As Li Chengliao was lost in thought, Li Zhouluo cupped his fists and stepped forward to introduce his brothers and sisters. Li Zhoufang and Li Zhouming of the eldest branch were the oldest, but the two brothers were somewhat shy before the gathering and hesitated to speak, leaving it to him, the fourth young master, to open.
Next was Li Zhouken of the second branch. The talent of this generation in the second branch was lacking; though he belonged to the second branch, he had been adopted from the eldest branch and was in fact full brothers with Li Zhoufang. He bowed to the two above.
The rest were all quite young, merely children with hair tied in double buns, showing little distinction as yet. After pleasantries were exchanged one by one, Li Chengliao first turned his gaze to the standout descendants from the sixteen prefectures. There were thirty-odd of them. The criteria for their selection were naturally lower than those for the clan's own children. Looking across them, none seemed foolish, though their cultivation was mostly underwhelming.
"A full seven from the An clan, two from the Chen clan, three from Xitan, ten from the prominent lineages, and ten from humble clans..."
Li Chengliao had a clear count in mind. The prominent clans of Mount Lijing—Chen, Tian, Dou, and Xu—now faced a situation scarcely different from the Li clan's main branch: a scarcity of direct heirs, which naturally kept their numbers low. By contrast, in the prefectures across the western and eastern shores, newly risen families and humble clans were swiftly building up their strength and securing a foothold. Li Chengliao sat upon the isle night after night observing this with vermilion brush in hand; hardly anyone knew it better than he.
"Chen, Dou, Tian, and Xu, at the mouth of the Lijing alleys... The era of intermarriage among the four clans is drawing to an end. With rotating officials appointed across the sixteen prefectures and the gulf between immortals and mortals widening, these prominent clans possess members but lack land. Their rise and fall can happen within a single generation."
He nodded as he listened to the youth below reporting on the customs of Wutu Prefecture, smiling as he affirmed, yet his thoughts drifted elsewhere. This stable, tranquil state of the sixteen prefectures was not Li Qinghong's doing. He was well aware that he had merely inherited an exceptionally stable, easy-to-manage Li clan.
The rotation and promotion of officials across the sixteen prefectures, the centralization of core authority in the prefectural offices, and the supervisory roles of Mount Yuting and Mount Qingdu had all been meticulously designed by Li Yuanping and Li Xijun. They had conceived the notion back when the Li clan held only a corner of the eastern shore. Through the gradual eradication of local forces by Li Xicheng and Li Xijun across the new territories, that framework had finally been cast over the vast lake realm of the sixteen prefectures.
"Only..."
He still remembered the sacrifices the four clans had made alongside the Li clan in the north. The current inability of the prominent lineages to keep pace was closely tied to the deaths of their leaders. Earlier gifts of spiritual items and magical artifacts were one matter, but warmth and closeness were still necessary.
Li Chengliao took time to show care to the representatives of the four clans, granting spiritual cave residences to each of the standout youths from the sixteen prefectures so they could settle down and cultivate. The various cultivators then took their leave.
By the time he finished arranging this series of affairs, more than an hour had passed. Turning his gaze back to his clan's younger generation, he found them all standing quietly to the side, not daring to speak after waiting so long in vain.
Li Chengliao set down his brush and said with a smile, "Zhouluo, bring your brothers forward."
Li Zhouluo respectfully assented. As Li Zhouluo and the others approached the front of the hall, they noticed that Li Chengliao suddenly wore a look of joy. He hurried to his feet, stepping away from the main seat, and said respectfully, "Ancestor Qinghong!"
Earlier, Xi Zikang had stood holding a jade slip, his robes silver and white, cupping his fists to Li Qinghong with a smile. "Fellow Daoist, please take a look. This is the Manifest Clear Heart Art!"
Li Qinghong had let her spiritual sense sweep through it. The technique Xi Zikang offered was just as he had described—nothing remarkable, merely of the seventh rank, titled the *Manifest Clear Heart Art*.
She looked through it carefully and raised her head with a hint of doubt. Xi Zikang naturally understood that the trade was unequal, promptly saying, "Zikang knows this item falls short, but I have another offering to supplement it that should match its value."
He drew a jade box from his sleeve and said softly, "This is an escapement technique of the Mingyang path, of the sixth rank, called Flowing Sun Refracted Light. Combined, they should match the worth of your Ce Lei Bo Yun Method Dao."
Li Qinghong had hesitated. Escapement arts were exceedingly rare in Jiangnan, and the Li clan knew little of the true value of the Ce Lei Bo Yun Method Dao. To the Li family, the *Purple Lightning Secret Origin Method* was merely an uncommon sixth-rank cultivation manual, which could hardly compare to a sixth-rank escapement art.
Even if one considered the darker possibility—that this person sought her technique to find a way to counter her—Li Qinghong had long since switched to cultivating the *Cloud Inquiry Lightning Method*. Though her immortal foundation remained the same, many key meridians and apertures were entirely different.
After weighing it over and over, she chose caution, saying softly, "The *Purple Lightning Secret Origin Method* is my clan's legacy, after all, and touches upon many secrets. If Fellow Daoist does not mind, we can exchange the jade slips first. Once we return from the East Sea, we can exchange the incantations to unseal them..."
She closely observed the youth's expression and found his gaze clear. He answered briskly, "Agreed!"
"Fellow Daoist is most gracious!"
He had accepted Li Qinghong's terms readily, showing the crisp temperament of a North Sea lightning cultivator. Exchanging a few polite parting words, he took to the wind and departed without lingering.
Li Qinghong had watched him disappear into the distance, murmuring softly to herself. The white floral hairpin in her hair had also been acquired in the East Sea; though only of the Qi Refinement rank, it was a rare Xiaolei magical artifact capable of storing a modest amount of lightning—not much, but better than nothing.
Now, everyone turned to look and found a woman standing silently in the hall. She wore a robe of long feathers and silver boots, her dark hair pinned up with a single white flower, cradling a silver-white spear in her arm.
A purple haze drifted in her almond eyes. Simply standing there, without displaying any overt lightning around her person, she inspired an awe that kept Li Zhouluo from daring to meet her gaze, though he understood well who she was.
While she remained standing, none of them dared sit. Accompanying Li Qinghong, Li Chengliao followed her down the steps and out of the hall. Looking at the landscape of the isle, she praised, "The family is well-governed. At the very least, the isle already displays the air of an immortal clan."
Li Chengliao bowed his head in assent. Li Qinghong pondered for a moment before saying, "It is better that I go to Xuanyue to meet her."
"I expect Ximing will soon achieve his breakthrough as well. I shall make a trip to Xuanyue and take the chance to travel to the East Sea to borrow the spirit gauze from Hengzhu, bringing him back first."
No matter how much trouble this required, Li Qinghong would not spare the effort. If needed, she even considered asking Kong Tingyun to accompany her to prevent any mishaps along the way.
"While we are away, exercise greater caution in all matters."
Li Chengliao bowed his head in acknowledgment without major ripples in his composure.
***
Zongquan Island.
When the leak appeared in the northern heavens, the waters of the East Sea receded, expanding Zongquan Island by a hundred li. Its land area surged overnight, exposing numerous spirit ore veins. The island's revenues quickly flourished, showing early signs of affluence.
In the East Sea, with water receding and thunder rising, the weather was perpetually gloomy. It was rare for the thunderclouds overhead to part and let dazzling light spill down, illuminating the halls and pavilions across the island.
Upon a barren hill at the center of the island stood a small courtyard. There were no guards or servants flanking it—only a single monk bent over doing laundry in the courtyard. Halfway through, he looked up at the sky and murmured, "How much time has passed?"
Master Kongheng's face was somewhat pale. Having washed the robes, he wrung out the water, shook them by both edges, and hung them on a rope to dry. Gulls chattered outside the courtyard, waiting for him to light the fire and cook.
Suddenly Kongheng froze, raising his head in contemplation. He saw the clouds and mists in the sky disperse as fierce winds swept up, scorching heat churned, and heavenly light blazed with immense brilliance.
*Rumble!*
"The Young Master has broken through..."
"Two years... so fast!"
Before long, Li Zhouwei emerged from the dwelling. Kongheng stepped forward and greeted, "Greetings, Young Master!"
"How long has it been?" Li Zhouwei asked.
"Replying to the Young Master: one year and eight months," Kongheng replied. "A year ago, Senior Kong Tingyun of Xuanyue Gate came by. Hearing that you were in seclusion, she did not disturb you, but left word with me, hoping that once you emerged, you would send her a letter so she could pay a visit."
Li Zhouwei lowered his brows and answered with a quiet hum, his expression remaining placid.
Having changed his attire, Li Zhouwei sensed something unusual. Riding the wind up into the clouds, he looked toward the outer boundary of the island's formation. Sure enough, the waters beyond thundered violently, the emerald-red sea roaring in a continuous, muffled rumble.
The faint sound of a conch shell echoed from afar, drawing near. The skies dimmed, and as far as the eye could see, fish and shrimp leapt from the water. Green-scaled backs breached the surface, as if countless colossal beasts were turning beneath the depths.
The sea seemed to boil as monsters rose one after another, halting midair. Holding blades, spears, or halberds, they formed two symmetrical rows, all clad in armor and cloaks, glaring with bulbous fish eyes.
The two waited for fifteen minutes. The vegetation on the ground began to wither under the oppressive aura. Yellow vapor drifted up through the air, rustling softly and swelling to the size of carriage canopies. Kongheng squinted through the mist and noticed shadowy figures moving within the clouds, accompanied by the whinnies and neighs of steeds.
Kongheng began to chant his scriptures, watching the surface of the sea with composure. The water before him parted, and a green-scaled behemoth with the body of an ox and the horned head of a flood dragon leapt forth.
Seawater crashed down like twin waterfalls from its flanks. The beast halted at the shore, massive as a hill, its eyes large as cottages. Its bluish-white eyes stared fixedly at Kongheng. Standing before it, the monk was no larger than a single one of its scales.
More than half the island was cast into the shadow of this sea monster. Master Kongheng turned his prayer beads with a touch of unease, gripping his bronze monk's spade until its rings clinked softly.
Dense swarms of shrimp and crabs crawled along the beast's feet, while several water snakes reared up on their tails like men, blowing conch shells in rhythmic piping. The cultivators on the shore stood dwarfed beneath the immense shadow of the beast, struck by speechless dread.
Kongheng finally raised his brows and saw a bronze chain fastened to the sea beast, stretching deep into the ocean depths. From beneath it leapt a green carp.
The carp rode the waves forward, a pair of scaled wings growing beneath its ribs, staring with massive fish eyes. It transformed into human shape, dressed in dark green robes, and burst into hearty laughter: "Master Kongheng! Long time no see!"
The composure on Kongheng's face finally gave way. He gripped his spade tightly, let out a deep sigh of relief, and shook his head. "Fellow Daoist Huiyao! Why muster such an overwhelming display?!"
The carp monster, now clad in robes, carried an imposing air. He waved his hand with a grin. "Do not blame me, Master, do not blame me! This sea-patrolling monster general has received a dragon decree; the pomp must naturally be grand!"
Years ago, when Zhunan Flood Dragon Palace changed masters, Huiyao had specifically invited the Li clan cultivators to help hunt down a rogue monster. In recent years, rumors had circulated that he was faring well under his new master. Kongheng assumed that through their past assistance, Huiyao had risen in status, which explained why his outings now commanded such ceremony.
Kongheng finally relaxed and nodded in assent. The monk had an easygoing temperament; chanting a few verses was enough to put the fright behind him. Had it been any other Foundation Establishment cultivator he knew, being startled like this would surely have earned Huiyao a sharp reprimand.
Kongheng frowned slightly and asked, "What orders have you been tasked to convey?"
Slime dripped from Huiyao's fish-like face as he laughed heartily. "Congratulations!"
Huiyao watched the sky intently. After waiting another moment until the heavenly anomalies faded entirely from sight, he landed before the hall.
The monk took a step forward. Bright light poured through the windows and doorways like a white blade falling before them, illuminating the faces of man and monster in dazzling radiance.
Pushing the door open, Huiyao followed closely behind as the radiant light surged toward the dais at the far end of the hall. He looked up.
A deep golden halberd stood planted head-down in the center of the hall. Its curved side-blades resembled crescent moons, while a brilliant white arc was traced along its core. Powerful, glaring light poured from it, flowing like liquid.
The monster stared blankly. A wave of floral fragrance reached his nostrils. Looking past the long halberd, he finally saw a youth leaning back in the main seat above.
The youth wore soft gold-and-white armor patterned with dark black runes, his sleeves bound tightly. Leaning against the backrest, he lifted his head slightly, revealing a clean, defined jawline. His eyes were somewhat narrow, resting open in quiet composure.
Huiyao felt as though the youth's gaze were blazing like sunlight itself, searing his face with a sharp sting. Unable to bear it, he lowered his head, cupped his hands in the human fashion, and called out loudly: "Huiyao, Sea-Patrolling Monster General of Zhunan Flood Dragon Palace, greets the Young Master! This monster general offers congratulations to your noble clan on behalf of the Dragon Prince!"
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Li Zhouwei arched his sharp, elongated brows, his dark-golden eyes gazing down from afar. A chill ran through Huiyao's entire body, his heart trembling. He mused inwardly: *He must cultivate an ocular technique that cowers others... This must be the Li clan's Young Master... The Dragon Prince said the one who is least like a human would be him, and indeed there is no other here who cultivates Mingyang.*
*Looking upon him, he seems less like a mortal and more like a dragon prince manifested in human form... yet the cunning flickering between his brows surpasses even that...*
Huiyao had met Li Xijun in the past. He felt this youth bore a slight resemblance to him, yet appeared more magnanimous, with longer brows, slightly narrower eyes, and an indescribable aura of command.
Long ago, Huiyao had known nothing of the cunning and malice of humankind; only upon meeting Li Xijun had he been thoroughly enlightened, coming to understand that this extraordinary man was the embodiment of deep cunning. He had never met another like him since—until today.
Huiyao remained bent low, refusing to rise. Flicking his robes, he stepped forward and adopted the formal etiquette dragonkind used when bowing to high dignitaries. With a thud, he dropped to his knees, bowed toward the east, and knocked his forehead against the floor before turning to bow to Li Zhouwei. His voice was exceedingly reverent and cautious, dragging out a long cry as his dark-green robes trailed upon the ground, reciting:
"This humble monster has been graced with a royal dragon decree. Bowing in repeated reverence, I act on behalf of the Crown Prince of the White Dragon Lineage of King Jinchong, Prince Chengbilongzi of the Pure Sea and Clear Pools, and Lord of the Zhunan Palace of the Vermilion Jade Sky Sea, leading the shrimp soldiers and crab generals of Zhunan—"
"—to respectfully invite the Young Master's immortal presence to our Flood Dragon Palace!"
The youth in the seat of honor rose to his feet, his pure white boots tapping against the floor with a few soft echoes. His voice, clear and carrying a hint of a smile, resonated through the small hall:
Chapter 647