The grand banquet hall, which had been lively since morning, was now nearing its end.
By noon, most family elders and their members had already departed.
What was once filled with laughter and overlapping voices had fallen into silence.
Only a few dozen people remained inside the vast hall.
Fang Lin had already finished eating.
He had even tasted a little wine—though he originally had no intention of starting so soon.
However, under Tian Xueya's gentle yet firm insistence, he found himself helpless.
After all, refusing the concern of one of the Southern Wildland's top three beauties was no easy task.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance of the banquet hall.
An old man walked in.
His face was lined with deep wrinkles, his beard and hair completely white.
At a glance, he looked like a veteran who had lived through countless storms.
He was the very same elder who had represented the Fang family earlier in the Tian Court.
The old man walked straight toward Fang Qinxian and bowed respectfully.
"Family Head," he said solemnly,
"please forgive my sudden intrusion during your banquet. I have come bearing an important announcement declared by the Clan Head himself."
For a brief moment, the entire hall fell into silence.
All eyes turned toward the elder.
Fang Lin was among those watching.
So were his parents.
Mu Chen had stayed behind as well, unwilling to leave his friend just yet.
Tian Xueya was still present too, accompanied by her elder and servant.
No one dared question her presence—doing so would offend the Tian family, and offending the Tian family meant standing against the entire clan.
Several members of the Hunters remained as well.
Among them stood an old hunter with weathered features, beside him a ten-year-old child whose face showed no emotion at all.
A few other hunters stood nearby, bows and arrows in hand.
Some carried spears instead.
Their bodies looked rugged and wild.
They wore old, deep-orange robes, torn in several places.
They were far from elegant—but the battle intent radiating from them formed a heavy, oppressive pressure.
Fang Qinxian finally broke the silence.
"What news has come from the court, Sixth Supreme Elder?"
The old man straightened.
"In ten days," he announced evenly,
"all youths who awakened their Primal Sea are to depart for the Holy Sword Sect."
A slight pause followed.
"During these ten days, there will be no private matches, no duels, and no fights among the awakened youngsters.
Anyone who violates this rule will be disqualified and barred from entering the Holy Sword Sect."
The words settled heavily in the air.
After the announcement, a single thought echoed in everyone's mind: "Ten days."
Mu Chen was the first to react, his eyes lighting up as he glanced at Fang Lin. "Ten days… ten days from now, we'll be heading to the sect?" His voice trembled slightly with excitement.
Fang Lin's expression reflected a flicker of curiosity, a subtle tightening around his eyes as he processed the news.
The Hunters' family, as always, remained untouched by emotion, their faces unreadable and their posture rigid, like statues carved from the wild.
Tian Xueya, seated calmly nearby with her attendant, betrayed no hint of reaction either. Her serene composure remained unshaken, as if she had already anticipated this announcement.
The Sixth Supreme Elder bowed slightly, his voice calm yet filled with respect. "So… shall I proceed, Family Head?"
Fang Qinxian's gaze met his, steady and authoritative. "Yes. Go and announce this to the other family members."
With a solemn nod, the elder turned and exited the hall, his steps measured and purposeful. Once he had gone, silence settled over the remaining guests for a brief moment, as if the hall itself was holding its breath in anticipation.
Fang Qinxian slowly shifted his gaze toward Fang Lin. His eyes were calm, yet carried a natural authority that made it impossible to ignore.
"Fang Lin, come here."
Fang Lin straightened slightly and stepped forward.
Fang Qinxian then turned his eyes toward the group standing a little apart from the others—the people whose presence felt different from the noble families of the hall.
"These people," Fang Qinxian said evenly, "are not from within the city walls. They live below the mountain ranges. Their family belongs to the Rukhan Deepwild Lineage."
At those words, Fang Lin's attention was drawn fully toward them.
The man standing at the front of the group appeared to be in his late fifties. His body was tall and broad, built like weathered stone rather than refined muscle. Deep lines were carved into his face, not from age alone, but from years of wind, rain, and survival in harsh lands. His skin was slightly darkened, roughened by the wild sun, and his eyes were sharp—quiet, alert, and heavy with experience.
He wore a deep orange robe made of thick, practical cloth, old and faded, with visible stitch marks where it had been repaired many times. There was nothing decorative about it—only function. A worn leather belt wrapped around his waist, from which hung hunting tools rather than ornaments.
Behind him stood several members of the lineage, their physiques lean and hardened. Some carried bows across their backs, others spears with darkened shafts. Their clothes were similarly simple and worn, marked by tears that had been mended rather than replaced. Each of them stood straight, unmoving, like predators at rest.
Beside the elder stood a young boy—no more than ten years old.
The child's appearance contrasted sharply with what Fang Lin expected. His face was clean and pale, his features gentle, yet his eyes were empty—emotionless, as still as a frozen lake. He did not look around, nor did he react to the surroundings. He simply stood there in silence, hands relaxed at his sides, as if detached from everything around him.
There was no fear in him. No curiosity. No excitement.
Only silence.
Fang Lin felt a faint chill crawl up his spine.
These were not ordinary hunters.
Fang Qinxian continued, raising his hand slightly as he gestured toward the old hunter standing at the front.
"This is the head of the Rukhan Lineage," he said calmly.
"Kael Rukhan."
The old man stepped forward half a pace and lowered his head in a restrained bow. His movements were slow and steady, carrying neither arrogance nor servility—only dignity forged through survival.
Fang Qinxian's gaze then shifted to the child standing silently beside him.
"And this," he continued, his voice softening just slightly, "is Vren Rukhan."
The boy did not react.
He neither bowed nor lifted his head.
His eyes remained still, unfocused, as though the name itself meant nothing to him.
Fang Lin's gaze lingered on the child for a moment longer than intended. Something about that silence felt… heavy, as if it concealed a past far deeper than his age suggested.
Fang Qinxian finally swept his eyes toward the others standing behind them.
"The rest are elders of the Rukhan Lineage."
At his words, the hunters bowed together, their movements rough yet perfectly synchronized—like beasts acknowledging a long-standing pact rather than a superior.
Kael Rukhan hurried to his son's side and gently held him by the shoulder. Bowing slightly toward Fang Lin, he spoke in a low, respectful voice.
"Young Master Fang Lin, please do not misunderstand."
He then turned his gaze toward Fang Qinxian and the other elders present, his voice carrying a trace of heaviness.
"You all are already aware of that incident. It is because of it that he ended up in this state. He was not like this before… but he will recover soon."
Vren Rukhan, however, remained standing exactly as he was.
His small figure was still, his posture straight. There was no fear, no curiosity, no emotion in his eyes—only an unsettling calm, as if the noise of the world could no longer reach him.
Fang Lin fell into deep thought.
What kind of incident could leave such a deep scar on a child so young, he wondered, to the point that all interest in the world was extinguished?
After a brief pause, Fang Lin looked directly at the head of the lineage and spoke with sincerity.
"Please forgive my bluntness," he said calmly, "but may I know what exactly happened in that incident?"
Kael Rukhan looked at Fang Lin in disbelief.
"Does this child truly not know what happened that day… what happened to his elder sister and my son?" he murmured.
His gaze then shifted toward Fang Hanbo and Lady Su'er. Their expressions darkened instantly upon hearing those words. Seeing their reaction, a thought surfaced in Kael Rukhan's mind.
What I heard about Fang Lin's own incident… could it be that because of that incident, he forgot everything?
Kael's eyes moved once more—this time toward Fang Qinxian, the current head of the Fang family. Fang Qinxian met his gaze briefly, sending a silent message straight into his mind.
After receiving it, Kael Rukhan forced a faint, artificial smile onto his face and spoke aloud.
"That day… nothing too complicated happened," he said slowly.
"His brother went to Fallen God Peak with his elder sister. Unfortunately, his fate was extremely cruel. A Rank-5 beast appeared out of nowhere and devoured his brother right before his eyes."
Kael's voice trembled.
"That shock… it broke him. Even now, he has not recovered. He loved his brother deeply."
Tears welled up in Kael Rukhan's eyes.
Hearing this, Fang Lin's own eyes grew moist.
How cruel… how tragic, Fang Lin thought.
He walked toward Vren, bent slightly, and gently held the boy's shoulders.
"Don't worry," Fang Lin said softly, smiling.
"I'm here now. You can stay with me from now on."
He reached out and gently patted Vren's head.
Just then, a weak, trembling voice echoed—
"Big brother…"
Tears finally streamed down from Vren's eyes as he suddenly hugged Fang Lin tightly, his small body shaking.
The hunters of the Rukhan lineage watched the scene in stunned silence.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
In their minds, the same thought echoed again and again.
How is this possible…?
Since that day, Vren hasn't spoken to anyone.
No matter who tried—elders, warriors, even his own father—he never reacted.
We believed he would never walk out of that trauma… not in this lifetime.
Their gazes slowly shifted toward Fang Lin.
Admiration—pure and unfiltered—filled their eyes.
One by one, the hunters straightened their backs and bowed deeply toward him, fists pressed to their chests.
"Young Master Fang Lin," one of them said with sincere reverence,
"you are truly kind-hearted and noble. Your voice alone has awakened our young master. You have done what none of us could."
Kael Rukhan stepped forward as well.
The hardened lineage head, who had endured countless battles and losses, now looked at Fang Lin with complicated emotion.
A faint, genuine smile appeared on his weathered face.
"It seems," Kael said slowly,
"that Vren has already accepted you… as his big brother."
The hall remained quiet.
For a brief moment, the hall remained silent.
Fang Qinxian was the first to respond.
He looked at Fang Lin steadily, his gaze deep and unreadable, then shifted to the child standing beside him. After a pause, he spoke in a calm, measured tone,
"You did nothing wrong."
Those simple words carried weight.
Fang Lin's parents, who had been standing quietly all this time, finally moved.
His mother was the first to step forward. Her eyes were slightly red, but there was no fear in them—only warmth. She looked at Vren, then at Fang Lin, and gently said,
"You just acted from your heart."
His father nodded beside her, his expression firm yet proud.
"A person's worth isn't measured by strength alone," he added.
"It's also measured by how they treat the weak."
The Rukhan hunters exchanged glances among themselves. Their hardened expressions softened, just a little.
Kael Rukhan lowered his head respectfully.
"Then we are relieved," he said quietly.
"If our child can find peace beside you, that is more than we hoped for."
Vren tightened his grip on Fang Lin's hand, as if afraid he might disappear.
Fang Lin felt the small warmth in his palm and exhaled slowly.
From a short distance away, Tian Xueya stood silently.
She had not stepped forward, nor had she spoken a single word since the moment the child clung to Fang Lin. Her posture remained straight, hands lightly folded before her, her expression as calm as still water.
Yet her eyes never left Fang Lin.
She watched how he knelt without hesitation.
How he spoke gently, without arrogance.
How his touch carried reassurance rather than authority.
Most importantly—
how the hall itself had gone quiet because of him.
This was not the reaction of someone trying to gain favor.
Nor was it the performance of a boy drunk on sudden status.
"It was natural," she thought.
"Too natural."
Her gaze shifted briefly to Vren, then to the Rukhan hunters who had lowered their heads. A faint ripple passed through her eyes—something close to surprise, but quickly suppressed.
Strength could be trained.
Talent could be nurtured.
But this—
This kind of presence was rare.
She took a slow sip of wine, her movements graceful and controlled, then lowered the cup.
"So this is Fang Lin," she murmured inwardly.
"Not loud… not ambitious… yet he moves people without realizing it."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful now.
"This changes more than the Fang family."
She turned her gaze toward Fang Qinxian for a brief moment, then back to Fang Lin.
The banquet hall was quiet once more.
Fang Lin was starting to feel truly awkward under so many gazes.
The hall was too quiet.
Too many eyes were fixed on him.
He glanced down at Vren, who was still holding onto his sleeve, then looked around at the elders, the hunters, and even his own family. A faint, helpless smile appeared on his face.
"…This is getting a bit uncomfortable," he thought.
Lowering his voice, Fang Lin bent slightly toward the boy and spoke gently,
"Do you want to go outside with me for a walk?"
For the first time since entering the hall, Vren reacted on his own.
His grip loosened a little.
He slowly lifted his head and looked at Fang Lin's face. His eyes were still wet, but the emptiness within them had softened. After a brief hesitation, he nodded—very lightly.
"Yes," he whispered.
That single word stunned everyone.
The Rukhan hunters exchanged shocked glances.
Kael Rukhan's breath caught in his throat.
Fang Lin, however, did not overthink it. He simply smiled, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
"Alright," he said. "Let's go."
Just as Fang Lin and Vren were about to leave the hall, hurried footsteps came from behind.
"Hey—wait for me!"
Mu Chen jogged over, his orange robe swaying as he moved. He looked at Fang Lin, then at the small boy beside him, and scratched his head with a grin.
"Going for a walk without me? That's not fair."
Fang Lin paused and glanced at him, slightly surprised.
"You're coming too?"
"Of course," Mu Chen replied casually. "It's too quiet in here anyway. Makes my head hurt."
He then bent down a little and looked at Vren, his voice deliberately lighter.
"So… little brother, do you like swords?"
Vren didn't answer, but he didn't pull away either. He only tightened his grip on Fang Lin's hand, his gaze flickering briefly toward fang lin's sword.
Without another word, the three of them walked out together—
"Are you forgetting about me?"
A cold female voice sounded from behind them, carrying a pressure that instantly spread through the hall. For a brief moment, everyone's gaze turned in the direction of that voice.
Fang Lin stopped and turned back, murmuring under his breath,
"Now who is it that wants to come along too…"
When his eyes met hers, he paused.
"Oh… you. Tian Xueya."
He thought to himself, Why does she want to come? I thought she only came because of the Patriarch's order—to deliver the storage ring.
Putting on a polite, almost forced smile, Fang Lin spoke aloud,
"Ah… sure. If you want to come, you can join us."
Tian Xueya calmly placed her wine cup back onto the bench. Then she turned her head slightly toward the elder and the female servant beside her.
"You two may leave now."
The elder showed no reaction at all, as if he had already expected this outcome. He simply stood there, silent and composed.
The female servant, however, hesitated, worry clear in her eyes.
"But… young miss—"
Tian Xueya's gaze sharpened instantly as she cut her off.
"Do you have a problem with that?"
The servant stiffened, her face paling slightly.
"N-no… of course not."
She lowered her head at once. Without another word, both she and the elder stepped back, retreating from the hall.
Tian Xueya then turned toward Fang Lin, Mu Chen, and Vren, her expression calm and unreadable, as if this situation was entirely natural to her.
Mu Chen blinked, then leaned slightly toward Fang Lin and whispered,
"…Looks like this walk just got a lot more interesting."
Fang Lin let out a quiet sigh.
So much for a simple walk, he thought.
Still, he said nothing more. Holding Vren's hand, he stepped forward— and this time, there were four of them walking out of the hall together.