Chapter Twenty-Five: The Family Night Banquet

Cuihua hid outside the door, listening with clenched teeth. When Madam called her, she hurried out to help, but paid no attention whatsoever to Yun Yufeng.

Madam Liu noticed this and smiled gently. "Cui girl, do you know how many years you've been in this household?"

Cuihua lifted her head and thought for a moment. "I only know that it was you, Madam, who took me in. Counting the years, it's been twelve now. But I don't know how old I was then."

Madam Liu sighed. "Poor child, you were only a month old. It was the dead of winter, snow everywhere."

"Madam..." Cuihua's voice was as soft as a mosquito's hum.

"You have the beauty of a blossom and a mind as clever as a jade. You shouldn't be a servant all your life. From now on, take my surname—Liu. Liu Cuinong. Would you like that, Cui girl?"

"Of course I would! I'm so happy I can hardly believe it." Cuihua wiped tears from her eyes, choking with emotion. She had never dared even to dream of gaining an identity so swiftly.

"As long as you’re happy. Perhaps one day, if you become my daughter-in-law, your ancestral tablet might be placed in the Yun family shrine as well."

"Madam, you’re too kind to me."

Madam Liu laughed. "Go on in. Feng’er, the tables and chairs are set, the dishes are being served."

"Yes, Mother." Yun Yufeng hesitated, then said, "I do have a small question. Why is my return being celebrated so happily this time? Shouldn’t I, as a prodigal, be looked down on by all?"

He knew well that his past idleness had brought shame to his mother.

"Feng’er, you should know—the patriarch always has his reasons. If he arranged things so, then it is right. Understand?" Madam Liu paused before speaking.

"Yes, Mother, I understand." Yun Yufeng nodded, though he hadn’t received a real answer.

The three of them found a table and sat down. Yun Yufeng didn’t believe such a reception was fitting for someone with his reputation. It all felt slightly out of place, so he remained calm, quietly chatting with his mother.

The old patriarch stood on the ceremonial platform, holding a large bowl of wine. His voice carried through the hall: "Today, Yun Yufeng, a scion of the Yun family who had been missing for more than a month, has returned. This is cause for celebration. When all hope seemed lost, he found his way back himself."

"The blood of the Yun family is under the ancestors’ protection. This teaches us never to abandon hope, no matter the circumstances. Here, I want to say something to all the younger members: at this year’s annual gathering, I hope everyone will strive with all their might to win glory for the family. Prove your worth. Maintain the belief that none of you are born to be beneath others."

"Even if you do not win, give it your all. Surpass yourselves, show your strength, and restore the Yun family’s former glory."

With that, he drained his bowl and flung it to the ground, where it shattered with a resounding crack.

The rousing words inspired the young men and women present. They followed suit, draining their bowls and smashing them to the floor—a chorus of shattering bowls filled the air.

Yun Yufeng sat quietly, unmoved. He was well past the age of being stirred by such speeches; he had heard their like a thousand times, and the old patriarch’s words no longer touched him.

"Good! All of you are full of vigor. I hope you’ll keep this spirit during the annual gathering. Now, let’s begin the feast—I’m sure you’re all hungry." The old patriarch’s white beard fluttered in the wind.

Having just eaten pastries, Yun Yufeng wasn’t hungry. He picked at a few dishes, chewing slowly. The family had laid out an elaborate, carefully prepared meal with excellent flavors. As he sampled the food, he critiqued it in his mind. Suddenly, he overheard whispered gossip from a neighboring table.

"I heard that brat Yun Yufeng was attacked by a magical beast in the encircling mountains. How did he go missing for over a month and only just return?"

"Even if he’s back, he’s nothing but trouble. Hasn’t he squandered enough already? Only his mother still treasures him."

"That’s right. I bet the maids will be harassed again, the cats and dogs will suffer, and who knows when he’ll next lose the family’s reputation gambling in town. What an embarrassment."

"At least he hasn’t done anything truly evil. Otherwise, it would be better if he never came back."

Yun Yufeng forced a bitter smile. Clearly, he was not welcome in the family. But that was before—there would be no more prodigality from now on.

After dinner, Yun Yufeng escorted his mother back to her room, then returned to his own quarters alone. He lit a candle and surveyed his room. The walls were covered in various ornaments—not worth much, but tokens his father had brought home from his travels, brimming with paternal love.

On the desk lay a stack of books, some on cultivation techniques. Among them was one titled "Anecdotes of the Purple Firmament." Yun Yufeng eagerly opened it and began to read by candlelight.

He read carefully, word by word, and a vast map of the Purple Firmament Continent unfolded in his mind. It turned out that the Encircling Mountain Town belonged to the Purple Firmament Empire, one of four great empires, the others being the Ice and Snow Empire, the Abundant Source Empire, and the True Martial Dynasty. These four empires ruled over seventy percent of the continent, with the remaining lands set apart as independent territories, harsh borderlands, and so on.

At the heart of the four empires lay a place called the Grand Canyon of Death—a barren, inhospitable wasteland a thousand miles across and hundreds of fathoms deep. At its center stood a city: the City of Sin, home to the wicked. Outlaws on the run, those seeking to escape vengeance, all gathered there. It was a place of crime, slaughter, and blood—a world where only the strongest survived. Death was omnipresent, but for some, it was the perfect home.

By the time Yun Yufeng finished reading the record, it was nearly midnight. He rubbed his tired eyes, extinguished the candle, and began the nightly cultivation routine he had never neglected.

After a night’s cultivation, Yun Yufeng felt refreshed. After greeting his mother, he decided to visit the grandfather whom, according to his prodigal memories, he had never seen.

"Feng’er, when you see your grandfather, remember to be respectful. Though you haven’t met him since you were little, he will be glad to see you."

"Yes, Mother, I understand."

"Go on, then." Only after Yun Yufeng had left did Madam Liu sigh softly and murmur, "If only he had matured earlier, things would be so different. He wouldn’t be at the bottom of his generation in cultivation—how worrying!"

With his hands behind his back, Yun Yufeng strolled leisurely towards the Scripture Tower. He hadn’t known which building it was until his mother told him—the small house beside the ancestral shrine was its entrance, and his grandfather was the one who guarded it.

Several young men in ornate robes approached, taking up most of the road. Spotting Yun Yufeng, they began to shout, "Well, isn’t this the miracle survivor, Young Master Yun Yufeng! Out for a stroll on your own today? Not off chatting with that Peach Blossom girl? I hear the Red Joy House has a new singer, Little Xi Yu—her looks and singing are enough to set a man’s heart on fire."

Yun Yufeng recognized them as the very companions who used to egg him on in his idle days, now seeking to mock him again. He had no desire to engage; he would never associate with wastrels like them again.

He nodded slightly in greeting. "Thank you for the news, Brother Ye Shuai. I have business to attend to."

"Hold it! We haven’t had a chance to catch up after all this time," Yun Ye Shuai said with a sly smile, reaching out to grab Yun Yufeng’s wrist with considerable force. Had Yun Yufeng remained the old prodigal, he would have suffered for sure.

But Yun Yufeng’s lips curled in a cold smile. He employed a technique he had never used before, and one of the Yun clan youths behind Yun Ye Shuai suddenly stuck out his foot, tripping the unsuspecting Yun Ye Shuai.

With a thud, Yun Ye Shuai fell face-first, his handsome features pressed against Yun Yufeng’s shoe.

Yun Yufeng quickly jerked his foot away, sending Yun Ye Shuai’s face crashing into the ground once more. "Dear Brother Ye Shuai, if you want to get close to me, there’s no need for such ceremony—especially not licking my shoes like that. How am I supposed to respond to such affection?" he muttered under his breath, "What bad luck—so much saliva. These new shoes will have to be cleaned again."

"You... you... very good!" Yun Ye Shuai managed, blood streaming from his nose, trembling with rage.

Yun Yufeng smiled broadly. "Thank you for your concern, Brother Ye Shuai. I’m quite well. I’m sure you have things to do, so I’ll take my leave." Then, pointing at the other clan youths, he barked, "What are you staring at? Didn’t you see Brother Ye Shuai has a nosebleed? Help him get cleaned up and bandaged, or how will he show his face if he’s disfigured?"

The others hurried to support Yun Ye Shuai, leaving the youth who had tripped him standing awkwardly alone after being scolded.

With a flick of his sleeve, Yun Yufeng continued unhurriedly towards the Scripture Tower, as if nothing had happened.

He arrived at the small, dark house beside the ancestral shrine, explained his purpose to the guard, and handed over the token his mother had given him. He pushed open the weathered stone door and squinted inside—no light penetrated the darkness, which seemed to twist and devour everything that entered.

Despite knowing this was the entrance, Yun Yufeng still felt uneasy.

He gritted his teeth and stepped into the blackness. In an instant, the world spun and he felt his blood being drawn, but soon found himself in a small pavilion. Outside the sole window, there was only darkness; the room’s light came from several great luminous pearls embedded in the ceiling.

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