The Lian clan's ancestral worship ceremony had caused quite a stir.
Not only had Jiang Wuyong lost face spectacularly, but Lian Que's fierce response had also reflected poorly on the Lian clan itself.
Guests from various regions departed one after another, and rumors began to spread.
But these were no longer matters Jiang Wang needed to consider.
At this moment, in the most luxurious tavern in Nanyao City, Jiang Wang was speaking with Chongxuan Sheng.
"Offending the Fourteenth Prince so severely—won't that truly have any impact on you?" Jiang Wang asked.
He owed Chongxuan Sheng a great favor this time. Chongxuan Sheng's gains and losses were the only thing he cared about.
"There will naturally be an impact, but overall, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks."
Chongxuan Sheng analyzed carefully for him: "The current Emperor has seventeen sons and nine daughters in total. The Eldest Prince was deposed long ago and remains confined in the palace. The Crown Prince is the second son. Besides them, only the Third Princess, the Ninth Prince, and the Eleventh Prince possess considerable strength and qualify for the succession."
"A clan like ours would never involve itself in the battle for succession. The gains wouldn't justify the costs. Whoever inherits the throne, none would dare treat our Chongxuan clan poorly. So for the other princes and princesses, I don't need to give them face at all, and the clan won't say anything. If word spreads, it only proves that the Chongxuan clan is loyal to the Emperor and has no intention of joining the dragon fight."
The fatty looked extremely pleased, squinting his eyes as he smiled: "And for us—you gained considerable benefits from the duel, and our reputation has only risen."
"Do you know what defeating Jiang Wuyong means? It means you're already indisputably among the strongest in the Heaven-Piercing realm. Many will compare you to Wang Yiwu. And you're my retainer—so how strong does that make me? Today, I showed our full hand to crush Jiang Wuyong, precisely to tell those people they should reconsider their allegiances!"
Chongxuan Sheng only mentioned the benefits, not the drawbacks, but Jiang Wang understood perfectly well.
He listened quietly and simply nodded: "As long as you've considered it carefully."
With that, he picked up the long sword resting across his knees and rose to walk out: "We'll leave in a while. Lian Que asked me to visit him—he has something to discuss."
"That unbelievably ugly blacksmith brat?"
Jiang Wang gave him a rather helpless look, meaning: please don't talk about Lian Que that way. Also, aren't you only slightly stronger?
"Go on, go on." Chongxuan Sheng waved his hand dismissively.
As Jiang Wang reached the door, he added awkwardly: "Um, apologize to him for me."
Lian Que had been forced to the point of suicide to prove his innocence—the Lian clan bore primary responsibility, but Chongxuan Sheng's cold sarcasm had played a significant role as well.
Deep down, he truly respected such unyielding people.
Of course, the distinguished future patriarch of the Chongxuan clan (self-appointed) could never personally apologize. Unless there were benefits involved.
…
As one of the ten most outstanding younger generation members of the Lian clan, Lian Que naturally had his own properties in Nanyao City.
Such as this wine shop.
Jars upon jars of strong liquor lined the hall, ladled out bowl by bowl to customers. Only a few sparse private rooms existed on the second floor, used for receiving guests.
These properties, including the wine shop, primarily served the clan's expenses.
But they weren't particularly numerous, because Lian Que had never been very interested in power and wealth.
He had gone to the Heavenly Treasury Secret Realm only to become stronger, and became stronger only to forge better weapons—nothing more.
Originally, after driving away Jiang Wuyong, Jiang Wang had planned to leave directly with Chongxuan Sheng. But he couldn't refuse Lian Que's invitation to stay, and after the Lian clan's leadership had their cooperation with Jiang Wuyong collapse, they also wished to mend relations with the Chongxuan clan. So they remained for a time.
Chongxuan Sheng wouldn't put on an antagonistic stance just because he disliked these people. This trip to Nanyao City had achieved virtually all his objectives—there was no point in being petty.
To achieve great things, one couldn't let personal likes and dislikes dictate decisions. Some ladders you don't climb, and plenty of people would love to pull them away. Those competitors would love nothing more than to see you crash and burn.
After communicating with Chongxuan Sheng, Jiang Wang went to the wine shop.
Entering the private room, he found Lian Que had been waiting for some time.
Outside of forging, he wasn't a particularly attentive person, but he still asked first: "Your hand—is it alright?"
"Just a minor wound." Jiang Wang smiled. His hand was wrapped in several layers of bandages, but it didn't affect his mobility: "When you forge weapons, you must have gotten plenty of such injuries."
"Yes." Lian Que sighed with some emotion, extending his hand for Jiang Wang to see—its surface was covered in dense scars and thick calluses.
Jiang Wang's hands also had calluses, but they were concentrated mainly where he gripped his sword, at the finger joints. They were nothing like Lian Que's hands, which were utterly ravaged with scars.
"I had a friend who, some years ago while forging, failed to control the temperature. The furnace exploded. He was too exhausted to dodge in time, and lost his eyes. Not blinded—blindness could still be treated. Go to East King Valley or somewhere else, spend enough money, and there's always a way. But his eyes were completely gone."
"You were close to him?"
"Yes. He was probably my only friend."
"And how is he now?"
"He couldn't bear the shock and killed himself that same day." Lian Que spoke flatly.
The profession of weapon-forging was indeed not easy. It was arduous, dangerous, and invited envy. The divine weapons forged were often renowned through the hands of their wielders, while the smiths themselves remained largely unknown.
The world knew that the master of the army-slaying generals was Jiang Mengxiong, but how many remembered who had forged that pair of finger-tigers for him?
Forging sanctuaries like the Lian clan fared better—they enjoyed status and respect, and possessed considerable strength. But throughout the world, most were humble, hardworking common craftsmen.
This was one of the reasons why, when Lian Que went to his death, the Lian clan's leadership immediately backed down. Lian Que, who had forged the famous weapon "Everlasting Longing," could no longer be dismissed as an insignificant junior—he had become a crucial factor in maintaining the Lian clan's status as a forging sanctuary.
Even if they hadn't understood before, after this incident, they should have finally realized.
Jiang Wang fell silent for a moment.
Because Lian Que wasn't someone who needed comfort.
Lian Que's calloused hand rested on the table as he spoke: "Actually, I asked you to stay because there's something I need to discuss with you."
"Go ahead," Jiang Wang said.
"This matter starts with Lian Shao. Do you remember Lian Shao?"
That fellow who had mocked and ridiculed Lian Que in front of the sword furnace…
Jiang Wang nodded.
"I told you before—he's actually a pitiable person," Lian Que said slowly. "The reason lies in that fate tablet you returned to me…"
Through Lian Que's account, Jiang Wang learned of the Lian clan's sealed history.
When the Lian clan's former kingdom fell, the entire clan fled as refugees.
Because the Lian clan's forging lineage was already quite renowned at the time, they faced constant pursuit and betrayal along the way.
To preserve the clan, protect the secret forging techniques from leaking, and prevent anyone from defecting to the enemy…
The clan leader at that time decided to forge a fate tablet for every member of the Lian clan, entrusting them to the loyal family elders. Any betrayal meant immediate execution, no mercy.
These elders seldom involved themselves in worldly matters, but they held the power of life and death over the clan members.
This rule did preserve the Lian clan's lineage. At the time, it unified the Lian clan's strength, enabling them to put down roots in the Qi Kingdom. From nothing, they built a prosperous Nanyao City and rose to become one of the five great forging sanctuaries.
But centuries had passed, and what was once an emergency measure had become a foul, decaying clan rule.
Every newborn of the Lian clan had their fate tablet forged the moment they were born. Before they even possessed their own will, their life and death were already in others' hands.
The earliest elders might have all been genuinely loyal to the clan, but times changed. There were always a few unconvincing elders who appeared, and always a few scoundrels who became inflated by such power.
Many people recognized the problems with this rule, but those in positions of vested interest could no longer relinquish the power in their hands.
Looking back from the present, a century ago there had been a brilliantly talented member of the Lian clan. Resenting that his life was controlled by others from birth, he secretly harbored rebellious thoughts. He quietly cultivated for years, conspiring with various factions and setting up an elaborate scheme.
In the end, he triggered various powers to hunt the Lian clan.
If not for the fact that the Emperor of Qi at the time was planning a great war and urgently needed the Lian clan's forging prowess—deploying the military to protect them—that disaster would have annihilated the clan entirely.
Even so, the Lian clan's influence plummeted after the disaster, with barely a hundredth of their properties surviving.
The Lian clan rebuilt after the disaster.
But even after such an experience, those elders still refused to give up their power of life and death.
They had grown accustomed to being above it all. They themselves had come up through the same system, victimized by the rules, until they eventually became part of the rules themselves.
From then on, the Lian clan selected ten of their most outstanding younger members each generation. The clan acknowledged their ability to control their own fate and returned their fate tablets.
Lian Que was one of them.
In flood control, blocking is less effective than channeling. These ten individuals seemed like an honor, but in essence, they were merely an outlet for venting.
Why did Lian Zhuping and Lian Luyue consider a single clan member's personal honor unworthy of mention, not even worth a moment's consideration? Because in their thinking, clan members were fundamentally incapable of defying them.
They had never imagined that Lian Que would stand against them.
This ancient, decaying, foul-smelling rule had persisted in the Lian clan for far too long. So long it seemed innate, so long that few people found it wrong.
And Lian Shao was among those Lian clan members who could not control their own fate tablets.
He was among the majority who could not command their own life or death.
He had once struggled desperately, for those ten名额 of freedom. But everyone struggled just as desperately, and he fell short by a margin. From then on, he lived in a different world from those ten.
Precisely because he had been born without autonomy, no matter how hard he tried he could never obtain it—that was why he was especially furious at Lian Que's act of giving his fate tablet to Jiang Wang in the Heavenly Treasury Secret Realm.
For him, if he could have obtained his own fate tablet, he would never have surrendered it even in death.
His resentment wasn't truly directed at Lian Que.
He raged at his own lack of freedom, and raged even more at Lian Que for not cherishing such freedom!
As the story drew to a close, a jar of wine had been emptied.
Lian Que inverted the jar and shook it—only two drops fell.
He set the jar down and sighed one final time: "Born in the Lian clan, a life controlled by others."