The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 425 (Patreon)

Chapter 425: A Big Haul, Nine-Turn Soul-Congealing, Withered Vine

An ancient hall floated in the void.

Stars wheeled on all sides.

It felt as if one were standing within a vast universe.

On the plaza before the hall, a huge teleportation array towered in place.

From different directions around the hall, cultivators ripped through the air to land; most arrived with chaotic auras and blood-stained robes: some clutched a severed arm, faces pale; some had blood at the lips, barely holding on; some had to be propped up by companions just to stay standing. The air was tinged with a faint reek of blood and the stifled rasp of labored breathing.

Twelve sky-piercing stone pillars ringed the plaza, their shafts carved full of abstruse restrictive sigils that faintly exuded a hair-raising pressure. Above the hall doors, a bronze plaque hung high with three forceful characters—“Taixu Hall”—the brushwork keen as blades, as if it contained supreme Dao.

Most striking of all was a blood-colored stele floating at the plaza’s center. In gold lacquer it proclaimed an iron law—

“Fighting is forbidden. Violators will be slain!”

The strokes were knife-sharp, the killing intent biting.

Clearly, anyone daring act here would be smitten in an instant.

Cultivators eyed one another warily, yet none dared make a reckless move. They could only heal in silence or whisper softly while waiting for their chance to enter Taixu Hall. A strange silence hung over the plaza, broken only by the distant low hum of the stars in the void.

…

Inside the hall.

Beneath a catalpa tree in the northwest.

Wu Liangba and his two fellow disciples sat cross-legged.

Wu Liangba’s gaze fell on Yu Qingru, his expression ugly. “Junior Sister Kui, my Exorcising Pearl ended up in that woman’s hands. That Fu Changsheng won’t have…”

If Fu Changsheng came to harm, the plan they’d made would be ruined.

The junior sister draped in a corpse-shroud hesitated. “Fu Changsheng led the Fu clan from nothing to a seventh-rank house. He likely has one or two life-saving cards. If I’m not mistaken, that pearl was something he deliberately gave Yu Qingru.”

Wu Liangba’s face turned darker.

He’d given Yu Qingru that pearl not so Fu Changsheng could play the hero and offer charity with another’s gift.

If that bastard Fu Changsheng failed to arrive alive, he wouldn’t hesitate—he’d make Yu Qingru pay with one corpse for two lives.

Naked hostility.

How could Yu Qingru fail to sense it?

But all her thoughts were on getting Yao Yao out safely. If the girl met with disaster, how would she have the face to see her husband and the matriarch?

Hum!

The light-curtain outside the hall rippled.

Third Elder Cao’s figure flashed into being.

Yu Qingru hurried up. “Fellow Daoist Cao, did you see Yao Yao and the others along the way—”

Third Elder Cao shook his head, guilty.

At the key moment, he had run the fastest.

But as he vanished over the western cliff, he’d seen Fu Changli and the patriarch had not left. Facing three quasi–fourth-rank resentful spirits by now, they would likely already…

Third Elder Cao silently went to a corner and sat. After him, three more Cao elders, including Fifth Elder Cao, arrived in succession. As expected, Third Elder Cao had not seen the patriarch; he sighed inwardly.

Fifth Elder Cao glared at the third. “Who knew your escape speed was so impressive, Third Brother.”

It was a clear jab.

Third Elder Cao had a guilty conscience. Unhappy as he was, he didn’t argue.

In his view, if even the first floor of Taixu Hall was this perilous, then the Cao clan would have to unite as one to go any deeper. Infighting now was like an old immortal hanging himself—courting death.

Fifth Elder Cao, closest to the patriarch, couldn’t sit still. He paced at the entrance again and again. After half a cup of tea, just as the hall was about to close, a streak of azure light split the air.

The light withdrew.

Fu Changsheng, Fu Changli, Yao Yao, and the Cao patriarch appeared.

“Yao Yao!”

Seeing Yao Yao arrive safe, the boulder in Yu Qingru’s heart finally fell.

Beside her, Fu Changsheng quipped, “Qingru, do you only have eyes for Yao Yao?”

Yu Qingru shot him a playful glare.

Elsewhere, Fifth Elder Cao rushed up and looked the patriarch over head to toe. Seeing no injuries, he exhaled in relief. “Patriarch, you’re fine—that’s what matters!”

“I lived thanks to Patriarch Fu’s timely aid,” the Cao patriarch said, pointedly glancing at Third Elder Cao.

Back then Third Elder Cao had wanted to sacrifice Fu Changli. Hearing the patriarch had been saved by Fu Changsheng instead, his face flushed and paled by turns, though he still felt his decision at the time had been the wisest.

Under the catalpa, Wu Liangba finally relaxed when he saw Fu Changsheng.

Fu Changsheng swept his gaze over the hall and found half the number from before had vanished. Who knew how many had secured Transmission Tokens. Casting his sense out, he did not detect the three Blood Fiend Sect cultivators who had fled. “Seems they used a Thousand Faces Technique–like secret art.”

If so, they were in the dark while he was in the light.

At the same time, the Cao patriarch edged closer, ingratiating. “Fellow Daoist Fu, do you have spare Transmission Tokens? I won’t take them for free. I’ll offer something that will satisfy you in exchange.”

As he spoke, he handed over the late Eighth Elder Cao’s storage pouch.

Per their agreement, half the harvest from Elders Six, Seven, and Eight of the Cao clan belonged to the Fu clan, with oaths sworn—no concealment or sleight of hand allowed.

Fu Changsheng took the pouch, skimmed it, and found mostly third-rank spirit herbs, nothing special. He took twenty-five percent—since half would go to the Imperial Court—and returned the pouch.

He pondered. “Patriarch Cao, do you have Donghua Yin Wood?”

“Donghua Yin Wood?” The patriarch gave an embarrassed smile. “Fellow Daoist Fu, you must be joking. I’ve never even heard of such a thing.”

Still, Fu Changsheng’s willingness to bargain meant he was open to a deal. Gritting his teeth, the patriarch prepared to offer his greatest gain of this trip. Just as he was about to speak, Third Elder Cao tugged his sleeve. “Patriarch, no! That Four-Turn Green Lotus is nearly a millennium old. If we put it up for auction, it would fetch a fortune.”

It had taken six of them nine lives to get it.

The Cao patriarch, however, pretended not to hear.

If a Transmission Token could be obtained, he believed greater opportunities lay ahead. He quickly transmitted a few words to Fu Changsheng.

Fu Changsheng’s eyes lit. “Patriarch Cao, how long until your Four-Turn Green Lotus matures?”

With it, his Three-Turn Treasure Lotus Lamp could be promoted to a fourth-rank artifact. With the Seven-Colored Glazed Beast assisting, his cultivation could push to False Core, barely enough to wield a fourth-rank artifact.

Seeing hope, the patriarch didn’t hide it. “A hundred years.”

A hundred years?

If Yongwei catalyzed it, and with the Seven-Colored Glazed Beast’s dung to boost growth, the time might shorten somewhat. But to use it quickly, he still needed Life Source Water—one drop would ripen a Four-Turn Green Lotus.

Either way, he wanted it. “Patriarch Cao, how many Tokens do you lack?”

“Three!” the patriarch blurted.

Upon teleporting in, he’d been beset by two quasi–fourth-rank resentful spirits and had burned three talisman-treasure chances to kill them. They had five people, so they lacked three Tokens.

He watched Fu Changsheng, anxious—uncertain whether the other would agree.

But to his surprise, Fu Changsheng said readily, “Deal.”

While they hurried earlier, Fu Changli had told him: if not for the patriarch’s insistence, she might not have held on until he arrived. For that sentiment—and for a nine-hundred-year Four-Turn Green Lotus—three Tokens were worth it.

He flicked his sleeve.

Light flared, and three Transmission Tokens floated openly to the patriarch.

At once, many cultivators stood up, swarming toward Fu Changsheng. “Fellow Daoist, do you have more Tokens? Name your price—sell me one!”

“Friend, I’ll take your Tokens—all of them. You name the price!”

“Hey, Old Seventh Huang, I spoke first! Ever heard of first come, first served?”

…

The once-quiet hall turned clamorous, like a marketplace.

Seeing this, the Cao patriarch, afraid others might offer better terms, hurried to stuff the jade case with the Four-Turn Green Lotus into Fu Changsheng’s hands. With three Tokens secured, Fifth Elder Cao was overjoyed. He shot a look at Third Elder Cao, then pointed at Fu Changsheng drowning in petitioners. “Third Brother, you see? If the patriarch hadn’t spoken up in time, those Tokens wouldn’t have come our way.”

The patriarch chuckled and shook his head. “Not my credit. Patriarch Fu is magnanimous.”

Third Elder Cao’s mouth twitched, but he held his tongue.

Of the five Cao cultivators, only he and the patriarch were the strongest; two Tokens in the patriarch’s hand were enough for them to enter the true Taixu Hall. A nine-hundred-year Four-Turn Green Lotus was rare; Fifth Elder and the others might not reap something of equal value next.

Besides, who knew what the next level held?

Ideally, the other three would keep their current spoils and leave Taixu Hall alive. That way, even if he and the patriarch met mishap on the second floor, their journey would not be in vain.

But the patriarch would hardly want to hear that.

Third Elder Cao sighed softly.

On the other side, seeing the crowd converging, Fu Changsheng’s eyes flashed and a faint smile curled at his lips. He raised a hand; four extra Tokens, blue light glimmering, floated above his palm, runes flowing, radiating waves of space.

“Fellow Daoists, since everyone wants these Tokens, I’ll auction them openly. Highest offer wins.”

The hall boiled over.

“I’ll offer three millennium spirit herbs!” a purple-robed cultivator called first, voice hoarse but full of resolve.

“Hmph. Spirit herbs? I’ll trade a quasi–fourth-rank artifact!” A cold man with a sword on his back sneered and flicked his sleeve. A frigid, gleaming flying sword hovered in the air, humming with quality.

“Artifacts are good, but still externals. I have an ancient pill formula—‘Nine-Turn Soul-Congealing.’ It helps ghost cultivators break through the Golden Core bottleneck!” a white-haired elder rumbled.

“You old coot, are you cursing folks to die early? And a formula still needs the main ingredients. I’ll trade three ‘Heavenly Gang Thunder Talismans.’ Each holds a full-strength strike of a False Core cultivator!” a middle-aged man in a thunder-patterned robe shouted, lightning crackling across his talismans.

…

Bids climbed higher and higher.

Fu Changsheng’s gaze flicked like lightning over the treasures thrown up. His long fingers tapped his pouch, his smile faint.

“Slow down, all of you.” He pressed his hand in the air, and the hall quieted. “I’ll take only four items.”

The first was a jade slip of deep green.

The white-haired elder beamed. “Fellow Daoist Fu has discerning eyes! This ‘Nine-Turn Soul-Congealing’ formula is ancient—ghost cultivators have a thirty percent better chance of breaching the Golden Core threshold!”

Fu Changsheng nodded slightly—exactly what he needed.

Qiu Chan was about to assault Golden Core.

The formula came right on time.

“Make way.”

A burly, gray-robed man squeezed forward.

He slapped his pouch.

A streak of glow flashed.

A white box with bestial patterns appeared; it opened to reveal a jet-black beast egg veined in blood-red lines—yet it showed no trace of life.

And yet—

The instant it came out, the hall’s temperature plunged. Frost bloomed across the floor.

“Fellow Daoist Fu, I took this egg from the Ten Thousand Monsters Valley. It’s been sealed who knows how many millennia, and it still shows such phenomena. One Token is more than fair.”

“Do you take us for fools? A dead egg for a Token? I’ve never heard such nonsense,” someone jeered.

“Yeah, get lost and stop wasting our time!”

…

The crowd laughed.

Behind Fu Changsheng, Fu Changli’s eyes lit.

As a beastmaster, she instinctively felt this egg was no ordinary thing.

She sent a quick voice-transmission. “Patriarch, agree.”

It was the first time he’d seen his fourth sister so excited. Keeping his expression calm, he studied the egg.

The gray-robed cultivator grew nervous and hurried to add, “Take this, and if you ever need something in future, just send word. I am Sun Siman of the Sun clan’s third branch in Jingzhou—a fifth-rank house.”

A fifth-rank house?

A Golden Core clan.

Fu Changsheng smiled. “I’ll take the egg.”

He waved his sleeve.

A Token drifted to Sun Siman.

Delighted, Sun cupped his fists. “Rest easy. I will remember this favor for life.”

Sun Siman stepped back.

A hunched elder tottered up and produced a three-foot length of withered vine, its surface patterned like dragon scales. “Young friend, though this wood has lost all vitality, neither water nor fire can harm it, and blades cannot mar it. One Token for it—you won’t lose out.”

Beside him, a young girl blurted, anxious, “Grandfather, didn’t you say this withered wood is—”

The old man glared.

She realized she’d spoken out of turn and fell silent.

Fu Changsheng was about to pass it over, but a sweep of his sense stirred a faint familiarity. “Could this be…”

A remnant of the Primordial Blackvine from the Five Elements Space?

His heart sped up.

On the surface he remained calm and reached out to touch it.

But the Primordial Blackvine in his space gave no reaction. He hesitated. “Add three peak third-rank spirit herbs, and the Token is yours.”

The elder’s eyes lit, and he hurried his granddaughter to bring out the herbs. Smiling broadly, he said, “Young friend, you are blessed. This vine has found the right master.”

Before Fu Changsheng could reconsider, he stuffed the vine into his hands and tugged his granddaughter away. The girl glanced back apologetically, then quickly looked aside.

“What are they playing at?”

All of this took only a few breaths.

The other cultivators with spare Tokens, seeing the commotion, had planned to trade quietly. With Fu Changsheng stirring the pot, they, too, produced their Tokens and began auctioning.

The hall burst into a frenzy.

For a chance to enter the true Taixu Hall, no one hesitated at the price.

The crowd around Fu Changsheng thinned as most secured deals, with only a few latecomers unable to bid.

At that moment, a cool voice sounded in his ear:

“I’ll trade a ‘Taixu Fragment Map.’ It records certain secrets of Taixu Hall—priceless.”

“A Taixu Fragment Map?”

Fu Changsheng’s eyes narrowed. He followed the voice.

A woman in a plain white dress stood quietly in a corner, her face veiled, only a pair of frost-clear eyes visible. She tapped a finger, and a yellowed, broken jade slip rose into the air. Its runes were dim, yet hinted at an ancient, profound aura.

“Is this true?” Fu Changsheng asked.

She nodded slightly. “This map is a secret of my sect. It records methods to break restrictions in the second floor’s ‘Xuanming Palace.’ Without it, entering means certain death. I can swear by my life-soul.”

Fu Changsheng pondered, then smiled. “Deal.”

He flicked his sleeve; the last Token flew to her. She caught it, flicked a jade-white finger, and the fragment turned to light and fell into his palm.

—Boom!

The whole hall shuddered. The massive bronze doors rumbled and began to close. At the same time, myriad array lines on the floor blazed. Runes flowed like serpents, weaving a dazzling curtain of light that sealed the hall off from the outside.

“The hour has come. Those without tokens, withdraw!”

The light rippled like water. Only those holding Tokens glowed faintly in resonance with the formation; their bodies blurred as they were about to be sent to the second floor.

In that lightning-flash instant, a gaunt rogue cultivator’s eyes went cruel. He lunged at a young female cultivator beside him, snarling, “A mere Foundation Establishment thinks she can enter Taixu Hall? Hand over the token!”

His five fingers hooked like claws for the token at her waist—fast as lightning.

The girl went white; caught unready, she could only watch as his hand closed on her lifeline—

—Tss!

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the token, the light-curtain twisted. A blinding gold ray burst from the formation like a heavenly penalty blade, punching through his chest.

“Ah—!”

He screamed; his body broke apart before the naked eye, flesh dissipating like smoke, finally turning to a wisp of black vapor swallowed by the light.

Silence fell.

“Idiot,” Wu Liangba sneered, eyes full of scorn. “He dared challenge Taixu Hall’s rules?”

Faces turned solemn; no one dared another crooked thought. The young woman, still shaken, clenched her token in a death grip, fearful someone else might try.

Fu Changsheng swept the hall. “Fortune is good—but you need a life to take it.”

Before his words finished, the light-curtain solidified. All token-holders’ figures turned to streams of light and vanished.

…

“Changsheng… Changsheng…”

Half-awake, Fu Changsheng heard a familiar voice above him.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a kindly, familiar face.

Though more than a hundred years had passed, he could never forget the one who’d raised him from the cradle—his grandfather. His nose stung. “Grandfather…”

“Good, you’re awake, you’re awake.”

The old man had clearly sat up several nights, guarding him.

Seeing his grandson stir, he couldn’t help but urge softly, “Changsheng, don’t act brave in the future. Cultivation is a matter of steady steps, not instant success. Never force a breakthrough. You’re only fifteen—still young. With your grandfather here, even if I spend these old bones, I’ll see you establish your Foundation.”

Only…

Grandfather had long since passed.

He’d died when the Heavenly Dragon Tribe invaded Falling Phoenix Mountain.

What lay before his eyes was only illusion.

Fu Changsheng remembered clearly that he had entered the Taixu Hall of the Kunlun Secret Realm. He must have fallen into an illusion the moment he was sent to the second floor.

Fixing his will, he opened his eyes again to find himself still lying on the small bed. “What’s going on?”

He froze.

A kindly old steward entered from outside. Seeing Fu Changsheng awake, surprise flashed in his eyes, then joy. “Young Patriarch, you’ve finally awakened. While you were unconscious, the clan head watched over you day and night, and he’s wasted away. The sacrificial ceremony is prepared—if you feel up to it, you can attend.”

Before he could finish, Grandfather stopped him. “No. Changsheng just woke and is weak. Let him rest more.”

He gave Fu Changsheng a few more instructions, then rose to leave with the steward.

“Grandfather!!”

Seeing the steward—Li Guiming—memories surged back. Over a hundred years ago, the clan had been massacred by the Heavenly Dragon Tribe; Li Guiming the traitor had opened the Mountain-Guarding Array. He hadn’t expected to return to the day the clan was wiped out.

Though he knew it was illusion, he would not let Grandfather and the clan die again. “Grandfather, I have something to say.”

Grandfather waved Li Guiming away.

When the man had gone, Fu Changsheng hesitated, then spoke bluntly. “Grandfather, while I was unconscious, I dreamed. In that dream, our Fu clan was slaughtered today by the Heavenly Dragon Tribe. Only Eldest Brother, Third Brother, Fourth Sister, and I survived by chance. The culprit was Li Guiming, who colluded with the Heavenly Dragons inside and out.”

Grandfather’s brows knit, his gaze turning grave. He knew his grandson to be gifted and sober-minded; he did not speak lightly. But the matter touched the clan’s life and death. He had to be cautious.

“Are you certain the dream was true?” he asked quietly, eyes locked on Fu Changsheng’s.

Fu Changsheng drew a deep breath and nodded firmly. “I wouldn’t dare speak nonsense. The scenes are vivid—especially Li Guiming’s betrayal. If you doubt me, send someone to scout the mountain foot in secret. The Heavenly Dragon Tribe must have an ambush there.”

Grandfather was silent a moment, then turned and gave swift orders to a trusted aide at the door. The man sped off.

In the room, Fu Changsheng’s heart pounded. Time was short; if they didn’t act, the tragedy would repeat. He struggled to rise. Though weak, urgency would not let him lie still.

“Rest. Grandfather is here,” the old man said, hurrying to support him.

“There isn’t much time. We must prepare early,” Fu Changsheng insisted.

Grandfather patted his shoulder; resolve flashed in his eyes. “If things are as you say, I will not let the clan fall into peril.”

Moments later, the aide returned, face grave. “Clan Head, there’s movement at the mountain foot—a large force in ambush. Their dress matches the Heavenly Dragon Tribe.”

Grandfather’s face changed; anger burned in his eyes. “So, Li Guiming dares betray us!”

“Pass my order: full clan on guard. Activate the Mountain-Guarding Array. No one leaves the mountain without permission. Secretly seize Li Guiming—don’t startle the snake.”

Orders flew. Tension gripped the Fu compound as the array rose, an invisible shield veiling Falling Phoenix Mountain.

Li Guiming was seized in secret, and on him they found tokens for contacting the Heavenly Dragon Tribe. The evidence was ironclad. Grandfather’s fury boiled; he had him locked away for later judgment.

At the foot of the mountain, the ambushers grew restless with no signal. The tribal chief scowled. “What’s this? Why hasn’t Li Guiming sent word?”

“Chief, could something have gone wrong?” his aide muttered.

“Hmph. Whatever the case, we take Falling Phoenix Mountain today! Pass the order—attack!”

Warriors surged up the slopes like a tide—but the activated Mountain-Guarding Array stopped them cold. Arrows and spells rained from above, catching them off guard.

“It’s a trap!” the chief shouted, ordering a retreat—but too late. Under Grandfather’s command, the Fu clan pressed from high ground, routing the ambush.

When the battle ended, cheers rang across the mountain. On the peak, Grandfather looked after the fleeing foe and exhaled long, then turned to Fu Changsheng with eyes full of relief. “Changsheng, thanks to your warning. Otherwise, our Fu clan would have been doomed.”

Fu Changsheng smiled faintly, heart a tangle of feelings. He knew it was illusion, but if he could keep the calamity from repeating, if he could spend a little longer with Grandfather, then he was content. The illusion was false—this affection was true.

“It’s about time.”

He took one last look at Grandfather.

The obsession eased.

The scene melted away.

When he opened his eyes again, he stood within an ice palace. “So this is the second floor of Taixu Hall?”

He flicked his sleeve.

The ice-palace map he had traded from the mysterious woman unfolded before him. The terrain on the map matched the scene around him.

Cold mist coiled. The walls were solid ice.

Frost covered the floor.

Each step sent knife-edged chill into the bone.

With a thought, scarlet flame burst from his palm, blossoming into a red lotus. Heat surged out, driving back the cold; ice melted, mist billowed.

He had barely gone a few steps when—

A deep growl rolled from ahead.

“Roar—”

A snow-white beast like a giant wolf leapt from behind an ice wall. Its eyes shone blue; chill frost sprayed from its maw, birthing a forest of ice spikes wherever it passed.

Fu Changsheng’s eyes narrowed. The red-lotus flame in his palm flared, shaping into a blade that cleaved down.

Boom!

The fireblade split the frost. The beast howled; flame swallowed it, and it collapsed into a puddle of icy water.

At the same time—

Crack, crack, crack.

The ice wall ahead collapsed to reveal a crystal-clear pool. The water was limpid, chill mist coiling.

At its heart, a Millennium Snow Lotus bloomed quietly. Petals like snow, the lotus heart glowing faintly. “A ripened Millennium Snow Lotus!”

Delight stirred in Fu Changsheng’s heart. He stepped toward it.

Ripples stirred.

A graceful figure rose from the pool. “Oh? You?”

Her black hair fell like a waterfall; skin paler than snow; she wore not a stitch.

It was the mysterious woman who had traded the map outside Taixu Hall.

The pool clearly had special effects, or she would not have been bathing here.

She stood. Beads of water slid down, and under the lotus’s glow she looked all the more like a fairy.

Smiling, eyes like water, she said, “Fellow Daoist Fu, you came quickly. But first come, first served. This lotus isn’t yours.”

Fu Changsheng frowned.

With the lotus almost in reach, how could he give it up?

“Forgive me!”

He flashed forward, red-lotus flame in his palm reaching for the lotus.

Her jade hand swept; the pool surged into flying ice blades.

Boom!

Fire and ice met; steam roiled.

Fu Changsheng snatched the lotus—yet the instant he touched the lotus heart, his brow furrowed. The touch was unlike the one in the Five Elements Space. Thinking back on how smoothly everything had gone since entering the ice palace, he realized—

“An illusion!”

A second-layer illusion.

Startled, he roused his sense and barked, “Break!”

The red-lotus flame erupted.

Boom.

The scene shattered like a mirror.

The woman’s face twisted into a savage ghost. The lotus turned into a wisp of ghostly blue flame.

When Fu Changsheng opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on a Dao platform.

A familiar voice came. “Young friend, you woke rather quickly.”

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