As he spoke, a servant entered through a side door carrying a letter.

“Sir, a message from the Exterminate Evil Division.”

“Oh? Old Xing sent this? That’s rare.”

He gestured, and the letter flew into his hand. After reading it, his smile widened behind the technique concealing his face.

“He Anping, want to hear some good news about your family?”

He called out to the He Family cultivator below.

He Anping immediately bowed. “Sir flatters me. All families’ successes belong to the dynasty.”

“Hahaha! That silver tongue of yours never fails.”

He flicked his fingers, making the letter float before He Anping.

The cultivator accepted it with both hands. As he read, his eyes widened in shock.

The report described the Songshan Yang Family’s accomplishments. They’d not only completed the imperial decree mission, but gained two secret treasure site inheritances. Most remarkably, they’d killed one of Solitary Moon Mountain’s three fallen direct disciples!

He Anping trembled. This insignificant piece they’d added last-minute to please the dynasty had achieved astonishing results!

“Perfect! Shenglai hit the jackpot this time!”

He thought excitedly.

“Such merits deserve royal rewards,” the seated cultivator said. “Shouldn’t your He Family also show gratitude?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll make proper arrangements when I return home.” He Anping’s heart soared.

By calling this “He Family good news,” the official implied they’d claim primary credit if the Yangs succeeded!

Seizing the cheerful mood, Liao Jian asked respectfully: “Sir, how should we handle the others?”

“Handle them? Why?”

The leader drawled, “They have valid excuses – ‘willing but unable.’ The Zhuhu Dynasty understands hardship. Constant punishments would make us seem petty.”

His words plunged the hall into frozen silence. Those familiar with him knew this calm tone meant impending doom.

“However… recognizing weakness requires correction. I’ll bestow them training opportunities.”

He waved, conjuring a light curtain showing Zhuhu Dynasty’s map. A gesture magnified the Mobei region west of Wangyue.

Endless yellow sand stretched beneath harsh skies. Only sects practicing special cultivation methods endured this resource-scarce wasteland.

“An ideal place,” the leader declared. “No rivals, no dangers – full of potential.”

With these words, Wangyue’s nineteen other factions became discarded pawns.

They were about to relocate their entire family to the Mobei region, likely never to return to the dynasty’s heartlands again.

…

The return journey for the four Yang Family members passed uneventfully.

With three Perfected Gathering Qi cultivators as escorts, those scheming in shadows reconsidered their plans after weighing risks.

Between wealth and life, survival proved more valuable.

Upon reaching the Qiulu-Wangyue border, they met Wangyue’s welcoming party.

Gao Hui, having cultivated the Dynasty’s Secret Method, had reached the seventh level of Gathering Qi.

As local mayor, he’d waited here with two Perfected Gathering Qi dynasty cultivators after receiving news.

“Lingrui!”

Spotting Yang Lingrui from afar, Gao Hui hurried over.

Without speaking, he embraced the young man firmly.

“You’re home safe. You’ve endured much.”

The mayor already knew about Yang Linghu’s death through official channels.

During his wait, Gao Hui had pondered comforting words but found them hollow – actions spoke clearer.

Yang Lingrui’s eyes moistened as he returned the back pat.

“My thanks, Mayor Gao. The wait wasn’t long. I’m managing.”

After formalities, the group proceeded to Sanglu Valley.

Gao Hui delivered Yang Lingqing’s written message: Wu Tong’s child would come in two moons.

To protect her pregnancy, Yang Linghu’s fate remained unspoken.

“Stay three months at Sanglu Valley. Return to Song Mountain after my sister-in-law’s recovery.”

Folding the letter, Yang Lingrui ached for Wu Tong and the fatherless child.

His mother and brother fell to monster tides, his own cultivation path thorny.

Now this – married mere months before widowhood with child.

He couldn’t fathom Wu Tong’s grief.

His sister-in-law’s life held too much bitterness.

At Sanglu Valley’s depths, Yang Lingrui and Old Yu entered the cave abode.

The sixty-year-old elder seemed aged further by grief, shoulders sagging.

“Elder Yu. I’ve brought brother home.”

Within the cavern, Yang Lingrui opened the relic vessel.

Old Yu’s wrinkled hand trembled across Yang Linghu’s severed arm.

“Rest now, child. You’re home.”

Warm trails streaked Yang Lingrui’s cheeks.

His face stayed composed, yet tears flowed freely.

Fists clenched, then slowly uncurled.

Solitary Moon Mountain killed Yang Linghu.

How he yearned to storm their gates, purge their disciples!

But couldn’t.

Weakness bound him – insufficient power, no strong backing.

The Yangs’ plight mirrored countless minor clans in Canglan State.

Driftwood in stormy seas, rising and plunging with each wave.

One misstep meant drowning without trace.

From He Shenglai’s first visit through Su Family clashes at Golden Scales Ceremony to this loss –

Yang Lingrui had swallowed enough helplessness. No more.

He informed Old Yu: “Tomorrow I begin secluded cultivation here to reach late-stage Gathering Qi.”

Knowing of the treasure land Inheritance, the elder nodded. He’d guard the stone door as he once did for Chen Yang.

Two moons later at Song Mountain, Wu Tong bore a son.

Villagers below craned necks, certain they heard faint wails that day.

From reserved characters, Wu Tong chose “Hong.”

Through Thought Transmission, Chen Yang granted “Yuan” – hoping Yang descendants might reach Condensing Essence stage.

Thus Yang Yuanhong was named:

First confirmed third-generation cultivator,

Beacon of the Yang Family’s renewal.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep