Southern Capital, Qi Residence.
A deathly silence.
In days past, this residence in the south of the city had been a bustling place. Figures from immortal sects and aristocratic clans came to visit so often that they nearly wore through the threshold. Today, however, not a single visitor appeared.
Inside the residence, in the main hall.
An immortal painting hung at the front of the hall. It depicted only a small azure-gold bell, ancient and weathered, with countless baleful forces of autumn frost surging around it. Beneath it was an inscription: [Mengqiu Yize, yang wanes and yin begins].
A precious blackwood chair stood beneath the painting, with an old man seated upon it.
He wore a large robe of Dark Mysterious black patterned with gold. His frame was small and thin, his blood and vitality feeble. Clearly nearing the end of his life, he murmured with vacant eyes, "My elder brother has fallen."
This old man was Qi Chang'en, the current head of the Qi Clan and the younger brother of True Person Huji. His cultivation was only at Foundation Establishment.
Those words sealed Qi Changsheng's fate. The dozen or so direct descendants of the Qi Clan in the hall began to weep, filling the place with grief and misery.
"Our clan should return beyond the Eastern Sea and manage Crane Isle."
A young man stepped out from among them. Barely twenty, he had a cold, stern face and an aura like metal and stone, with a sharpness wholly unlike the sobbing people around him.
His cultivation was at the eighth layer of Qi Refining. Nourished by the fortune that had swept across an entire realm, he already showed signs of a breakthrough.
"Crane Isle? Yanchuan, without a Purple Mansion cultivator, wouldn't going overseas leave us at everyone's mercy?"
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