a week had passed, the boy's story had spread throughout the entire village and become well-known. During this time, the injuries and scars left by the beast's fangs had completely healed. With their recovery complete, everyone was once again in their full spirit.
Within this time, many other boys of the same age also began to dream of gaining fame like Yunkai Tao and the others. Their young hearts burned with pride, and the thought of battling a beast and returning as heroes filled them with restless excitement.
But their parents knew the danger that lurked outside the village. They had seen the wounds, the exhaustion, and the heavy air around the returning group. So, the elders gave a strict order:
"No one is to leave the village without their parents' permission. The guards are not to let any child step beyond the gates."
The command spread quickly, and soon even the guards tightened their watch, spears firm in their grip, eyes scanning the paths.
Yet not all the boys were obedient. Some of the more arrogant ones, driven by pride and envy, whispered among themselves. "If Yunkai Tao can do it, why can't we?"
Late the next day, they slipped past the guards under careful timing, hiding their movements with laughter and casual talk. Even their parents believed they were still playing near the village square. Only when the group reached the edge of the forest did their smiles widen. They had escaped both the guards' and their parents' eyes.
But before they could venture deeper, before even the shadow of a beast could cross their path, a sudden pressure filled the air.
Their bodies grew heavy as if invisible chains wrapped around their shoulders. Breathing became difficult, their knees shook, and within a few breaths, all of them collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
Through the haze of their blurred vision, a figure appeared.
It was Tong Chen—an elder of the village, a man both feared and respected. His presence alone carried the weight of a mountain. Belonging to the powerful Chen family, one of the Four Great Families, his reputation was unmatched.
Though called an elder, Tong Chen was not yet old; he was in his late thirties, perhaps nearing forty, the prime of a cultivator's strength. His frame was tall and broad-shouldered, built with the steady power of someone forged through years of training. His black hair was tied back neatly with a jade clasp, only a few strands falling freely across his brow, giving him a rugged yet dignified look.
He wore a long dark-blue robe embroidered with faint silver patterns of clouds and dragons—subtle, yet commanding. A thin belt of black leather secured the robe at his waist, from which hung a small jade pendant that softly glowed in the sunlight. His boots, plain yet sturdy, were marked with the dust of many journeys beyond the village, hinting that his steps were not confined to safety.
His face was sharp, with defined cheekbones and eyes like cold steel—calm, unwavering, and capable of silencing a room with a single glance. Even when he smiled, there was an unshakable weight behind it, the kind of presence that made both children and adults instinctively straighten their backs.
Around him lingered a faint aura, not visible yet strongly felt, as if the air itself thickened wherever he stood. It was neither violent nor gentle, but a steady, crushing pressure that reminded everyone why Tong Chen was one of the pillars of the Chen family.
The boys and girls trembled, not because he raised a hand, but because his very aura pressed them flat against the earth.
"Fame is not won through arrogance," Tong Chen's deep voice rumbled, calm yet sharp as steel. "You think courage means running into death? Foolishness will not bring honor to your families—it will only bring grief."
His eyes swept over the group, and none dared to move, their breaths ragged under the crushing pressure.
Among the group that collapsed under Tong Chen's aura, two stood out—not only because of their surname, but because of their expressions.
One was Ye Chen, a girl of eight, perhaps nearing nine. Her face was round but delicate, with eyes too large for her small face, framed by soft strands of black hair that slipped loose from her braid. Though her body was thin and childlike, her quiet posture carried a hidden stubbornness. She looked fragile, yet her gaze was sharp, almost resentful.
She bit her lip lightly before asking in a soft, almost questioning tone,
"Uncle Tong… why are you here?"
Her words carried no direct disrespect, but the undertone of resentment was clear. In her young heart, she couldn't understand why this elder, who was supposed to be outside the village, had suddenly appeared only to stop them. For her, it felt unfair—why must he block their path to fame, when they too wanted to prove themselves?
Beside her knelt Wu Chen, a boy of the same age. His features were sharper than his cousin's, his jaw already carrying a faint outline of firmness uncommon in children. His dark eyes shone with seriousness, and though his small body trembled under the weight of Tong Chen's presence, his back remained straight. Unlike Ye Chen, he felt no resentment. To him, this elder was a figure of strength and dignity, someone he admired deeply.
Wu Chen pressed his forehead low, bowing with the etiquette he had been taught since childhood. His young voice, though weak from the pressure, rang clear:
"Uncle Tong, this boy Wu Chen greets you with respect."
The words silenced the group for a moment.
Tong Chen's gaze shifted toward him, and for the first time his stern expression softened. He had expected only resentment—he could feel it pouring from the eyes of nearly every child before him. In their gazes, he was no longer a protector, but an obstacle, a barrier crushing their pride.
But this boy, Wu Chen, greeted him as naturally as he always had in the past—without arrogance, without anger. Just respect.
Tong Chen let his eyes sweep once more across the others, noting how they looked at him as if he were the executioner of their dreams, the slayer of their ambitions. Only Wu Chen stood apart, reminding him of the discipline and spirit the Chen family once held in its children.
For a breath, the elder was silent. The children, pinned to the earth, waited—resentment burning in some eyes, quiet defiance in Ye Chen's, but unwavering respect in Wu Chen's.
Tong Chen stood in silence for a moment, his sharp eyes watching the children who were still pressed into the dirt by his aura. Their young faces were pale, their breaths heavy, but the spark of defiance in some of them burned brighter than ever.
He knew well that if he only scolded them, they would find another way to sneak out. The spirit of youth was like wildfire—suppression only made it burn stronger.
If I cannot stop them with rules, I must give them another path, he thought.
The elder's stern expression shifted slightly, and then—unexpectedly—he smiled. Slowly, he withdrew the heavy pressure that weighed on their small bodies. Like a mountain lifting from their chests, the children gasped and coughed, struggling to their feet.
Then his deep, calm voice spread across the clearing, carrying both mystery and weight:
"So… you all wish to be famous, to prove your abilities?"
The words cut directly to their hearts. Some of the children's eyes widened, some lowered their heads, but none denied it. The ambition they carried was exposed in the open.
From among them, one boy stepped forward.
This was Yan Lie, of the Yan family—one of the Four Great Families alongside the Chen. He was around nine, tall for his age, with sharp brows and a proud posture that seemed inherited from his clan's martial lineage. Though still young, there was already a faint trace of command in his voice, the kind that drew others to follow.
Yan Lie first bowed respectfully, his fists cupped in the proper greeting.
"Elder Tong, this junior greets you."
Lifting his head, his expression showed confusion mixed with curiosity.
"Elder Tong… can you please explain to us? How can we show our abilities?"
His voice trembled only slightly. The question was not asked in arrogance but in genuine doubt. For in the children's minds, there had been only one way to prove themselves: to venture into the forest and return victorious. Yet here was Tong Chen, an elder, speaking as though another path existed.
All of them knew the village elders forbade stepping into the forest without permission. Yet Tong Chen's words hinted at something different, something that might give them the chance they sought.
The group of boys and girls exchanged glances, their young eyes full of anticipation. For the first time, instead of resentment, a flicker of hope and curiosity appeared.
Tong Chen's mysterious smile deepened as he looked at Yan Lie, then at the rest of the children. His mind was already turning—he had found a way to channel their reckless spirit without letting them run blindly to their deaths.
Tong Chen's gaze swept across the group. His eyes narrowed, and with a voice that carried both mockery and challenge, he said:
"So… you wish to compete with Tao and his group? To prove you are the same? That you too have the ability to face beasts and return alive even with hardships?"
The words cut into the children like a spark. Though spoken with a mocking smile, they carried no cruelty—only the tone of an elder who knew how to poke their pride while fanning their spirit.
Several pairs of young eyes brightened instantly.
From the crowd, another girl stepped forward. She was Xiao Mei, from the Xiao family, one of the Four Great Families known for their refined arts and clever strategies. She was around eight years old, with long black hair tied in twin braids, her round cheeks giving her a soft and innocent look. Yet her eyes were lively and mischievous, always sparkling with ideas. Xiao Mei was known in the village for her sharp tongue and quick wit, often leading the games among the children.
Beside her stood Xiao Rui, her cousin, a boy of the same age. Unlike Xiao Mei's playfulness, Xiao Rui was quiet and observant. His lean frame and serious eyes made him seem older than he was, as though he was always thinking three steps ahead. Though he rarely spoke, when he did, his words carried weight among his peers.
Both children suddenly burst out together, their earlier resentment forgotten as if it never existed. Their voices rang with pure joy:
"Elder Tong—are you serious?! You really have a way?"
They were almost bouncing on their feet, the arrogance from earlier dissolving into the innocent excitement only children could show. Their hearts had longed for recognition, and now an elder himself was offering them a path.
Tong Chen's smile deepened. He could see it clearly—their resentment was already fading, replaced by eagerness.
Finally, the last of the four families was represented. From the Liang family, known for their martial discipline and unwavering loyalty, came two children.
The boy, Liang Hao, was sturdy and broad-shouldered for his age, with short-cropped hair and an energetic presence. Even when scolded, he always laughed, his personality bold and straightforward. Many children followed his lead because of his fearless nature.
At his side was his younger sister, Liang Yue, just a year younger, with soft features and bright almond-shaped eyes. Though gentle in manner, she often surprised others with her stubborn determination. Once she decided something, no one could sway her.
Liang Hao, grinning from ear to ear, was the first to speak, his voice booming with excitement:
"Elder Tong! Tell us! Tell us the way! We want to prove ourselves too!"
Even Liang Yue, usually reserved, clasped her hands in front of her and said softly yet firmly:
"Please, Elder Tong… we want this chance."
Now, gathered before him stood the children of the Chen, Yan, Xiao, and Liang families—the heirs of the village's four great clans. Their resentment was gone, replaced by shining eyes, filled with both hope and challenge.
Tong Chen stood in the center of it all, his powerful presence towering over them, his plan firmly in mind. He had drawn their spirits away from reckless rebellion… and into his grasp.