Jing Hongchen looked at his granddaughter, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
Just what kind of charm had that brat Wang Chen used on his sweet granddaughter, that even after all this time apart, she still couldn't stop thinking about him?
Jing Hongchen said calmly, "As long as the position of Crown Prince has not yet been decided, you are not allowed to go see that brat from the Wang family."
Meng Hongchen pouted and said coquettishly, "Grandpa~"
Jing Hongchen poured himself a cup of tea, took two sips, and ignored her act of pleading.
"Don't throw a tantrum. But Grandpa can promise you this—once the Crown Prince has been decided, I won't interfere with whatever happens between you and Wang Chen. You're still young. What matters most now is building your foundation through cultivation. Now go, back to training."
When Meng Hongchen heard that her grandfather wouldn't interfere in her relationship with Brother Wang Chen in the future, she beamed with joy—completely unaware of the heavy implication behind his words, 'once the Crown Prince has been decided.'
Following the Emperor's decree, the entire atmosphere of Mingdu had shifted.
However, the three princes continued their rivalry as fiercely as ever. The only difference now was that instead of fighting separately, the Crown Prince and the Third Prince had joined forces to deal with the Second Prince.
Although the Second Prince, Xu Tianyu, was the strongest among them, facing the combined assault of the Crown Prince Xu Tiannan and the Third Prince Xu Tianshi left him struggling to hold his ground.
Fortunately for him, the Crown Prince and Third Prince did not truly trust each other. Each was wary of the other, resulting in a delicate three-way balance of power.
——————————
While the three princes were engaged in their power struggle—
Wang Chen's life remained highly disciplined and structured. Each morning, he inscribed core arrays for soul tools; each afternoon, he practiced skills and honed his Ring Tempering Secret Art.
At night, he focused on cultivating his soul power to strengthen his cultivation. Every day was packed to the brim.
In this way, time flew by, and half a month quickly passed.
In the blink of an eye, the day of the Wang Family's Clan Tournament arrived.
Over those two weeks of training, Wang Chen hadn't broken through to level thirty, but his mastery of the Ring Tempering Secret Art had improved greatly.
When he had first learned to use it, he had needed time to prepare—first activating the energy within his soul rings, then carefully controlling that energy to strengthen himself.
But now, Wang Chen had practiced the secret art to perfection. With just a thought, he could activate it instantly to enhance his own power.
In short, the Ring Tempering Secret Art could now be used in real combat without any flaw—no opponent would be able to interrupt it or exploit a weakness.
The day of the clan tournament dawned bright and clear, sunlight spilling across the sky.
All members of the Wang family who had no pressing duties had returned to the clan grounds, their faces filled with excitement and expectation, eagerly awaiting the chance to see their children achieve glory in the competition.
At the southern end of the Wang estate stood the Martial Arena, where the clan tournament was to be held.
The ground of the arena was paved with hardened steel, polished and worn from countless duels, gleaming with a cold metallic luster.
Around it rose tiered stands capable of seating hundreds, now completely full—occupied by the elders and ladies of the Wang family.
As for the young clan members participating in the competition, they stood gathered in the center of the arena.
This year's tournament was to be fair, open, and transparent.
Before the eyes of the entire clan, they would determine who among the younger generation was the strongest and most talented.
The first-place winner would receive the family's full support—priority access to resources, guidance, and every advantage to help them reach higher realms.
In the middle of the arena, more than a hundred young Wang family disciples stood neatly in four rows. At the head of each row stood a middle-aged man of considerable strength.
Wang Chen stood in the center of the first row, dressed in a black fitted training outfit, his expression calm.
His goal this time was simple—first place!
And his only real opponent—Wang Teng.
As he thought of this, Wang Chen turned his gaze toward a young man about 1.7 meters tall, with refined features and a proud expression.
At that moment, Wang Teng stood with arms crossed and head raised, his chin tilted upward as he looked around at the other young clan members with an air of superiority—occasionally nodding or shaking his head in judgment.
When Wang Teng's scrutinizing gaze landed on Wang Chen, his arrogant expression softened slightly.
He had always regarded Wang Chen highly, because both of them had been born with innate soul power of level nine—both were geniuses.
Wang Teng knew clearly that if not for the fact that he was almost a year older, he might not necessarily be Wang Chen's match.
But the world had no "ifs." Thanks to that extra year of advantage, he was now a Soul Elder, while Wang Chen was still only a Grand Soulmaster.
The gap between two rings and three rings was immense—especially since his third soul ring was a thousand-year ring.
The amplification a thousand-year soul ring gave to attributes and physique far exceeded that of a hundred-year ring.
Wang Teng was full of confidence. If he and Wang Chen were to fight, with his higher soul power, stronger physique, and the great power of his thousand-year soul skill, defeating Wang Chen would be child's play.
Looking at Wang Chen, Wang Teng said with feigned regret,
"Brother Chen, it's a pity you're nearly a year younger than me—otherwise, I might not have been your match."
Though his tone carried a hint of sympathy, his words placed himself firmly on the side of victory—clearly convinced he already had it in the bag.
Wang Chen looked at Wang Teng's proud face and grinned.
He suddenly found himself curious to see what kind of expression that arrogant face would make once Wang Teng lost to him.
Noticing Wang Chen's smile, Wang Teng felt an odd irritation—he suddenly really wanted to hit him.
He snorted coldly.
"Brother Chen, I advise you to surrender later. I know your cultivation is close to reaching Soul Elder.
But as long as you haven't broken through and gained your third ring, you can't possibly be my opponent."
After saying this, Wang Teng turned his head arrogantly, lifting his chin like a peacock flaunting its feathers.
Wang Chen nearly burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight.
"Cousin Wang Teng, don't speak too soon. If you lose, it'll be quite embarrassing."
Wang Teng's ears twitched. He snorted disdainfully.
"Me, lose? I, Wang Teng, am a Soul Elder! You think I could lose to a bunch of Grand Soulmasters? If I do lose, I'll find a block of tofu and bash my head to death!"
Wang Chen had been about to respond, but at that moment, a call for silence echoed across the entire arena.
The family tournament was about to begin. The middle-aged men standing at the front of each row began to announce the rules.
"The family competition will consist of two rounds. The first round is the crafting of soul tools. The second round is a battle using both Martial Spirits and soul tools."