Chapter 30: "Quan’er, You Are the Future Heir of the Chen Clan."
????Jiangbei City
??Jiangbei City—renowned for its bustling morning market—was still sodden from days of unending rain, yet even under a blanket of lingering drizzle, the city began to stir.
??Murky streams coursed along the flagstone streets, pooling at the mouths of narrow alleys. Vendors, practiced and unhurried, rolled their trouser legs up to the knee and waded barefoot through ankle-deep water, setting up their stalls with practiced efficiency.
??Soon, the patter of rain was drowned out by the rising clamor of peddlers and hawkers. As the Eternal Night finally faded, the city itself seed to wake from a restless sleep.
??The air, thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth, was now laced with the aroma of steaming, fragrant food.
??The morning market had co alive.
??Even with the Rainy Season arriving early, nothing could halt the morning market. People still had to eat. For the common folk, all one could do was accept fate and carry on—resistance was futile.
??Yet, in a courtyard just a street away from the vibrant marketplace, an uncanny stillness prevailed—a silence that stood in stark contrast to the commotion outside.
??This was the grand estate of the Jiangbei Chen Clan, nestled at the heart of Jiangbei City.
??One of the city’s three great powers.
??...
??In the rear courtyard of the Chen Clan estate, within a small yard bordered by side rooms, a middle-aged man in training robes stood unmoving in the pouring rain. His expression was solemn, eyes closed, palms pressed together in silent ditation.
??Suddenly—
??His eyes snapped open, a cold gleam flickering within.
??The Level 2 Ghoststones in his palm shattered in unison, liquefying into wisps of ghostly green that hovered in the air.
??“Go.”
??At his command, he pointed forward. The green essence shot through the air, swirling and weaving itself into the faint outline of an Arrow Tower—translucent, yet unmistakable.
??So of the pale green vapor dissipated into the falling rain as the form took shape.
??“Rise!”
??A heartbeat later, the man clenched his fist.
??The spectral Arrow Tower solidified, materializing in the center of the courtyard, rainwater cascading down its sides.
??At his side, a servant sheltered beneath an oil-paper umbrella bead with admiration. “Elder Liu, your mastery of Ghoststone energy has only grown. Now you can forge an Arrow Tower with just five Level 2 Ghoststones.”
??“These days, hiring a Builder to construct an Arrow Tower for your Camp costs at least 150 Ghoststones on the market.”
??“The standard fee is usually around 100 Ghoststones.”
??“That old Level 4 Builder the Chen Clan used to employ? He needed 70 Ghoststones just to make a single Arrow Tower.”
??“But now, Elder Liu, you require only 50 Ghoststones—and your success rate has reached seventy percent!”
??“At this rate, you’ll soon be the undisputed top Builder in all of Jiangbei!”
??“Hmph.”
??The middle-aged man grunted, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. As the Chen Clan’s resident Level 5 Builder, he had every reason to be pleased. Yet, after glancing around the courtyard, a faint frown creased his brow. “Where’s the Clan Head? He usually joins
for morning practice.”
??“This servant does not know.”
??“Leave . I’ll find him myself.”
??...
??Jiangbei Chen Clan, Side Courtyard, Council Hall
??The current heir of the Chen Clan—the very youth who had personally exiled Chen Fan to the Wasteland—had been roused at dawn by news of an ergency council eting. He hastily dressed and hurried through the rain to the council hall.
??Upon entering—
??He found the Clan Head already seated at the head of the table, flanked on either side by the five ranking elders of the Jiangbei Chen Clan.
??“Father.”
??He bowed his head, greeting his father before taking his seat. The atmosphere was tense; his father’s face was grim, colored by anger, frustration, and—just barely—a trace of disbelief.
??Had sothing happened to the clan?
??“Quan’er has arrived. Everyone’s present. This ergency eting concerns the very future of the Chen Clan. Speak freely—if you have thoughts or opinions, do not hold back.”
??Quan’er—his childhood na. His full na: Chen Quan.
??The first heir of the Jiangbei Chen Clan.
??Everyone’s here?
??Chen Quan’s gaze flickered to the empty seat across the table—the one reserved for Elder Liu. No matter how minor the eting, Elder Liu, the Level 5 Builder, was always present.
??Elder Liu often complained about this, saying he was just a Builder, not a strategist, and had no ti for endless council discussions—he needed to cultivate.
??But today, Elder Liu hadn’t been summoned.
??What could be so sensitive that even the clan’s only Builder was excluded?
??A faint unease crept into Chen Quan’s heart.
??He kept his head down, feigning composure—eyes on his nose, nose on his heart. He was still too inexperienced; whatever was happening likely had nothing to do with him. Best to remain silent and stay out of trouble.
??And yet—
??His father’s next words sent a chill through him, cold sweat breaking out across his back.
??“Chen Fan—my son.”
??“A few days ago, he was sent to the Wasteland, to serve as Station Master of Waystation No. 37 under the Jiangbei Chen Clan.”
??“His sole attendant was his personal servant, Crippled Monkey—a boy raised by the clan three years ago. They set out with only three Ghoststones.”
??As these words fell, Chen Quan’s face went pale. He leapt to his feet, unable to et his father’s gaze, his voice trembling. “Father, according to clan rules, sending Chen Fan to the Wasteland for training was in accordance with ancestral custom. Everything was done by the book...”
??He could not finish.
??A sharp rap on the table cut him short.
??All these days, his father had never ntioned the matter. He had assud his father either did not know, or did not care. But his father knew everything—even the servant’s na, a detail Chen Quan himself had barely rembered.
??Who would bother to rember the na of a servant?
??At the head of the table sat a middle-aged man, his face deeply lined, eyes shadowed by fatigue, lips pressed into a thin line as he tapped the table and leaned back in his chair. Weariness marked his features, but his posture remained straight, out of habit.
??His hair had turned completely white.
??His face was marked by the scars of ti—one look, and the oppressive weight of his presence was unmistakable.
??Like an old, battle-scarred lion.
??“The Rainy Season ca early. Today is the third day.”
??“Of all the Waystations in the Wasteland that failed to evacuate in ti, only two survived. One belongs to the Qiuhe Wang Clan—Waystation No. 16.”
??“The other—”
??“Is the Jiangbei Chen Clan’s Waystation No. 37.”
??“The very one where Chen Fan is stationed.”
??He tossed a Ghostskin Map onto the table, leaned back, and rubbed his temples, his voice hoarse and weary: “Elders, if you have sothing to say, speak now.”
??“Quan’er.”
??“You are the future heir of the Chen Clan. I want you to think this through carefully. Later, I’ll be asking for your opinion in particular.”
??“This...”
??“How is that possible?”
??The mont the Clan Head finished speaking, the elders exchanged incredulous glances. In truth, they hadn’t even known Chen Fan had been sent to the Wasteland, but seeing Chen Quan’s reaction, they imdiately understood.
??It was nothing unusual.
??Within the clan, such matters were all too common.
??What wasn’t common—
??Was how Waystation No. 37, where Chen Fan was stationed, had managed to survive three days into the Rainy Season.
Reviews
All reviews (0)