The Xiao Clan of the Jia Ma Capital.
As a rising power in the empire, the Xiao estate sat prominently on a bustling boulevard lined with high-end shops and vibrant commerce. Xiao Lin, fresh from a victory that had reshaped the nation's future, turned onto this familiar street, the weight of the war finally lifting from his shoulders.
He had barely reached the massive vermillion gates of the manor when a small, energetic silhouette burst through the entrance.
"Father!"
The small figure launched itself through the air. Xiao Lin's face broke into a genuine, radiant smile as he opened his arms wide, catching the boy and pulling him into a fierce hug.
"Zhan'er! Tell me, while I was away, did you listen to Clan Head Grandfather? Or were you a little troublemaker?" Xiao Lin teased, playfully pinching the nose of the boy in his arms.
This was Xiao Zhan. At six years old, he was the center of Xiao Lin's world. Unlike the original story's Xiao Yan, who began his grueling cultivation at the age of four, Xiao Lin had no desire to force his son into a life of hardship so early.
Xiao Lin was a pragmatist. He knew that Xiao Zhan's natural talent for cultivation wasn't world-shaking. But in Xiao Lin's mind, that didn't matter. My son has me as his mountain now, and he'll have the future Flame Emperor as his pillar later. Why suffer through a bitter childhood? We're all riding Xiao Yan's coattails to the Great Thousand World anyway.
Unless Xiao Zhan asked for it, Xiao Lin refused to pressure him. He believed that forced cultivation only led to a fragile foundation and a resentful heart. Because of this "modern" parenting style, Xiao Zhan had enjoyed six years of pure, unadulterated childhood.
Clan Head Xiao Dongcheng often grumbled about this, accusing Xiao Lin of being far too indulgent. To which Xiao Lin always replied: "If I don't spoil my own son, who will? The neighbors?"
"Of course I listened to Grandfather! But..." Xiao Zhan started to answer, but his expression suddenly crumpled into a look of deep, childish conflict.
Xiao Lin raised an eyebrow. He's only six. I haven't even mentioned the word 'meridians' to him. What could possibly be troubling him?
"Young Master," a nearby clansman interjected, bowing to Xiao Lin. "The young master has been very quiet while you were away. He asked us for news about you at least once a day, and lately, he hasn't even wanted to go out and play."
The moment the clansman spoke, Xiao Zhan's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. To a young boy trying to act tough, being exposed for missing his father was the ultimate embarrassment. He spun around and gave the talkative clansman a "vicious" glare—though, to the adults watching, it was about as threatening as a disgruntled kitten. The clansman just chuckled and looked away.
"Zhan'er... did you miss your father that much?" Xiao Lin felt a pang of guilt.
Since awakening his Suhui, Xiao Lin had been running a race against time. He was either obsessed with creating the Star Manual or buried in deep meditation. Even when he was home, he only spared an hour or two for his son. He realized now that he was missing the most precious years of the boy's life.
Xiao Zhan had lost his mother at birth. Xiao Lin was his father, his mother, and his entire world. For a six-year-old, a few months at the front lines felt like an eternity of abandonment.
The Request
"Father... can you promise me something? Can you stop going away to fight?"
Xiao Zhan's question caught Xiao Lin completely off guard. He looked into his son's pleading eyes and felt his heart melt.
"I promise, Zhan'er," Xiao Lin said softly, nodding with conviction. "I won't go away to war anymore."
It was a promise he intended to keep. He had already decided to resign his commission. At his current level as a Dou Huang, military drills and border skirmishes offered zero benefit to his growth. He had no interest in Moyai's vacant Marshal seat; he wanted to be an Ancestor, not a bureaucrat. His goal was to focus on the Xiao Clan and his own path to the stars.
"Really?" Xiao Zhan's eyes lit up like twin stars.
"I never lie to you. Tomorrow, I'll go to the palace, hand in my resignation, and quit the army for good. No more wars."
"That's great!" Xiao Zhan cheered, but his next sentence surprised Xiao Lin even more. "Then... since you'll be home, can you start teaching me how to cultivate?"
Xiao Lin stopped mid-stride as they entered the inner courtyard. "Cultivate? I thought you didn't care for it. Why the sudden change of heart?"
Xiao Zhan went quiet for a moment, his young face showing a maturity that far exceeded his years. "Grandfather asked me before, and I didn't know what to say. But now I do. Father, you are going to be the Clan Head. As your son, I can't be the one who makes you look bad. I want to be strong. I want to be able to help you next time."
The words hit Xiao Lin like a physical blow. A child without a mother grows up fast. The sweetness of the sentiment was tinged with the bitter memory of his late wife, Wen Lingyun.
"Zhan'er, you don't have to force yourself for my sake. Your father is strong enough for the both of us."
"No, Father. I want this!"
The shift in the boy's address—from the casual 'Daddy' to the more formal 'Father'—signaled a shift in his soul. The lion cub wanted to grow his claws.
Xiao Lin looked at the determination in his son's eyes and nodded slowly. If his son wanted to walk the path of thorns, Xiao Lin would ensure that path was paved with the best resources the continent had to offer.
"Fine. Then from this day forward, I will personally guide your cultivation. Let us see how bright the Xiao name can shine."
With those words, the future Clan Head, Xiao Zhan, officially began his journey.
Half a year flowed by like water.
The fires of war between the Jia Ma and Chu Yun Empires had finally cooled into a tentative, icy peace. While neighboring nations watched from the borders like a pack of hungry wolves, neither Jia Ma nor Chu Yun was foolish enough to continue their death struggle. They understood the "Snipe and Clam" proverb all too well—if they fought to the bitter end, the surrounding empires would be the "Fisherman" who reaped the rewards.
Back in the capital, Xiao Lin had officially shed his general's armor. He settled into a life of quiet duality: refining his own celestial cultivation in secret while personally guiding the first steps of his son, Xiao Zhan.
The Imperial Family, grateful for Xiao Lin's role in exposing the traitorous Marshal, had showered the Xiao Clan with rewards. Mountains of gold coins were accompanied by a treasury of Qi Methods, Dou Techniques, and medicinal pills. While most were only of the Xuan or Yellow Tier and the pills were below Grade 4—items Xiao Lin personally viewed as "common"—they were a godsend for the clan's foundation. The overall strength of the average Xiao disciple surged overnight.
However, the true windfall came from the carcass of the Intel Clan.
With the treason of Marshal Moyai confirmed, the once-mighty Intel family was stripped of its status. With the silent approval of the Emperor, the family was carved up like a sacrificial lamb. The three rising stars—the Xiao, Nalan, and Mu clans—seized the largest portions of the inheritance.
They divided the Intel Clan's legacy: secret techniques, high-grade medicinal stores, and lucrative trade routes throughout the capital. The "scraps" were left to the lesser families, and within months, a clan that had stood for a century vanished into the dust of history.
The Imperial Family watched this with cold indifference. They didn't deign to compete for the scraps of a fallen Dou Wang clan—that would be beneath their dignity. Moreover, they wanted new Dou Wang families to rise.
With the Primer Clan having evolved into a Dou Huang power and the Yun Lan Sect remaining an untouchable, bloated entity, the Emperor needed fresh, loyal "Kings" to balance the scales. As long as these new clans didn't become another uncontrollable monster like the Yun Lan Sect, the Crown was happy to provide the soil for their growth.
In the eyes of the capital's elite, the rise of the Xiao, Nalan, and Mu clans was no longer a possibility—it was a mathematical certainty.
The Nalan and Mu clans were already traditional military powers, but the Xiao Clan was the true dark horse. Backed by the Imperial Family's favor and led by the "Hero of Black Rock Mountain," their momentum was unstoppable.
Even the Yun Lan Sect remained silent. Yun Shan, currently at the peak of Eight-Star Dou Huang, was focused solely on breaking through to the Ninth Star. To a man seeking the pinnacle of the Emperor realm, the squabbles of "tiny" Dou Wang families were beneath his notice. He saw Xiao Lin and the others as nothing more than "talented youths"—hardly worth a pause in his meditation.
Then, on a crisp morning in the seventh year of Xiao Lin's awakening, a thunderous aura erupted from the Xiao estate.
The pressure swept across the capital like a physical wave. Pedestrians on the streets froze in their tracks, looking toward the Xiao manor with eyes full of awe and trepidation. Every major power in the city felt the ripple in the world's Dou Qi.
The message was clear: A new Dou Wang had been born.
"Only a year after the Intel Clan fell, the Xiao Clan has already produced a King?" "Their rise is too fast! I thought it would take another three years!" "The Young Clan Head... he is truly a monster of this generation."
Across the city, orders were frantically issued. Friends sought to deepen their ties with the Xiao family, while enemies began packing their bags to flee the capital, knowing they could no longer contend.
In a medium-sized nation like Jia Ma, a Dou Wang was a pillar of the state. Since Dou Zongs and Dou Huangs could be counted on one hand, a Dou Wang was a supreme combatant who could decide the life and death of thousands.
But as the "New Dou Wang" Xiao Lin accepted the congratulations of his clan, he maintained his internal smirk.
To the world, he had just broken through to One-Star Dou Wang. In reality, his true cultivation had soared to the Six-Star Dou Huang realm.
He had spent much of the last six months focusing on Xiao Zhan's education, yet even with that "distraction," the Star Manual and his Heavenly State Soul had pushed him up two more stars. Had he ignored his son and focused entirely on himself, he likely would have reached the late stages of the Dou Huang realm by now.
But as Xiao Lin looked at the small boy practicing his stances in the courtyard, he didn't feel a shred of regret. To a man who had already secured the "Grandfather of a God" strategy, a few stars of cultivation were nothing compared to the bond with his son.
"One-Star Dou Wang... that should be enough to satisfy the Emperor's expectations and keep the spies happy," Xiao Lin whispered to the wind. "The 'Empowered Ancestor' still has plenty of time to grow."