Chapter Seventeen: A Sensation That Stunned the Crowd

This final test marks the end of an era for a generation. If a participant cannot awaken their Netherforce, cannot train, and fails to reach the first stage of Nether Martial cultivation, then, according to clan rules, they can no longer remain in the Jiang family.

Though harsh, this is the most effective way for the clan to maintain its enduring prosperity, pass down its legacy, and unearth talent. It is the best method to safeguard the future interests of the family and inject fresh blood into its lineage.

Those who lack the aptitude for cultivation and are eliminated during the final test are, to put it kindly, relegated to the family’s periphery, continuing to contribute to its flourishing from the sidelines. Frankly speaking, they are destined never to rise above their station—living out their days in comfort until death.

The testing continued, and with so many participants, it would not be over anytime soon. After generations of careful management, the Jiang clan had flourished, its branches thick and its descendants numerous. It would be a while before the test concluded.

Where there are prodigies, there are also mediocrities—and those deemed irredeemable.

“Next, Jiang Nan—step up!”

“Jiang Nan, not awakened—eliminated!”

...

“Next, Jiang Feng—up for testing!” The presiding elder, after calling his name, cast Jiang Feng a few meaningful glances and let out a subtle sigh. Yet, even such a slight gesture did not escape Jiang Feng’s keen eyes.

“It’s finally my turn.” Jiang Feng exhaled, straightened his robe, rose, and strode steadily toward the testing platform. Though his figure was not imposing, he radiated a different kind of presence.

“Isn’t that Uncle Xian’s son? Didn’t he fail miserably last time?”

“Yes! Wasn’t he the coward? Even during a simple strength test, he suddenly had a nightmare. He truly is a hopeless case, forever unable to cultivate!”

“Hmph! I suspect he’s faking his inability to cultivate, just to stay home and eat his fill. It’s clearly an excuse for his uselessness.”

The platform was surrounded by Jiang family youths, all wearing mocking expressions.

Jiang Feng stepped onto the stage with practiced familiarity. Before him stood the presiding elder, holding a black stone tablet—square, about the size of a palm, engraved with intricate, arcane symbols, and in the center a blank patch shimmered with dark, crystalline light.

Jiang Feng grasped the tablet and infused it with his Netherforce. After a moment, the elder’s eyes widened at the results, pausing before regaining composure in a few breaths.

At this moment, the elder’s face grew grave as he loudly announced, “Jiang Feng…” For some reason, his behavior became quite odd.

He hesitated, as if recalling something, bowed his head to examine the tablet more closely, and fiddled with it a few more times.

“What is he doing? Why so hesitant just to announce a result? Hurry up!”

“Right! Is the elder losing his mind? He must be having a fit right now!”

...

“Careful, or you’ll be reported! The elder might go straight to your parents. Still, the elder is acting very strangely today!”

...

The whispers grew in the crowd, with wild, imaginative speculations about what had gotten into the elder.

“Silence!” The presiding elder seemed to have reached a conclusion. He raised his head and declared, “Jiang Feng—Nether Martial, stage nine!”

The commotion fell utterly silent. Everyone looked up at the elder, as if they hadn’t heard correctly.

Every eye was filled with the same, enormous question: “What just happened?”

Shock! Absolute shock!

All stood frozen, mouths agape, staring blankly at the platform.

A strange, profound silence fell over the scene. It was so quiet, one could almost hear blood coursing and hearts pounding.

“Next, Jiang Qian—step up!” The elder called the next name, but Jiang Qian showed no reaction at all.

“Jiang Qian, are you forfeiting?” The elder’s temper flared at this lack of response, considering whether the boy needed to be taught a lesson.

“Go for it!”

As Jiang Feng passed Jiang Qian, he patted him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his stunned stupor. Since childhood, Jiang Feng had been considered a freak, and Jiang Qian was his only companion—never shunning him, always willing to play together. Without this friend, Jiang Feng might never have reached the ninth stage of Nether Martial today.

This time, Jiang Feng’s advancement to the ninth level overshadowed all present—a monstrous feat!

Yet he was not arrogant or reckless, never forgetting those who had helped him.

If he could lend a hand, he would.

Thus, Jiang Feng activated the fifth pearl in his left arm, drawing upon his Netherforce and channeling it into Jiang Qian’s body.

He then withdrew his hand and returned to his seat. Though he did not look back, he could sense the shift in Jiang Qian’s aura—the test would surely go well.

“It’s coming!” Jiang Qian, too, felt the change within, admiration for Jiang Feng welling in his heart. Awakened from his daze, he rushed forward, shouting.

Moments later, the joyous news rang out: “Jiang Qian—Nether Martial, stage five!”

Jiang Qian had expected his cultivation to be strong after being catalyzed by Netherforce, but never imagined he would leap two stages at once! He could feel a boundless power surging within—a sensation so intoxicating it was nearly addictive.

Yet once again, the onlookers were thrown into shock.

“Wait a minute! Just a few days ago, he was at stage three! How did he leap so high in so short a time?”

“Yeah! Did he get possessed by a ghost?”

“Can you stop talking nonsense?”

...

Speculation buzzed throughout the crowd.

After Jiang Qian completed his test, only a handful remained. Soon, the final test concluded.

The clan head, having announced the start of the test in the morning, had already departed. As the family patriarch, he was beset by countless affairs both great and small, but he always made time for the final test, for the children were the future of the clan. At each concluding test, he would preside over the opening and offer prayers for the family’s prosperity.

Now, the final test was over.

Some rejoiced at the results; others were anxious. In a few days, these children—who grew up within the same courtyard—might be scattered to the four winds, perhaps never to meet again in decades.

Above the clustered courtyards, cooking smoke drifted into the northern wind, twisting into shapes of laughter and sorrow alike.

Perhaps this is the fate of any family’s legacy. The clan is the root of the Jiang people; without this root, the family would be as duckweed on water, drifting without anchor, lacking the soil to thrive—perhaps soon to vanish from the world altogether.

A family always needs someone to guard it.