White hot fire screamed across the sky, carrying all of the accumulated damage that Tianjue had stored.

  It struck the Ancestral Tree like a wrathful fist.

  Yuming saw his world turn white.

  He felt the Tree die. Through the connection he had deepened for months, he saw a century of patient growth, a century of witnessed lives, the slow accumulation of roots growing deeper into the earth—it all ended in a single, screaming instant.

  The Tree’s final cry flooded through him. It was a desperate feeling reaching towards the boy, mixed with confusion. It was asking why.

  Yet beneath that confusion was an unspoken relief.

  The resonance surged out from the Tree. Most of it scattered into the night, dissipating throughout the compound.

  But not all of it dissipated. The fragment within Yuming pulled.

  It was still a part of the Tree. And now, as the Tree died, the fragment called to its source—it became a channel for a power that otherwise would have dissipated.

  The final resonance—a burst of metaphysical connection and a flood of qi—hit Yuming’s proto-dantian like a river breaking through a dam. His carefully cultivated microcosmic orbit seized, his Ren Meridian contracted, his Du Meridian spasmed. Every meridian he had painstakingly opened was filled with the pain of a power that wasn’t his.

  It was the Tree’s final gift.

  Too much—it’s too much.

  Yuming clenched.

  The basin in his lower abdomen—the quiet hollow he had formed through numerous cycles of meditation—began to overflow.

  Overflow was the wrong word. It began to transform.

  Pressure built at his core. It wasn’t a gentle pooling of warmth like he was used to, but something more dense. Something with more weight.

  The Tree carried a century of witnessing: generations, struggles, rituals. The weight of those observations landed on him.

  Fortunately, due to his Earth-grade root, he could handle the weight—barely.

  His body fought to contain it. His proto-dantian strained.

  Yuming felt like he was going to shatter.

  But the Tree’s fragment was already within him. It was part of his Self, fused with his identity.

  And there was no rejecting what was already in him.

  The membrane around his proto-dantian, instead of shattering, hardened.

  A boundary within him thickened. It wasn’t from resistance, but from necessity. His body was desperately attempting to maintain coherence. To remind the Sea that he was him and not the Tree.

  The proto-dantian stabilized, and the membrane around it found its shape.

  At the center of the newborn boundary, where the final resonance of the Tree met his own circulation stood ignition.

  Ignition wasn’t caused by a spark, and it didn’t produce fire.

  It was caused by weight.

  The dantian awakened as a point of highest pressure, a speck of stillness where the resonance settled comfortably. His circulation, settled and strained, found a natural home at last.

  And it began to breathe on its own.

  The pain faded away, and the flood became a current. The current became cultivation.

  Yuming opened his eyes. Not even a second had passed.

  He could feel the spirituality around him. The dying pulse of the formation below him, Tianjue’s fire above. His awareness spread throughout the Ancestral Hall.

  Spiritual sense.

  He looked at his hands, feeling the Tree’s echo reverberate throughout his foundation. It was forever part of him, now.

  He looked forward. Where a tree had stood for a century, there was now only fire and ash.

  The price of ignition—the price of Dantian Awakening.

  At last, Liu Yuming was a cultivator!

  Yuming took a deep inhale, feeling an overwhelming sense of power rushing into him.

  But the battle above was still ongoing. As soon as Tianjue used his cauldron shot on the Tree, Qin Yueshan had moved.

  The formation empowered her—Wen Peng and Wen Yuanfeng poured what they had left into her techniques. Streams of water congregated around her, coiling into another serpent.

  Tianjue had expected this. He’d “wasted” his shot on the Tree, a fierce counterattack was inevitable.

  He raised his arms to defend, but the serpent struck him in the chest. He flew backward, tumbling through the air. Flames stuttered around him and blood sprayed from his lips.

  His eyes stayed attached to Qin Yueshan as he stumbled.

  Until he felt it.

  A pulse of spiritual pressure from the ruins of the Ancestral Hall. It was small and unstable, but instantly recognizable.

  Dantian Awakening?

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  Tianjue’s eyes widened.

  The boy was supposed to be injured, slow, and easy to retrieve. But now here he was, standing strong and passively absorbing ambient qi.

  And a hint of a smile had crept onto the boy’s face.

  How? The Tree’s destruction should have broken his connection with the Tree!

  But reality proved otherwise. The boy had used the Tree’s death to ignite his dantian.

  Impossible!

  His breathing grew abnormal as he realized that the boy had wanted him to destroy the Tree from the start.

  And he had fallen for it.

  Qin Yueshan felt it too. She had been pressing her advantage, sending blades to keep Tianjue on the defensive. But the pulse from the Ancestral Hall made her pause.

  Dantian Awakening?

  She looked at the ruins of the Hall and the ashes that had once been a tree.

  Truly a beastly family. Destroying an heirloom to cultivate a junior—it’s not like they don’t have their own resources!

  Her eyes found Yuming. His crimson robes were charred, and blood still covered his body. But he radiated an increasingly powerful aura and his eyes were brimming with life.

  Qin Yueshan gulped.

  Earlier, Liu Yuming was an ant with no agency. Whether she or Liu Tianjue would take him relied solely on the result of their battle.

  But now he could be regarded as something more than an ant. A person? That would be going too far. But with his vastly increased speed he could escape to Liu Tianjue.

  Her nostrils flared. Liu Tianjue had awakened his dantian for this purpose—and she’d done nothing to stop it!

  She started moving toward Tianjue, preparing to make a desperate interception. The qi from the formation pulsed within her.

  But then she saw a strange scene.

  Rather than running toward Tianjue, the boy started running toward her?

  What?

  Qin Yueshan hesitated, her prepared technique wavering.

  Tianjue saw it too. For him, it wasn’t unexpected. But he was still furious.

  “YUMING!”

  He lunged forward, fire gathering in his palms. But Yueshan was already moving.

  Not to him, but to intercept Yuming.

  Qin Yueshan sent out more water tendrils. Tianjue was still recovering from the serpent’s blow earlier and was briefly halted before he evaporated them.

  Yuming ran as fast as his newly ignited dantian would allow.

  He didn’t stop for walls or debris. Earlier, those might have made him change course. But now, how could those mundane things affect him?

  Tianjue broke free, launching toward Yuming with flames trailing behind. Qin Yueshan exerted herself and sent another serpent to intercept. It crashed into Tianjue’s side, forcing him to twist.

  His cauldron grew brighter.

  Yuming kept running. He could see Wen Yuanfeng now, with Earth Qi crackling around his feet. Far across from him was Wen Peng, who had an ashen expression.

  Still, he diligently poured qi into the array formation.

  Yueshan continued to barrage Tianjue as Yuming got closer.

  Tianjue bit his lip and lowered his defenses, allowing himself to take the brunt of the damage.

  His cauldron, which had been brightening slowly, lit up. It turned white as he tumbled backward, coughing blood.

  Tianjue’s gaze didn’t stay on Qin Yueshan—it turned to Wen Lingling.

  The weakest link.

  The cauldron screamed.

  She raised her sword to block, but the force sent her tumbling down into a collapsed pillar.

  “Lingling!” Wen Peng’s cry was raw with anguish.

  His hands moved instinctively, redirecting formation qi toward his granddaughter. A barrier flickered around her. It was weak—but it was enough to keep her stable.

  Qin Yueshan felt the power that fed her techniques fade immediately.

  She still had some support, but not nearly as much as earlier.

  She wasn’t naive—Tianjue was likely stronger than her. But at least he was injured.

  Tianjue pressed his advantage. With Qin Yueshan weakened, he could force her to not focus on Mingchen.

  He transmitted his voice to his fellow clansmen: ‘Mingchen! The boy! Now!’

  Mingchen descended from above, his movement technique carrying him in a smooth arc toward Yuming. Qin Yueshan sent a desperate water blade toward him, but they lacked their previous bite without the formation’s support.

  Yuming’s newly awakened spiritual sense screamed at him.

  I’m not far from Wen Yuanfeng, but Mingchen’s closing in from the left—six or seven seconds at most.

  He pushed harder, blood soaking through his robes. But it wasn’t fast enough.

  Mingchen landed directly in his path. Behind him, Tianjue and Qin Yueshan clashed. To his left, Wen Lingling was down. Wen Peng was focused on keeping her safe.

  Only Wen Yuanfeng could briefly leave the formation to rescue him—but Mingchen had already arrived.

  Through his spiritual sense he could tell that Wen Yuanfeng was moving to capture him. But he wasn’t in a hurry.

  Wen Yuanfeng doesn’t like me or my Liu Family. Is there anything I can say?

  He looked at Mingchen—this old cultivator, surpassed by his juniors, clearly uninterested in capturing him.

  He met the elder’s eyes and spoke as quickly as his body would allow.

  “Elder, do you know why Senior Tianjue wants to capture me, or did they not tell you?”

  Mingchen slowed his pace slightly. His brows furrowed and his ears perked.

  Wen Yuanfeng listened closely as well.

  “Elder, your Xu Branch is in deep trouble. Senior Tianjue wants to see your branch knocked off its perch.”

  Mingchen paused. He was vaguely aware of some matters regarding Liu Chengxu and knew that his branch was potentially facing danger. But why would the boy know? Was he telling the truth?

  If he was—was he truly pivotal for Zhan to suppress them?

  “They wanted to use my karmic weight—and my grandfather’s relationship with your Xu Branch—to smuggle more dirty karma towards your branch!”

  Mingchen considered it. Was that the reason for the sabotage? They had never found the culprit.

  “Why do you think they destroyed the Tree? In order to burn evidence!”

  The words hit Wen Yuanfeng like a physical blow.

  They used our Tree.

  A century of his family’s devotion, of offered prayers. They had used it as a sewer for their internal rot.

  His qi surged.

  Mingchen saw the movement but didn’t fully react. His feet shifted, but without conviction. The boy’s words echoed in his mind: Zhan wants to see your branch knocked off its perch.

  And worst of all, Tianjue—his junior—didn’t consider him qualified to know.

  He glanced toward Tianjue. Was he fighting for the people who were destroying his own family?

  That moment of hesitation was all Yuanfeng needed.

  The cultivator moved with increased speed. Earth Qi erupted beneath his feet, launching him across the courtyard in a single bounce. His hand closed around Yuming's collar before Mingchen could react.

  "Inside," Yuanfeng growled, yanking Yuming backward and dragging him toward the formation’s core.

  Mingchen's strike cut the air where Yuming had been standing. It was a half-hearted strike, too slow. He could have pursued—but was it really worth the effort?

  Behind him, Tianjue’s voice roared. “MINGCHEN! What are you doing! You actually believed him?”

  Mingchen flinched but didn’t move.

  Qin Yueshan finally saw her opening. She disengaged from Tianjue with a final wave of tendrils, forcing him back, and bolted toward the formation’s core.

  Her hand closed around Yuming before Wen Yuanfeng could protest.

  “The boy comes with me to the Sect.” She declared, leaving no room for protest. “He’s a material witness.”

  Wen Yuanfeng’s grip loosened. He looked at the strange boy who had brought both chaos and revelation and stepped back. “Go,” he said quietly. “We have our own wounds to tend.”

  Qin Yueshan pulled Yuming to his feet. Around them, most of the Wen compound lay in ruins. Wen Peng was helping Wen Lingling stand, her sword arm still limp. Servants emerged from hiding, pale with shock.

  Tianjue stood at the formation core’s edge, flames stuttering around him. His robe was torn. “The boy belongs to my Liu Family,” he growled.

  Qin Yueshan ignored him. She turned, pulling Yuming with her. They ascended above the shattered compound, above weeping mortals and dazed cultivators. The formation—its power spent—began to flicker and dim.

  As they neared the outer gate, Yuming saw a small figure standing in the doorway of the family quarters.

  Wen Changyi.

  The boy’s face was covered with dust and his robes were soaked with mud. His small hands clutched the doorway as he stared at the ashes of his home.

  His eyes met Yuming’s. He let go of the doorway and took a step forward.

  Yuming slowly raised his hand and gave the boy a wave, his lips curling slightly into a smile.

  Qin Yueshan pulled Yuming forward. The compound fell away behind them.

  The boy kept his eyes on Yuming until he disappeared over the hills.

  Ahead, the sky was brightening. Pale streaks of gold covered the darkness, the first hint of dawn breaking over the horizon.

  Qin Yueshan held Yuming as they flew toward the rising sun.

  The smile never left his face.