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Xia Huainan sighed inwardly. He had already seen off many friends; Lin Xingheng was neither the first nor the last. He simply had not expected that conversation just now to become their final farewell.

On careful thought, handing the position of Xishan City's lord to someone else was indeed something Lin Xingheng would do. Though he had been born into an Aristocratic Clan of cultivators, perhaps because he had never received the Lineage's focused nurturing or favor, his sense of belonging toward the Lineage had always been exceedingly faint.

Back then, it was precisely because of this that they had grown close and become friends.

Only... Xia Huainan looked at the somewhat dazed and witless Lin Zhinian. This heaven-blessed prodigy, who had originally been meant to become his niece's husband, would likely fade into the masses after today. A perfectly good genius with a Single Spiritual Root—if Lin Xingheng had truly cultivated him with care, he would never have developed such a temperament. One had to know that in the cultivation world, origins, power, and status were all illusions. Only cultivation could hold everything firmly in one's grasp. He had talent, yet did not devote his mind to cultivation; even the broadest smooth road would turn into a narrow gate.

With Lin Xingheng dead and Xishan City changing hands, Xia Huainan looked at his good elder brother. It was obvious that he was preparing to back out, yet did not want to play the villain, so he kept shooting Xia Huainan meaningful looks, hoping he would step out and uphold justice. Xia Huainan thought, What a resounding calculation. Even the Divine Dragon atop Yonglu Mountain could probably hear it.

No one had expected that this grand wedding would ultimately turn into a funeral. "Nephew Lin, today..."

"Yan Wuchuan, I'm going