The air around Lake Tianluo shimmered with morning mist, the faint glow of spiritual firestones reflecting off its smooth surface. The great Ren Family Estate sprawled beyond it — towers of crimson jade, bridges of flame crystal, and courtyards that practically breathed arrogance.
For thousands of years, the Ren Clan had ruled as masters of flame. Their bloodline was said to carry the essence of Primordial Sunfire, and their ancestors had supposedly burned demons, devils, and possibly a few neighbors who looked at them funny.
A quiet creak broke the morning calm. The door to the secluded Mirror Pavilion opened, and out stepped a tall young man in black robes embroidered with golden lotuses. His long hair hung loose, his expression serene — the picture of confidence.
In truth, Ren Xuyan had just spent three years in closed cultivation wrestling with a single qi circulation technique and had only managed to stop it from backfiring on himself last night.
But he looked the part, and that was what mattered.
The servants stationed near the lake immediately noticed him. Their heads turned as one, and whispers began to spread faster than wildfire.
"He's out! The Young Master has emerged from seclusion!"
"I can feel it—his pressure! It's like standing near a volcano!"
"He must have broken through again! He truly lives up to his title as the Heaven-Flame Heir!"
Ren Xuyan paused by the water, staring at his reflection — sharp eyes, steady breath, one faint ember dancing at his fingertip.
In truth, he was barely mid-tier of the Celestial Lord Realm, the lowest rank in the Celestial World.
Then a stray breeze stirred the lake, and the spiritual qi in the area rippled.
Instantly, the servants gasped.
"He moved the lake with his aura!"
"Such control—he didn't even flinch!"
Xuyan blinked. That was the wind, wasn't it?
He considered explaining, but then thought better of it.
A small group of disciples hurried down the marble path. At their head was Ren Jiahui, Xuyan's cousin and self-proclaimed shadow of the Young Master.
"Cousin Xuyan!" Jiahui bowed low, his grin wide enough to split his face. "To think your cultivation has shaken the lake again! Truly, your flame control surpasses all!"
"Mm," Xuyan replied mildly, eyes still on the water. "It's just the wind."
"Your modesty knows no bounds!" Jiahui said reverently.
Ren Xuyan pinched the bridge of his nose. What does this idiot want now?
Still, he smiled politely. "It seems you're doing well, Jiahui."
Jiahui straightened, visibly touched. "Truly nothing escapes your insight, Cousin! I've recently broken through to the high tier of the Celestial Lord Realm—thanks to your guidance from last time."
Ren Xuyan froze for a moment. Guidance? Last time?
Ah. He remembered.
Three years ago, he'd been half-asleep and mumbled something he'd read from a random storybook in the library:
"Look at the clouds, the mountains, the sky, and the land. However grand your vision is—that is how grand your heart can be. We cultivators cultivate, not the body, but the heart!"
Apparently, that had caused enlightenment.
Xuyan stared at him blankly. He actually took that seriously?
The sound of deliberate footsteps cut through their chatter.
A crimson-robed elder descended the steps, his aura deep and steady. His silver hair glinted under the morning light, and his eyes burned with vitality.
Elder Ren Fengyuan, a man who could lecture for three hours straight without blinking.
He stopped several paces away and smiled broadly.
"Xuyan," he said warmly, "your seclusion has shaken even the ancestral flames! Congratulations on your breakthrough!"
"...Breakthrough?" Xuyan asked carefully.
"Yes!" Fengyuan laughed, stroking his beard. "You've concealed your aura again, haven't you? Only someone with true mastery can suppress their fire so completely. Admirable! Admirable indeed!"
The surrounding disciples murmured in awe.
Ren Xuyan's lips twitched. Ah yes. I, too, am amazed by how little qi I have to conceal.
Still, he bowed respectfully. "This junior thanks Elder Fengyuan for his guidance."
The old man nodded approvingly, full of admiration.
As expected of the Young Master, he thought. He humbles himself to protect the pride of others. Truly, his wisdom burns brighter than the sun.
Fengyuan chuckled again, folding his hands behind his back.
"By the way, Xuyan," he said casually, "your cousin Jiahui attended the Nine Heaven's Assembly in your stead. He performed admirably—fifth place among the young geniuses! Lost to that Ice Princess of the Xue Clan—your fiancée."
At that, the nearby servants gasped and smiled knowingly.
"Ah yes, the Young Master and the Ice Princess—Heaven's most perfect pair!"
Ren Xuyan felt his soul leave his body. Fiancée? Oh. Right. That political engagement Father arranged when I was ten…
The elder continued proudly. "Of course, we understand why you no longer attend the Assembly. Fighting children is beneath you. You already humbled them all by your tenth birthday! I still remember that Xue Elder—what was his name again? Xue… Hanfeng! Yes! You beat his granddaughter so badly he nearly fainted! Hahaha!"
Xuyan smiled thinly. I stopped going because my cultivation has stagnated. And how is it my fault she slipped on her own ice.
Fengyuan wiped a tear of laughter. "Truly, you are the greatest talent under the heavens."
Greatest talent? Even the servants can beat me up without breaking a sweat
The elder turned serious again. "Your father wishes to see you, Xuyan. Don't keep the Patriarch waiting."
Ren Xuyan bowed. "Of course."
Fengyuan nodded approvingly. "Good lad. Always calm, always dignified."
As the elder walked away, Xuyan exhaled deeply, looking back at his reflection in the lake.
Calm, dignified, composed.
And absolutely surrounded by delusional people.
"...Maybe I should just stay in seclusion forever," he muttered.
Behind him, a servant whispered, "Did you hear that? The Young Master seeks deeper enlightenment already!"