The ancient one dared not utter a sound, for the Qi within his dantian, once dispersed, would diminish his cultivation severely, perhaps even bring about his demise.

He clung to the remnants of a medicinal pill, desperately slowing the inevitable leak of his Qi, yet the effect was meager. Wisps of spiritual energy, like a faint mist, emanated from his very skin.

The youth clad in violet fixed his gaze upon Wang Lin. “I see you are also a cultivator. How unfortunate for you. On this star of Ranyun, to offend the Sun Clan is akin to…”

Before he could complete his pronouncement, Wang Lin waved a hand. The youth’s body seized, his face paling instantly as he collapsed to the ground.

Wang Lin had spared his life, for the boy possessed but a meager amount of spiritual energy, barely transcending the realm of mortals.

With his vast experience, Wang Lin discerned the youth to be either a scion of a mighty cultivator or a figure of high standing amongst the mundane nobility. The old cultivator and the maiden named Qing Yi, were clearly master and disciple.

Yet, regardless of their lineage, Wang Lin held no fear, for on this star of Ranyun, he reigned supreme.

The scene before him caused Wang Ping to draw a sharp breath. He beheld his father with newfound awe, realizing that he was no ordinary cultivator, for a mere glance of his could cripple a man of experience.

Qing Yi, in a state of bewildered hesitation, stepped forward and offered a respectful plea, “Venerable one, our actions were rash…”

Wang Lin, raising his wine flask to his lips, ignored her supplication.

Qing Yi bit her lip, caught between respect and fear. A smile bloomed upon Wang Ping’s face, enhancing his already striking features. He turned to Qing Yi, “Is your name Qing Yi? I am Wang Ping. Are you perchance a cultivator as well?”

Qing Yi blushed at his attention, whispering, “Indeed, though my master says one should not claim the title until reaching the Foundation Establishment stage. Wang Ping… we were in the wrong. But you must depart quickly. My master has already shattered a jade token, and soon reinforcements will arrive.”

Wang Ping chuckled, unconcerned. He engaged Qing Yi in light conversation.

Suddenly, a howling wind swept through the tavern, and three figures strode into the chamber.

“Grandmaster Sun!” Qing Yi exclaimed, bowing her head in reverence.

The foremost of the three elders, his hair as white as snow, possessed eyes that crackled with power. His gaze swept the room, settling first upon the seated cultivator upon the floor, then upon Wang Lin and his son.

He saw in Wang Lin only a common man, devoid of spiritual energy. However, the younger man piqued his interest. His eyes narrowed as he perceived something extraordinary.

“This lad possesses unparalleled talent. Though his vessel is mundane, his spirit is like a boundless realm, brimming with immense power. Such mental fortitude is rare, even amongst cultivators. These two are not as they appear!”

The seated cultivator, sensing the arrival of the elder, opened his eyes. A torrent of Qi escaped his control, and he cried out, “Uncle, he has harmed me! Save me!” He pointed a trembling finger at Wang Lin.

The elder formed a hand seal and unleashed a bolt of energy towards the afflicted man’s brow. As the mark struck, it spread rapidly, weaving a web that temporarily suppressed the escaping Qi.

Turning his grim gaze upon Wang Lin, he demanded, “Dare you assault a member of the Sun Clan with such impunity?”

Wang Lin, without so much as a glance, set down his wine flask. “Ping’er, let us be gone.” He rose and walked towards the exit.

Wang Ping bestowed another gentle smile upon Qing Yi, causing her cheeks to flush crimson. He had taken a liking to the maiden, for she had attempted to dissuade her master’s aggression.

He followed his father.

The elder Sun snorted, stepping forward to bar their path. The two elders behind him did the same.

“Explain yourselves before you leave.”

Wang Lin’s gaze remained placid as he took a seemingly casual step forward. Yet, the step echoed like thunder in the hearts of the three elders, as if he had trod not upon the floor but upon their very souls.

The two younger elders, their cultivation at the mid-stage of Nascent Soul, paled visibly and instinctively retreated.

This was no spell, no arcane art. No trace of mystical power emanated from Wang Lin. Yet, to the three elders, it was something far beyond any sorcery they had ever witnessed.

It was an aura, the aura of a master who had attained a realm of supreme understanding. A person who could perceive the Tao became a world to himself. He could utilize the force of the world itself. How could the three elders, not to mention cultivators who were trying to get to the top, compete against him.

Elder Sun, his cultivation at the peak of Nascent Soul and on the threshold of the Spirit Transformation stage, felt the impact of Wang Lin’s step most acutely. It was as if his very soul had been struck. His face blanched, and he recoiled.

Wang Lin passed him, exiting the tavern, Wang Ping followed close behind, casting one last look at Qing Yi and another tender smile.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade.

“Once, and never again,” Wang Lin’s voice, carried on the wind from beyond the tavern, echoed in the ears of the Sun Clan cultivators, leaving them trembling in awe.

Outside, Wang Ping hesitated, then caught up with his father. “Father, do you know the Sun Clan?”

“I have had dealings with them in the past. I pledged to ensure the safety of their clan for a century.” Wang Lin held no secrets from Wang Ping, save for the true reason he forbade him from walking the road of cultivation.

“That girl, Qing Yi, is pleasant,” Wang Lin said with a knowing smile.

Wang Ping, caught off guard, blushed.

In the northern district of Qishui City, Wang Lin and his son purchased a spacious courtyard home. They settled within, attended by the servants left behind by the previous owner.

Meanwhile, in the Qishui branch of the Sun Clan, Wang Lin’s parting words stirred a tempest.