The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 393 (Patreon)

Chapter 393: Clan Tourney, Love Rival, Abyssal Weak-Water Mirror

The Golden Light Shield Talisman was a mid-grade, second-tier charm. Even if Fu Qingyun saved up several years of stipends and neither ate nor drank, he likely couldn’t afford it. Such a weighty gift truly exceeded his expectations. Moved yet uneasy, he said, “Steward, this gift is too valuable, I…”

By instinct, Fu Qingyun wanted to refuse.

Fu Qingqing said, “You’re the only disciple our Hundred Herbs Hall is sending out. You’ll be carrying our hall’s face on your back. As steward, I must show a bit of goodwill. A single mid-grade second-tier talisman—at worst I refine an extra furnace and use one mid-grade second-tier pill’s worth to purchase it. You needn’t take it so to heart.”

Even so, Fu Qingyun still bowed deeply.

In his heart, he silently swore:

For today’s grace, one day I will repay it tenfold.

Fu Qingqing said, “The clan tourney is about to begin. I’ll see you there.”

Back in the day, Fu Qingyun’s father and Fu Qingqing had both studied at Moonwatch Lake Academy and even taken missions together. His father’s old crush on Fu Qingqing had been common knowledge among their classmates, but their stations were worlds apart—utterly impossible.

The two of them walked out from the Hundred Herbs Hall.

Inside, when the disciples heard that Fu Qingyun was going to enter the clan tourney, they all froze. If Fu Qingqing hadn’t been present, they would’ve snorted aloud.

As the two rode off on a pill-refined flying skiff, the hall exploded into noisy chatter.

“Has Qingyun’s head been kicked by a mule?”

“Sure, Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment compete in separate brackets, but the ones who show up are all veteran peak Qi Refining cultivators. Even the War Hall has one or two at peak Qi Refining who don’t dare sign up. That Fu Qingyun’s only mid-stage Qi Refining and wants to join the fun—courting death, isn’t he?”

“Hmph, I say the drunkard’s heart is not in the wine!”

Off to the side, Fu Qinggu smoothly chimed in.

His father was Fu Yongshang of the Commerce Hall. From childhood he’d never lacked resources, practically spoon-fed pills all the way up to peak Qi Refining. Originally, his father wanted him to enter the Commerce Hall and inherit the business. But Fu Qinggu had set his sights on Fu Qingqing.

In his eyes, their parents were both second-generation hall masters of the Fu Clan—well-matched in status.

Besides, with a bit of tempering, building his foundation wouldn’t be a problem.

Then he’d have his father propose the match.

Surely the Pill Hall Master wouldn’t refuse.

For this, he had gone against his father’s wishes and specifically registered with the Hundred Herbs Hall, all so he could be close to Fu Qingqing and first lay a foundation of affection.

Day to day, Fu Qingqing’s care for Fu Qingyun was... special.

That rubbed him the wrong way.

Still, given that Fu Qingyun was honest enough and knew his place, he hadn’t thought much of it. But now that this kid wanted to stand out, sign up for the clan tourney, and draw Fu Qingqing’s eye—how could he sit still?

He bit down, slapped his storage pouch, and with a flash of rosy light, a leaf-thin flying skiff appeared. Toes tapping the ground, he alighted lightly onto the skiff and whipped after the two at full speed.

The Hundred Herbs Hall disciples watched the skiff vanish into the distance, envy written all over their faces.

Qi Refining disciples couldn’t ride swords. They had to rely on flying skiffs or immortal cranes, and neither was something low-born Qi Refining disciples could afford; only with elders’ support was there a slim chance.

“Sigh, what’s the use of working yourself to the bone? Better to be born right.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

They sighed and murmured.

…

Elsewhere, Fu Qinggu urged his skiff with all his might and called from afar, “Steward Qingqing, wait for me!”

Up ahead, Fu Qingqing glanced back, surprised to see Fu Qinggu following. She slowed, thinking something had gone wrong at the hall.

“What is it, Qinggu?” she asked, more distant than she was with Fu Qingyun.

Compared to Fu Qingyun, her attitude cooled noticeably. Fu Qinggu’s performance in the Hundred Herbs Hall was mediocre; he had no talent for either alchemy or apothecary work. When he went out gathering herbs, he relied on talismans and tools rather than his own skill.

Fu Qinggu smiled. “Steward Qingqing, I forgot to mention it just now: I want to participate in the clan tourney.”

With that said, he shot Fu Qingyun a provocative glance.

With him taking the field, the Hundred Herbs Hall’s glory wouldn’t fall on Fu Qingyun.

Fu Qingqing frowned. “Qinggu, the clan tourney isn’t a joke. Do you have the Commerce Hall Master’s consent?”

At that, a flicker of guilt crossed Fu Qinggu’s eyes.

If his father learned of this, he’d break his legs before letting him on the stage. But for the sake of face, he stiffened his neck and said, “I’m already an adult. I make my own decisions. My father can’t control me.”

By now, the drumbeat had faded completely.

The rite was about to begin, and Fu Qingqing didn’t waste more words. In her view, Fu Qinggu must have plenty of life-preserving trump cards on him. He wouldn’t place high, but surviving shouldn’t be hard. “If so, then keep up,” she said.

“Yes, Steward Qingqing.”

Others simply addressed her as Steward.

Only Fu Qinggu added the “Qingqing,” and in truth he wanted to drop the “Steward” entirely. But Fu Qingqing’s Foundation Establishment status was what it was.

He put away his skiff with a flourish, leapt lightly onto Fu Qingqing’s pill-refined flying skiff, and shouldered Fu Qingyun out of the middle to stand there himself. Fu Qingyun wasn’t stupid; he clearly felt the hostility the other boy radiated. He moved to the tail of the skiff, keeping his distance. The other was a true scion—someone he couldn’t afford to provoke. He didn’t want to stir up trouble either.

When the three arrived at the arena on the Grand Mound Mountains, hundreds of Fu Clan disciples had already gathered to compete, most escorted by their respective hall masters. Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining lined up separately. The War Hall had the most entrants—nearly half the field.

Fu Qingqing brought the skiff down beside her mother, Fu Yongdan.

“Pill Hall Master,” she greeted.

Before Fu Qingqing could speak, Fu Qinggu stepped forward to salute Fu Yongdan first.

Fu Yongdan had attended his full-month, first-year, and coming-of-age ceremonies. Half an elder to him, she knew his nature well and shook her head with a smile. “If your father finds out you’re fooling around, he’ll thrash you.”

Fu Qinggu hunched his neck, afraid she’d bring up his embarrassing childhood stories. He shut up and stood obediently behind Fu Qingqing.

Fu Yongdan’s gaze fell on Fu Qingyun. She frowned and sent her daughter a voice transmission: “Qingqing, I told you how dangerous this clan tourney is. How did your Hundred Herbs Hall allow a mid-stage Qi Refining disciple to enter?”

This was pure nonsense.

As they spoke, a rainbow streak tore across the sky. When it fell away, Fu Changli appeared, walking on the air. At once, under Gan Muwan’s lead, the crowd clasped hands and bowed. “Greetings, Supreme Elder!”

There were more and more Purple Mansion cultivators in the clan.

To distinguish ranks, Fu Changsheng had decreed a new title—Supreme Elder—complete with specific stipends and benefits.

Fu Changli strode to the arena’s center.

With a sweep of her sleeve, a Supreme Elder’s token floated up. Phoenix runes were carved upon it. As she sent out one seal after another, the entire arena rumbled, and an Azure Cloud Platform slowly rose into view.

The platform stood nine zhang high, ringed by nine massive stone pillars carved with portraits of the Fu Clan’s forebears. Each portrait was so lifelike it seemed to watch the disciples below. At the center sat a great bronze cauldron blazing with fierce fire—a symbol of the clan’s inheritance and honor.

By tradition, each clan tourney began with incense to the ancestors.

With the platform raised, a solemn air settled over all. The arena’s earlier chatter fell instantly still.

Fu Changli walked up to the cauldron, pressed her hands together, and chanted an ancient spell. She flicked her cyan jade dust-whisk; the cauldron’s flames surged skyward, turning into a colossal fire dragon that coiled over the platform.

“Forebears of the Fu Clan above, on this day of our clan tourney, your junior Fu Changli reports to the ancestors. May you shelter our disciples and let them show their strength and win glory for the clan!”

All bowed three times.

Fu Changli nodded to Gan Muwan. As steward of the fief, Gan Muwan wore a splendid purple gown embroidered with exquisite patterns, regal and imposing. Her keen gaze swept the field.

“The rules of today’s clan tourney are as follows:

“Once you enter, life and death follow fate. During the matches you may use any means—spirit tools, talismans, pills, arrays, and so on.

“The venue will be revealed after the start.

“This tourney has a single round. Both Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining will take the top ten. Those who advance—Qi Refining disciples may become disciples of Foundation Establishment elders; Foundation Establishment disciples may apprentice under Purple Mansion Supreme Elders. In addition, you will receive the elder’s promise to grant one wish.”

“Those present—”

“If you wish to withdraw, this is your last chance.”

“In half a stick of incense, if no one leaves, it will be deemed that you voluntarily sign a life-and-death agreement.”

At that, the disciples exchanged glances.

Yet the field remained unusually quiet; all knew what this tourney demanded.

Even so, tension and unease colored many faces. In past clan tourneys, elders acted as guardians. People were injured, but no one died.

But the greater the risk, the greater the fortune behind it.

Half a stick of incense later, no one left the arena.

Seeing this, Gan Muwan called out, “Team leaders of those not competing, please depart the field.”

Fu Qingqing cast Fu Qingyun one more look before following her mother, Fu Yongdan, to the square’s edge—only to find that Fu Yongqi, the War Hall Master at ninth-layer Foundation Establishment, had not left. He clearly intended to compete as well.

“Huh?”

Fu Qingqing’s gaze fell on the wine-brewing workshop’s group.

There, the only member of the Chang-generation present—Fu Changli—stood immovable.

“Mother, Elder Changli is competing too?”

Fu Changli was the first elder of the new generation after the current patriarch took the seat—top tier in both seniority and merit.

Who would have thought he’d swallow his pride to enter the clan tourney.

Moreover, among the entrants, she spotted several from the patriarch’s direct line—Fu Yongfu, Fu Yongshou, Fu Yongjing—and a few of the patriarch’s daughters-in-law: He Qingruo, Hai Yun, Madam Yu. Even the reclusive wife of Fu Yongrui, Madam Liu, stood among them.

“This…” Fu Qingqing was taken aback.

Clearly, this was no ordinary clan tourney.

While she stared, Gan Muwan, steward of the fief, stepped into the Gu Hall’s line, and Fairy Tianyin—the already third-rank formation master—also took her place.

“Mother… what… what on earth is going on?”

Fu Qingqing couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Fu Yongdan watched the lines, a trace of envy in her eyes. The arena’s formation screen had already closed; there was no need to hide it now. She sighed. “The reason everyone’s so eager this time is simple: if you place in the top ten, those twenty are very likely to be chosen for the upcoming Ninth-rank clan secret-realm expedition.”

A once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Alas, mother and daughter excelled only at alchemy. In combat and dueling they were a far cry from others.

“Qingqing,” she said, “if you want to go farther, you can’t be like your mother—heart and soul sunk in the furnace. Some opportunities must be seized with your own hands. Starting tomorrow, train at the drill grounds and build real combat experience.”

Her daughter was still young; she had time.

As for herself, she would likely remain with the Pill Hall.

“Yes, Mother.”

Fu Qingqing’s mind flashed with the stubborn light in Fu Qingyun’s eyes.

Perhaps she was the one who should be learning from him.

Within the sealed arena, unseen from outside—

Fu Changli stood at the center of the Azure Cloud Platform. Eyes like torches, she swept the ranks of Fu disciples. With a wave of her sleeve, a cyan light flew out and hovered midair, condensing into a seven-inch square bronze mirror—her fateful treasure, the Abyssal Weak-Water Mirror.

The mirror was ancient and austere. Nine abyssal chi dragons were cast along the rim, each biting the next’s tail, their faces ferocious. In their eyes were set “Azure Nether Ice,” crystalline and cold, glimmering with ghostly light. The face of the mirror was smooth as water; faint ripples flowed within, as if it contained the endless power of Weak Water.

Fu Changli stretched out her hand, and the mirror fell into her palm.

Her fingers brushed the face, and a knife-bone chill poured up through her fingertips, like clutching the soul of a thousand-year frozen pool. Solemn-faced, she murmured an ancient spell and raised the mirror high.

“Abyssal Weak Water—open the illusion!”

With a low cry, the mirror exploded with dazzling cyan radiance. The nine chi dragons seemed to stir to life; cold beams shot from the Azure Nether Ice in their eyes, piercing the heavens. In a breath, a pale cyan dome covered the platform. Within it, water ripples spread, as if all stood in boundless Weak Water.

Below, the disciples felt a formless pressure as though wrapped in Weak Water—breathing grew difficult.

Fu Changli—one of the famed Four of the Dao back in the day—felt a hundred flavors mix on his tongue.

Never had he imagined that his fourth younger sister had grown to such a height. In this moment, he felt the gulf firsthand.

Foundation Establishment to Purple Mansion—truly a world apart.

Fu Changli’s voice rolled through the light.

“The Abyssal Weak-Water Mirror holds two layers of illusion. Foundation Establishment enters the inner layer; Qi Refining enters the outer. Within, truth and falsehood intertwine. Last an incense-stick’s time and you advance to the second trial!”

As her words fell, the cyan light split in two: an inner layer deep as an abyss and an outer layer paler by far. Foundation Establishment cultivators saw a blur and were pulled into the inner illusion; Qi Refining were swept into the outer.

Fu Qingyun felt his body go light, the scene before him turning in a blink. He stood in an endless sea of Weak Water. Ripples spread in all directions, and every droplet weighed like a mountain, crushing the breath from his chest. Never mind an incense-stick—he might not last a cup of tea.

“What do I do?”

Even so, he never once thought of retreat.

His mind raced, eyes and ears searching all around.

Suddenly—

Not far away, a point of starlight flashed into view.

“Go take a look.”

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself forward against the pressure. Weak Water was heavy, but not immovable; each step was simply like bearing a thousand-jin burden.

As he drew closer to the starlight, the pressure eased sharply.

The discovery thrilled him. Nearer still, he saw a “Avoiding Star Pearl” shoot out from the glow. If he got his hands on it, he might endure an incense-stick.

Just then—

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fu Qinggu crush a deep-blue talisman. Weak Water rolled back three zhang around him, forming a safe zone. It was the Commerce Hall’s exclusive “Sea-Splitting Talisman,” worth a fortune—clearly a life-preserver prepared by Fu Qinggu’s father.

“Mid-stage Qi Refining, and you dare to enter?” Fu Qinggu sneered, full of scorn. Standing in his safe bubble, he looked down on Fu Qingyun like a foolish ant.

Fu Qingyun ignored him. The only thing that mattered was the Avoiding Star Pearl.

But Fu Qinggu had come precisely to keep him from standing out; how could he allow it? Curling his lip, he surged toward the pearl. With the talisman’s aid, he moved like a fish through water and almost reached it in an instant.

“Want the Avoiding Star Pearl? Dream on!” He grabbed—almost closing his fingers around it.

In that split second, Fu Qingyun flared the bead-light within his soul-jade wooden prayer beads. Dim radiance burst from him, briefly holding back the crushing Weak Water. He threw himself at the pearl with everything he had.

Bang! Their hands struck the pearl almost together, sending a violent pulse through the Weak Water. Fu Qinggu hadn’t expected Fu Qingyun to explode with such force here. Off guard, he staggered back a few steps.

Fu Qingyun seized the opening and clutched the Avoiding Star Pearl. At once, Weak Water retreated from his body, leaving a little safe zone. He could finally breathe freely; his limbs felt far lighter.

“Hand over the Avoiding Star Pearl,” Fu Qinggu snarled, face dark with anger and frustration. To lose ground to a mid-stage Qi Refining nobody—unthinkable. His Sea-Splitting Talisman was strong, but its duration was short. “Or don’t blame me for ignoring our same-hall ties.”

He flipped his right hand.

A scarlet talisman appeared, etched with intricate sigils and seething with heat—the Blazing Flame Talisman.

Fu Qingyun’s heart tightened.

If he handed over the pearl, he’d fail the first trial. Would his grandmother’s illness be dragged out again? For her sake alone, he had to persist.

So he didn’t even think about it. He turned and bolted.

“Think you can run? Dream on!”

A vicious light flashed in Fu Qinggu’s eyes.

If word got out that he’d lost to a mid-stage Qi Refining nobody, how could he show his face courting Qingqing? He hardened his heart to teach Fu Qingyun a lesson. The Blazing Flame Talisman roared to life, surging into a blazing mass that rushed at Fu Qingyun. The fire baked the Weak Water to steam, leaving a vacuum in its wake.

Nowhere to dodge, Fu Qingyun could only take it head-on. Biting down, he pushed the Avoiding Star Pearl’s power to the limit; Weak Water condensed around him in a curtain to meet the flames.

Boom! Fire slammed into water, detonating a violent shockwave. Fu Qingyun was blown backward, blood beading at the corner of his lips. Even so, he never loosened his grip on the Avoiding Star Pearl.

Just as Fu Qinggu readied a second strike, a cool voice cut through the illusion: “Enough.”

Fu Yongjing appeared within the Weak-Water Illusion, a cyan talisman in his hand shedding gentle light that pushed the Weak Water aside. He looked at Fu Qinggu, tone carrying a warning. “The clan tourney tests strength and wit. It’s not a place for you to slaughter one another.”

Fu Yongjing was the patriarch and matriarch’s legitimate son.

He might be only at Qi Refining, but his status spoke for itself.

How would Fu Qinggu dare act up? His face changed; he hastily put away the talisman and bowed. “Ninth Young Master, I’m from the same hall as Brother Yun. How could I truly harm him? We were only fooling around—no ill intent.”

With that, he cupped his hands and fled.

Fu Yongjing turned to Fu Qingyun, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Fu Qingyun said, steadying himself. “Many thanks for stepping in, Ninth Young Master. I’ll repay today’s favor tenfold.”

Fu Yongjing’s gaze flicked over the prayer-bead bracelet in Fu Qingyun’s hand, but he only nodded and said nothing more.

Outside the formation screen—

Fu Yongdan and her daughter hadn’t left.

As time passed, they saw more and more clan members expelled from the barrier—clearly those who had failed even the first trial. After asking a few questions, Fu Qingqing learned that the first trial wasn’t lethal. If you couldn’t hold out, you’d wake from the illusion and be transported out.

After an incense-stick, over a third were eliminated.

Not seeing Fu Qingyun among them, Fu Qingqing smiled in relief. Her mother, Fu Yongdan, only shook her head. “That disciple of yours is mid-stage Qi Refining. If he had failed the first trial, he might have had a better chance of surviving.”

At that, Fu Qingqing’s face changed.

Within the illusion—

“An incense-stick has passed.”

As Fu Changli’s words fell, the Weak-Water illusion began to collapse, the scenery blurring.

Fu Qingyun blinked; when he opened his eyes again, he was back upon the Azure Cloud Platform.

One after another, the other participants dropped out of the illusion. Some looked light-hearted—clearly they had passed smoothly. Others were pale, having suffered plenty.

Fu Changli stood at center, gaze sweeping the crowd. “The Weak-Water Illusion was only the first gate, a test of adaptability and will. Next comes the true arena.”

As she spoke, the four stone pillars lit again. A great light screen rose, revealing a strange landscape within—a barren battlefield under roiling black clouds, the ground littered with shattered weapons and bones.

“The second gate: the Life-and-Death Battleground!”

Her voice reverberated through the field.

“You will face real enemies here—perhaps demon beasts, perhaps corpse puppets. This time, you must last one full hour.”

“At a critical moment, you may crush the Avoiding Star Pearl you obtained in the Weak-Water Illusion. It will send you out of the battleground. But no one can interfere with anything that happens inside—not even me. From here on, the victor advances and the loser is eliminated, and it is even possible… to die.”

“I’ll give you a quarter hour to decide whether to continue.”

Those who had endured the first illusion were either iron-willed or armed with trump cards. No one chose to leave.

“If so—begin the second trial!”

At her word, an unseen power swept the disciples into the screen.

Fu Qingyun’s vision went black. When he looked again, he stood upon that desolate battlefield. The sky pressed low with clouds; broken steel and bones lay everywhere; the air reeked of blood.

He scanned his surroundings. No other disciples—clearly they’d been scattered randomly. Drawing a deep breath to calm his nerves, he began to scout with care.

A bestial roar rumbled from afar.

Fu Qingyun’s heart jumped. He ducked behind a huge boulder, held his breath, and peered out through a crack.

A massive demon beast padded closer—tiger-shaped, with three eyes, fangs bared, and scales black as pitch. A savage “Three-Eyed Demon Tiger.”

Fu Qingyun’s heart sank. A Foundation Establishment demon beast—meeting it head-on at mid-stage Qi Refining was suicide. He weighed his options. Not far off lay a patch of dense woods—perhaps he could use the terrain to outmaneuver it.

Just as he began to ease toward the trees, the tiger seemed to sense him. It whipped its head around; three eyes locked on his hiding place.

“Not good!”

He flared the light from the prayer beads, a faint veil forming around him to damp his aura. But the tiger’s nose was keen—it still fixed on him, growled low, and lunged.

Fu Qingyun gritted his teeth and sprinted for the woods.

The demon tiger was blindingly fast and closed in a blink. Feeling the bloody wind at his back, he spun and pushed the Vajra Shield to its limit.

Boom!

The demon tiger’s blow slammed onto the shield.

The barrier trembled but did not break. It was, after all, the mid-grade second-tier talisman Fu Qingqing had gifted him—a brush with the nether gate. Without hesitating an instant, Fu Qingyun borrowed the prayer beads’ power and shot into the trees.

Thanks for reading—what a tense turn, right as the tourney truly opens up! If you’re enjoying the ride, I’d be super grateful if you could drop a quick rating or comment on NovelUpdates to help more readers find this series.

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