"Father, what's the point of dwelling on what's already been done?"
Clad in a flowing white robe, Luo Chuan spoke with a faint smile, his voice calm yet resolute.
As the current head of the Luo Family, he bore the weight of countless lives. Every choice he made sent ripples through the clan's fate.
He had rejected the Hu Family's marriage alliance—openly, decisively.
Some might call it reckless. But if he were simply acting as a father, protecting his daughter from a union born of calculation and danger, then he had no regrets.
"Yes, you're right."
Luo Ping gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. "Since it has already happened, there's little use in debating it further."
But after a brief pause, his voice grew heavier.
"Still… Chuan'er, what I want to know is this—do you truly believe what the Hu Family head said? That our Luo Family is teetering on the edge of extinction?"
At that, the smile faded from Luo Chuan's lips. His gaze darkened, a flicker of tension flashing in his deep, thoughtful eyes.
The weight of his father's question hung in the air.
After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh, his voice low and grave. "The situation… is not optimistic."
"Father," Luo Chuan continued, his tone firm, "we're not without options."
"So long as Uncle An truly stands with you, and Uncle Yong doesn't let his thirst for glory outweigh his reason…"
"Our Luo Family still has a chance."
"But—"
He gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.
"Getting them to align with you—really, truly—that's far easier said than done."
He knew his uncles well.
Uncle An, though not fully loyal to his father, was at least steady. He wouldn't recklessly wander into chaos, nor would he idly stand by and watch the family crumble.
But Third Uncle Luo Yong…
Calling him a buffoon would be flattering.
Yes, Uncle Yong commanded the elite house servants. Yes, he stood at Bone Refinement Perfection—the strongest cultivator in the Luo Family, and among the top five in all of Qingshi Town.
If a desperate battle came, Uncle Yong could certainly clash with the town's fiercest warriors, blow for blow.
But he was a man ruled by emotion.
Even if the danger were spelled out plainly, even if he knew the risk of disaster, Luo Yong might still be swayed by a few flattering words from outside forces—acting on impulse, chasing hollow victories, forgetting the family's survival hung in the balance.
"…So, Father," Luo Chuan said at last, his voice solemn and unwavering.
"Our time is running out."
"You must make your decision—soon."
With that, he gave a respectful bow. Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the reception hall, his white robes brushing against the polished floor.
"Is my time really running out?"
Luo Ping watched his son's departing figure in silence, his heart growing heavier by the moment.
That morning, he had met with the family's great elder—Ancestor Changfeng.
The old man's complexion was paler than it had been just days before. The flicker of vitality that had sparked so recently was already dimming. And the scent—faint, yet undeniable—of decay had returned, clinging to him like a shadow.
Luo Ping didn't want to believe it.
But the signs were there. The final burst of strength that had sustained Patriarch Changfeng was waning.
The end was near.
"Perhaps… what Chuan'er said is right."
"The Zhao Family's eyes are already on us—waiting for any sign of weakness."
"The Hu Family, too, circles like a vulture, watching with greedy eyes."
"Neither has moved yet. But the moment Patriarch Changfeng passes…"
"They will strike. One after another."
"And if that happens…"
He gritted his teeth, sorrow mingling with dread.
"If we truly want to preserve the Luo bloodline, then maybe…"
"Maybe retreating into seclusion—fleeing to a desolate mountain and living in obscurity—is the only way."
…
Another day passed in the blink of an eye.
Within the ancestral grounds of the Luo Family in Qingshi Town, in a quiet courtyard shrouded by swaying pines and weather-worn stone, Luo Changfeng ran.
His breath was steady, his movements sharp and fluid as he practiced his body technique—Feng Ying Steps—across a patch of open ground.
The wind screamed through the courtyard, stirred by his movements.
With each pass, his speed increased.
Faster.
Sharper.
More precise.
Ten minutes passed before he finally stopped. His body trembled slightly, Qi-Blood nearly depleted.
He gasped for air, sweat clinging to his brow, and summoned the familiar panel only he could see—his mysterious golden finger.
[Name: Luo Changfeng][Lifespan: 3 days+][Cultivation: Bone Refinement Late Stage+ (85/300)][Qi-Blood: 1330 (-33)] (ps: Safe usable Qi-Blood is 100 points)[Cultivation Technique: Mortal Top-Grade · Fierce Tiger Power (Comprehension: 30%+)][Movement Technique: Mortal Top-Grade · Feng Ying Steps (Comprehension: 1.5%+) (Incomplete)]
He exhaled slowly.
Another day gone. One less day of life.
The Qi-Blood cost for survival—constant, merciless.
Five experience points lost overnight. Normal, he reminded himself, for someone nearing the end.
And his Qi-Blood reserve was a bit higher than usual—he hadn't used any for leveling the day before.
"This dwindling lifespan… it's the biggest threat now," he murmured, clenching his fists.
"If I don't resolve it soon, the Qi-Blood loss will kill me before anything else does."
"But I'm still one bottleneck away from the Organ Refinement Realm."
"It'll take time."
He paused, his gaze sharpening.
"Then I'll focus on raising my cultivation first."
"If I can reach Organ Refinement, I'll gain twenty more years of life."
"And by then, this entire lifespan problem…"
"…will solve itself."
With a grim smile, Luo Changfeng extended his right hand—still tainted with the sin it had carried since transmigrating—and tapped the "+" icon beside his cultivation.
But he didn't pour all his Qi-Blood into it.
Instead, he carefully divided it: 80 points to cultivation, 20 to lifespan.
Only a fool gambled with death during an upgrade.
As the numbers ticked forward, a surge of power pulsed through his veins.
A refined, invisible force spread through his body, strengthening bone and sinew. The sensation was brief, but unmistakable.
He could feel the shift—slight, but steady.
Progress.
"Now…"
"All I have to do is keep moving forward."
"And once I reach the Viscera Refinement Realm…"
His eyes gleamed with quiet determination.
"Then, in this chaotic town of Qingshi…"
"There won't be anyone left who can threaten me—Luo Changfeng!"