Royal Capital Prodigies

"Young Master lost—how is that possible?"

The clansmen of the Royal City Fang Family stood frozen in place, their faces etched with utter disbelief.

That was a Foundation Establishment True Person!

"The Young Master has won!"

In stark contrast to the dejection and daze of the Royal City Fang Family, the Prefecture City Fang Family clansmen erupted in collective cheers, as if releasing all the pent-up emotions they had held back.

From the very start of the battle, they had faced nothing but doubt, sneers, and mockery.

The Young Master (Fang Yuan) they revered and took pride in had been slandered.

Yet they could hardly argue back.

The barrier of cultivation realms was deeply ingrained in everyone's minds—a near-impossible wall to break, common knowledge to all.

In the three to four thousand years since the Great Zhou Dynasty was founded, no historical record had ever documented anyone crossing the Innate Realm to strike down a Foundation Building Realm cultivator.

Fang Yuan had created a myth, made history!

He would surely leave a resplendent mark in the annals of time.

"Heaven blesses our Fang Family! The ancestors watch over us, giving us a Qilin Child!"

Some of the native villagers of Fang Family Village had no firm allegiance, only hoping for the Fang Family's prosperity.

Seeing Fang Yuan, with such extraordinary talent, burst onto the scene, they wept with gratitude and bowed deeply toward the ancestral hall.

"Even facing a strongman from the Royal City, you still shine so brilliantly."

At this moment, Fang Yuan's feelings were complex—both joyful and disheartened.

Joyful because Fang Yuan's astonishing strength had crossed realms to defeat Fang Lian, winning honor for the family.

But the stronger Fang Yuan became, the harder—even hopeless—it would be for him to catch up or surpass.

"I can't just train in the family compound. I need to go out, seek opportunities in the world, and break through to Foundation Building as soon as possible."

Watching his elder brother's defeat, Fang Xuan's mind went blank. Recalling the words he had spoken at the Prefecture Lord's Mansion, they now seemed laughable.

"Brother Zhongwu, quite the skill!"

Fang Runan withdrew his gaze, casting a meaningful glance at Fang Zhongwu, and said flatly.

"You flatter me, you flatter me."

Fang Zhongwu replied with a smile, adding with feigned apology, "The boy doesn't know his own strength and ended up injuring your son."

"But don't worry, Brother Runan—I have the finest pills here. He'll be back to normal in no time."

Fang Runan gave a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and turned to head back to the ancestral hall. The ancestor worship ceremony was not yet over.

"You only won because of your Spiritual Weapon! I haven't lost yet—let's fight again!"

Fang Lian scrambled up from the ground, his face burning with shame, his eyes locked onto Fang Yuan.

Dragging his heavily wounded body, he drew a Spiritual Sword, his expression seething with hatred.

Never in his life had he suffered such humiliation, nor had he ever lost so disgracefully.

He refused to become a stepping stone for Fang Yuan's fame. He was determined to salvage his dignity and take revenge.

"Haven't you lost enough face already?"

Fang Runan's gaze was icy.

His voice rang out like a great bell, exploding in Fang Lian's mind and snapping him back to his senses.

"Seventh Brother, take the Young Master to heal his wounds. Fang Xuan, you go with him."

Knowing his son was no longer fit to continue in the ancestor worship, Fang Runan gave the orders.

"Every single one of them—so disappointing."

In the ancestral hall, Fang Zhongwu offered the first incense, followed by Fang Runan, and then Fang Yuan, who performed the kneeling bow.

Watching Fang Yuan, brimming with confidence and vigor, Fang Runan couldn't help but think of his own children and sighed in regret.

Losing in skill was one thing, but even losing composure—all their usual refinement had been devoured by dogs.

The ancestor worship ceremony concluded.

The dejected Royal City Fang Family planned to set out that afternoon, leaving Fang Family Village overnight.

"After such a long journey, it's rare to return to our ancestral land. Why not stay a couple more days?"

Fang Zhongwu saw them off at the door, warmly trying to persuade them to stay.

Fang Runan ignored him. As he led the group to the village entrance, a commotion suddenly reached his ears.

"This young master wants to see which little thief dares to steal from me."

"If any of you block me again, I'll slaughter your entire village!"

Fang Runan looked at the large crowd gathered at the village entrance and instinctively furrowed his brow.

"Making trouble in Fang Family Village—courting death!"

Fang Zheng read the situation, catching the displeasure on Fang Runan's face. He himself had been stewing in a bellyful of anger with nowhere to vent.

He strode forward, his steps steady, an imposing aura rising unbidden that shook the very ground beneath his feet.

Fang Zheng had secured his position as Grand Elder for a reason—his cultivation was naturally unfathomable.

Many villagers turned their heads, and upon seeing who was coming, immediately cleared a path.

"Good, you know fear!"

The young man who spoke assumed the villagers were clearing the way out of fear of him, only to run headlong into Fang Zheng's blazing fury.

"You?"

Fang Zheng seemed to recognize the man before him, surprise flickering across his face.

"So it's Elder Fang!"

A flash of astonishment passed through the young man's eyes, but he reacted quickly, immediately cupping his fists in salute.

"Young master of the Ye Family, what business brings you here?"

Ye Lingkong didn't answer, instead asking with a smile, "Elder Fang, why are you here?"

Fang Zheng's face twitched. He itched to slap this brat across the face but held himself back.

For a moment, the scene fell into an eerie silence.

Just then, Ye Lingkong's peripheral vision caught sight of Fang Runan still in the village. His expression shifted slightly, and he bowed from a distance.

"This junior Ye Lingkong pays respects to Lord Dingguo!"

The name caused many of the Fang Family elders to glance sideways.

The Ye Family—one of the top noble houses in the royal capital, producing generations of famed generals, a pillar of the Great Zhou Dynasty.

A clan no less illustrious than the Fang Family.

And Ye Lingkong was the most gifted of this generation of the Ye Family, having already reached the Ninth Layer Houtian Realm before the age of thirty.

He had been the most promising prodigy to break the dusty record for Foundation Establishment.

But unfortunately, the Ninth Prince, hidden deep in the palace and keeping a low profile, had shattered that record first.

Still, that didn't deny the fact that Ye Lingkong's talent was indeed formidable.

Before the Ninth Prince emerged, the entire royal capital buzzed with tales of him—dominating the younger generation, the undisputed number one on the surface.

"This junior lost something here and came specifically to retrieve it. I ask the Duke for his indulgence."

Facing Fang Zheng, Ye Lingkong could still let loose a little, but before this figure of high standing, he had to restrain himself, even tread carefully with his words.

"What did you lose?"

"I was training at a cold pool in the mountains behind Qixi County and found a Yinshe Grass, but a Demon Snake was guarding it."

Ye Lingkong spoke quickly. "I used every means to kill the Demon Snake, but someone beat me to it and snatched the Yinshe Grass."

As he finished, Ye Lingkong's face twisted with anger as he swept his gaze across Fang Family Village, searching for the thief.

"Then come and see for yourself who took your thing," Fang Runan said flatly.

Ye Lingkong had the desire but dared not act, repeatedly declining.

For a single Yinshe Grass, risking offending the Fang Family—and not even being able to recover it—wasn't worth it.

"I've long heard that the Duke values loyalty and righteousness, returning regularly to honor his ancestors. This junior won't disturb the resting place of the Fang Family's forebears."

Ye Lingkong cupped his fists. "I beg the Duke's forgiveness for my impertinence."

Connecting it to the Fang Family's traditions and the gathering of so many experts here, how could he not think of the ancestral rites?

Fang Runan didn't bother with Ye Lingkong. He waved his hand, and the eight Demon Tigers at the lead stepped forward, the procession moving on.

Ye Lingkong shook his head, also preparing to leave.

Just then, a voice transmission landed in his ear.

His body paused slightly. He turned back to look at Fang Family Village, his eyes flickering.