods to trade—furs, vegetables, pottery, and tools. Every stall was bursting with life, as though the entire village had woken from its slumber for this one event.
Among the caravan, the main cart—the one carrying the old man and his granddaughter—slowly rolled toward a newly established building on the far end of the square.
At the entrance, four elders of the Nian Clan were already waiting, their robes neat, expressions solemn yet eager.
When the cart stopped, the old man stepped down first, his movements calm but carrying a weight of dignity. He held the girl's small hand firmly, guiding her with the same patience as one would guide a precious gem.
The elders immediately bowed and greeted him with warm smiles.
"Welcome, welcome to our newly established clan," one elder said with a loud voice. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, clan leader Rion Yan."
The old man returned a polite smile but offered no words in reply. The little girl clung to his leg, her large eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces. Her timidness only added to her charm, and murmurs of admiration passed through the watching villagers.
Elder Mo Mi's expression softened. She crouched slightly, her voice warm. "Oh, Sir Rion, is this your granddaughter? She's so adorable. What is your name, little one? Ah—my apologies, I should introduce myself first. I am Mo Mi."
The girl hesitated for a heartbeat, then straightened her back with surprising composure. She released her grandfather's leg and bowed gracefully. Her voice, though youthful, was calm and clear.
"My name is Cin Yan, Miss Mi. It is a pleasure to meet you."
The elders exchanged glances, laughter bubbling from their throats.
"Hahaha! Such elegance at her age."
"Truly worthy of the Yan Clan's bloodline!"
They each introduced themselves in turn before leading the pair toward the clan's temporary hall.
The building was modest, only three stories high and still half under construction, scaffolding wrapping around its frame. But it stood tall enough to command respect, a symbol of the clan's growing power.
As they walked, the elders spoke eagerly, trying to draw words from the guest.
"Hahaha, Sir Yan, your granddaughter is not only knowledgeable in cultivation but also in etiquette. She is truly the flower of the Yan Clan."
But throughout their attempts, Rion Yan remained quiet. He answered only with faint smiles, his silence polite yet impenetrable. Behind their courtesy, the elders' frustration grew.
Finally, they reached the hall.
Inside, the air was still. At the top seat sat Bai Nian, dressed in scholarly robes embroidered with the mark of the clan. When he rose, his eyes sharpened, and he released his aura in greeting.
Woooooosh!
The pressure spread through the room like a heavy tide, forcing some attendants to step back instinctively.
Rion Yan's lips curved faintly. He exhaled, releasing his own aura—ancient, vast, and crushing. The two invisible forces met in the air, clashing in silence. The wooden beams of the hall groaned faintly under the weight.
Bai Nian's heart tightened, but he stood his ground. Then, almost as quickly as it came, both withdrew their power.
For the first time since his arrival, Rion Yan spoke. His voice was deep yet calm.
"Bai Nian, you have grown strong."
Bai Nian threw back his head and laughed heartily, though respect laced his tone.
"Hahaha! I thank the esteemed clan leader of the Yan Clan for his praise. Please, sit. Today, you and your granddaughter shall be our honored guests."
Rion Yan looked down at Cin Yan, who gazed up at him expectantly. With her small nod, he turned back to Bai Nian.
"We accept. But there is no need to call me 'clan leader.' I stepped down long ago and passed that duty to my son. I am only an old man caring for his granddaughter now. What you should concern yourself with is your clan's future."
His eyes softened as he looked down at Cin Yan, brushing her hair gently. Then he raised his gaze again.
"However, I would like to request that the Nian Clan allow us to stay here for a while, and that my granddaughter be permitted to study in your academy."
The hall fell utterly silent. Elders exchanged glances, their expressions flickering between caution and delight.
Bai Nian's silence stretched for a long breath. Finally, he nodded, his smile blooming once more.
"Of course. You may stay as long as you wish. And young Miss Yan will be more than welcome in our academy. Her presence will be a blessing."
"This old man thanks you for your kindness," Rion Yan replied with a faint bow.
Bai Nian turned to Li Tian, his voice crisp.
"Please, Elder Li, escort Sir Yan and Miss Yan to their quarters."
Li Tian's eyes gleamed. He bowed respectfully, gesturing for the guests to follow.
As the pair left the hall, Bai Nian's smile faded. His voice turned solemn.
"Take care of them very well. We cannot afford to offend this man."
"Yes, Clan Leader," the elders answered in unison, their voices heavy with acknowledgment.