The morning after the Su Family left, the estate was wrapped in a melancholic quiet. The festive crimson and gold banners were gone, and the joyful buzz of the celebration had faded, leaving only the regular rhythm of a big family. The silence felt like an absence. Her absence.
I stood in my courtyard with a cup of cold tea, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. My mind kept replaying the past week: the funeral, the engagement, the intimate night I spent with Meira. A part of me, a foolish and romantic part I was still getting used to, wanted to linger in those memories, to enjoy the warmth of that stolen moment.
But the shepherd couldn't afford to sit idle. The wolves were gathering at the edges of the pasture. My new motivation burned in my soul, but it wasn't a weapon. Love could inspire me to fight, but it couldn't win the fight for me. For that, I needed power. An absolutely loyal power.
My system was an unmatched tool for my own growth, but I was just one man. A general, no matter how strong, couldn't win a war alone. The plot of Alchemist Sovereign was a systematic war aimed at my entire family. To counter that, I needed my own army. Not the official Chen Family guards, whose loyalties were to the patriarch and the clan as a whole, but a force that served only me. A secret weapon I could wield in the shadows.
I finished the cold tea in one gulp, the bitter taste matching my cold determination, and walked to my father's study.
He sat at his desk, buried under a mountain of scrolls and account books. The joyful break from the engagement was over, and the burden of managing a declining family had settled back on him. He looked up when I entered, surprise flickering in his eyes. He had expected me to be in secluded training, enjoying the afterglow of my betrothal.
"Arya," he said, setting down his brush. "Is something wrong?"
"No, Father," I replied, bowing respectfully. "But there is something I want to discuss. A proposal."
He gestured to the chair in front of him, his expression turning serious. "Speak."
I stood before him, projecting the same strength and reliability I had shown during the crisis of Chen Wei's death. "The funeral went well. We turned a potential disaster into a show of strength. But it was just a performance. The threats we face are still very real."
He nodded grimly. "That they are. The Jin Family's economic attacks continue, and the Spirit Cauldron Sect tightens its hold on our resources every day. Our foundation is being eroded, piece by piece."
"Exactly," I said, my voice firm. "We are a great tree with deep roots, but our enemies are not trying to chop us down in one blow. They are poisoning the soil around us, hoping we will wither and die on our own. Our family's guards and elders are a strong defense, but they are made to repel a direct attack. They are not suited to fight a war of shadows, whispers, and economic attrition."
I paused, letting my words sink in. "We have too many enemies, and we don't know where they will strike next. We are blind. We need eyes and ears everywhere. We need a force that is not limited by the formal duties of the family guards. A force that can move unseen, gather information, and... remove obstacles before they become threats."
My father narrowed his eyes, the sharp mind of a patriarch analyzing my idea. "What you are suggesting sounds like the Xiao Family's 'Silent Pavilion.' An intelligence network. A den of assassins."
"Not assassins, Father," I corrected him smoothly. "A scalpel. A tool for precise strikes. I want to form an elite unit. We can call them the 'Shadow Guard.' They will consist of our most loyal and capable cultivators, operating entirely in the shadows. Only you and I will know of their existence. They will be my eyes, my ears, and when needed, my hands."
My father was silent for a long moment, his fingers steepled before him. The idea was radical. The Chen Family was a righteous powerhouse. We fought our battles openly, with honor and overwhelming force. Covert operations were for families like the Xiao. Creating such a unit was a step into a morally gray world.
"This is a dangerous path, Arya," he said finally, his voice low.
"We live in dangerous times," I countered without hesitation. "Honor is a luxury we can afford only when we are strong. Our enemies fight without honor. To defeat them, we must be willing to be more ruthless and more cunning. I will lead this unit. They will answer only to me. I will take full responsibility for their actions."
He studied me, his gaze intense. He saw a future leader demanding the authority to wage a new kind of war. He recognized the practical side beneath my cheerful public persona, and for the first time, I think he understood it wasn't a flaw, but a necessity.
"You are to be the next patriarch," he finally said, a mix of resignation and pride in his voice. "It's true that a leader must understand all aspects of power, both the light and the dark. This will be valuable for you. It will teach you to handle the burdens of command and the weight of difficult decisions."
He nodded once. "Very well. I give you permission. But you are right. This unit must remain a complete secret. Its existence must never connect to the family's public face."
"I understand, Father," I replied, a wave of triumph washing over me.
"You will need men," he continued, shifting to a logistical mindset. "Who do you need?"
"Fifty men," I stated confidently. "All at the Peak of the Foundation Establishment realm. They must come from branch families or have risen from the ranks, their loyalty to the main family absolute and unquestionable. I don't want the sons of elders or those with complicated political ties." I wanted soldiers, not politicians.
He nodded again. "It can be done. I will prepare a list of suitable candidates. They will be summoned to the Northern Training Yard at midnight tomorrow, under the guise of a special night-time patrol assignment. From there, they will belong to you."
"Thank you, Father," I said, bowing deeply.
"Don't thank me, Arya," he replied, his expression serious. "You are forging a blade. Be ready for the day you may need to use it. And be ready for the blood that will be on your hands when you do."
I left the study, my mind already racing with plans. The next night, under a moonless sky, I made my way to the meeting point. The Northern Training Yard was a secluded spot on the estate, backed against the high outer walls. It was used for large-scale drills and was always empty at night.
But tonight, it wasn't.
Fifty figures stood in perfect formation in the center of the yard. They were dressed in the dark blue uniforms of the family's elite guard. Their auras were strong and steady, all at the peak of the Foundation Establishment realm, just one step away from forming their Golden Core. They stood like statues, disciplined and focused, with a palpable sense of anticipation and confusion in the air.
I stepped out of the shadows, my own Golden Core aura deliberately lowered to match a Foundation Establishment expert. I wanted to meet them on their level, not as a lofty genius, but as their commander.