Two days later!
At Bai Tianheng’s order, all the younger generation disciples were called upon for an announcement.
They don’t know why.
Was it to attack the Li-Zhao Clan?
To prepare for another attack?
Perhaps something else all together.
But this was the first time, Clan Leader has addressed them since the Li-Zhao Clan’s attack.
Bai Tianheng stood atop the highest platform, hands clasped behind his back.
When the crowd had quieted, his voice rang out.
“We have endured a great storm recently. The Li and Zhao Clans came with blood in their hearts. They came to bury our clan.”
His gaze swept across the hundreds of young cultivators before him—some no older than sixteen, others nearing the peak of the Golden Core Realm.
“But look around you. Are we dead?”
“Are we scattered? Broken?”
“No!”
“We still stand!”
A powerful surge of Qi radiated from him as he raised one hand to the sky.
“And now, we rise!”
Cheers erupted—tired but genuine—fueled by the pride of having survived what many thought would be the end.
Bai Tianheng then lowered his hand.
“From this day forward, the Bai Clan will strengthen not only our walls but our foundation.”
He pulled out a jade scroll—one glowing faintly with a pulsing, azure light.
“I hereby decree: the Azure Dragon Breathing Art, our clan’s Earth-Grade Cultivation Technique, shall no longer be limited to the heir or the top genius.”
Gasps spread like ripples through the crowd.
“From today onward, every loyal member of the Bai Clan is eligible to study it.”
Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. Even older disciples glanced at one another in disbelief.
The Azure Dragon Breathing Art!
One of the best cultivation techniques in the Desolate Heaven Empire—once reserved only for the clan heir or those who had made significant contributions.
And now—everyone was being offered access?
“What? For real?”
“With my talent, I thought that I would be stuck in the Golden Core Realm forever but if I cultivate using Azure Dragon Breathing Technique, I will definitely go beyond that.”
The plaza erupted in noise. Cheers, claps, and cries of “Long live the Patriarch!” filled the air.
The mood had shifted.
Fear had been replaced by hope.
Uncertainty had given way to determination.
Many felt that with access to such a powerful cultivation technique, they too could soar.
Bai Tianheng waited for the excitement to fade, then spoke again—this time with a sharper edge.
“This technique has been opened to all of you. But don’t think that means your path will be easy.”
He looked over the gathered juniors, his eyes clear and cold.
“If you want to become strong—then work harder. Put in the effort, or get left behind.”
He gave a short nod.
“That’s all!”
***
The skies above the Bai Clan were no longer dark with war banners and ash.
A quiet peace—tenuous but real—had returned to the estate.
As the final repairs to the defensive formation neared completion and the mourning ceremonies concluded, a new event quietly began stirring within the clan.
Bai Tianheng had summoned the elders, his tone unusually warm.
“Zihan’s seventeenth birthday is approaching,” he said, standing at the heart of the ancestral hall.
“I think this year, we should celebrate it—and make it as big as we can.”
Many in the hall blinked, but no one was surprised.
They had all been informed of Bai Zihan’s recent contributions—especially the Heaven-Grade cultivation technique he had secured for the clan.
Such a contribution warranted celebration, though an official announcement would risk exposing that information to the outside world.
But his birthday was coming—and they could use it.
Not only to honor him, but to signal strength to their enemies.
It wasn’t just a birthday.
It was a declaration.
“Yes! That’s a good idea!”
“Haha… We must announce that our heir, a Soul Formation Realm cultivator, is turning seventeen!”
“That’s a good one. Their greatest genius couldn’t even break through to Soul Formation in their thirties—and ours is only turning seventeen!”
…
Preparations began that very day
.
Clan servants busied themselves weaving white spiritual silk into ceremonial banners, while elders worked to reinforce the spiritual barrier to ensure safety during the festivities.
Even those clan members who would usually feel jealous about favoritism were now excited and happy—mainly because they were finally able to learn the clan’s Azure Dragon Breathing Technique.
So, they didn’t think too much about Bai Zihan having such a grand celebration for his birthday.
Not to mention, after Bai Zihan’s performance in the war, there was no longer any doubt about his qualifications as the heir.
Back in his courtyard, Bai Zihan had just finished his seclusion.
“I still can’t grasp the technique’s essence, even after so many tries.”
He muttered to himself with a frown.
He had tried again and again but continued to fall short.
He didn’t know exactly what he was missing—but he knew it was something fundamental.
(I should ask Luo Qing to tell the chef to prepare a full-course meal for me.)
Just as he was imagining all the food he could eat, the sound of laughter reached his ears.
He turned his head slightly and spotted two servants decorating the stone pavilion with orchids.
“Hah? Are we preparing for a festival?”
He asked lazily.
One of the girls yelped in surprise and quickly bowed, flustered.
“Y-Young Master Bai Zihan! N-no, not a festival—it’s… your birthday.”
Bai Zihan blinked, caught off guard.
“My… birthday?”
He had completely forgotten.
With all the fighting, the scheming, and regaining memories from his past life on Earth, it had felt irrelevant.
Seventeen!
In most clans, seventeen was when a prodigy’s cultivation path began to stabilize.
It marked the phase where childish impulsiveness gave way to focused intent—when the name of a future legend often first began to take root.
That also meant it had been nearly a year since he recovered his memories from Earth.
Since then, he had changed completely—at least in terms of cultivation and strength, even if his personality hadn’t shifted much.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“Tch! I don’t need a birthday.”
The two servants could only smile awkwardly at his grumble.
Just then, Luo Qing came running toward him.
“Young Master, you’re finally out!”
She said, sweat on her brow, hands smudged with dirt—clearly from helping with preparations.
“Yes! And Luo Qing, tell the chef to prepare a full-course meal to satisfy me. Otherwise, well… They can practice cooking again. Without sleep.”
Bai Zihan said with a grin.
Luo Qing nodded.
“Young Master, your father also instructed me to tell you—he wants to see you in his office as soon as you’re out.”
“Huh? Father wants to see me? What does that old man want now?”
Bai Zihan frowned.
Normally, he’d only be called in after making trouble.
He didn’t think he had done anything wrong lately… but he wasn’t sure either.
Well, he’d find out soon enough.