CHAPTER 194: 194- GOLDEN CORE

Fang Sun stepped forward almost in a daze, his words stumbling over themselves.

"Clan head, what do you—why would you—?" He couldn’t even finish a sentence.

The weight of what he had just heard left him utterly shaken.

Fang Yuan only smiled, calm as ever.

"You and the other elders are the core pillars of the Fang family. And I intend to bring the clan as a whole into an era where it will stand as the strongest family under heaven. Infamy, tyranny, kindness—it doesn’t matter what methods we take. What matters is that, in the near future, when people hear the word Fang, they will either bow... or flee."

The words struck like thunder. Fang Sun froze, speechless.

Fang Yang and Fang Bo, who stood beside him.... were no better, they stared wide-eyed, unable to even breathe steadily.

Then, mid-thought, Fang Yuan suddenly froze. A thought struck him like a spark in dry grass.

Fang Lian.

His expression shifted ever so slightly, and he let out a quiet murmur.

"...Uh oh."

He turned on his heel, his tone brisk again.

"Alright, I only came to verify how my brother was doing. Keep practicing. If your progress is satisfactory, I’ll have you spar against my little disciple next."

"Yes, Clan Head! Okay, Clan Head!" the three elders echoed in unison, their voices loud but still trembling faintly.

Without another word, Fang Yuan strode away, his robes trailing behind him, heading straight for Doctor Mu’s residence.

He had promised the girl he would return by nightfall to check on her progress.

That had been months ago. Now, he returned not with guidance, but with news of her father’s death.

A faint, unfamiliar sensation stirred within him, surprise, at himself. This... reluctance. It was an oddity for a cultivator of his age and power.

He pushed open the door to the small hut, the wood groaning softly.

Inside, Fang Lian sat in the lotus position, her face a mask of serene concentration. The air hummed with gathered Qi.

Then his gaze sharpened.

Seven golden spheres revolved around her in a flawless orbit, each one swift, steady, and precise.

They circled like stars in the heavens—seven golden spheres tracing a flawless orbit, never once colliding, their motion so seamless it defied mere chance.

Fang Yuan’s lips curved in the faintest smile, a quiet murmur slipping from him.

"No way... she’s already grasped the core principles."

To confirm, he flicked a finger, sending a fine, deliberate thread of his qi drifting toward her.

The moment it neared, the seven spheres flared, converging as one and intercepting it in an instant.

He felt a sharp sting rebound against him, like being pricked by a needle.

His brows rose and then he chuckled under his breath, quietly astonished.

He hadn’t even shown her the third form yet, only the first and second stages of the Golden Shell Armor and here she was, already getting the gist of the third technique on her own.

Fang Yuan did not interrupt her meditation. Instead, he stood silently for a long while, watching.

Pride gleamed openly in his eyes, a warmth rare for him.

At last, he pulled out a set of formation flags and placed them carefully around her.

Immediately, the surrounding spiritual qi surged, funneling toward her like a tide.

A Spirit-Gathering Formation.

Satisfied, he cast one final glance at her serene figure. His smile deepened.

But just as he was about to turn away, his sharp instincts pricked.

Something suffenly felt amiss.

His gaze snapped back to her and his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

She was... breaking through.

For a heartbeat, exhilaration surged through him. A third golden core for the Fang family?

The thought flashed like lightning across his mind, and for an instant he felt the thrill of glory.

But the excitement died as quickly as it came.

Her body was trembling, veins glowing faintly under her skin as though fire had been forced into fragile glass tubes.

Her meridians swelled grotesquely, pushing toward collapse. The seven spheres around her spun erratically, no longer the graceful orbits of moments ago, but a chaotic storm.

She was compressing her qi far too quickly.

Driven not by steady cultivation, but by sheer, reckless desperation.

Raw energy lashed out from her body in violent sparks, each ripple carrying the weight of self-destruction.

This wasn’t a breakthrough... it was suicide wrapped in brilliance.

Fang Yuan’s expression hardened, a knife-edge of focus slicing through the moment.

No... she hasn’t prepared anything! She’ll destroy herself before she even takes the step forward!

He extended a single finger.

With the precise control of a Hollow Spirit cultivator, Fang Yuan pushed out a thread of divine sense thinner than a hair and sharper than a blade.

It pierced into the raging chaos of her dantian.

When it came into contact, the effect was instantaneous.

The maelstrom of wild Qi, moments from tearing her apart, froze as if the heavens themselves had issued a command.

What had been a storm threatening to shred her meridians suddenly found direction.

The spiraling currents bent, curved, and locked into a rhythm dictated by his will.

Like a tyrant king setting order to a riot, his divine sense forced equilibrium where there had been none.

The violent Qi shuddered once... twice... and then collapsed inward.

A silent shockwave burst from her core, gentle yet absolute, washing across the hut in a ripple of power.

The fractured sphere in her dantian, once unstable and splintering, drew together under his invisible hand.

Cracks vanished. Rough edges smoothed.

What remained was no longer fragile, but radiant, spinning with the majestic glow of a perfect golden core.

The oppressive aura that had threatened to annihilate her body vanished in an instant.

What replaced it was profound, steady, and alive. Fang Lian’s breathing calmed.

The grotesque swelling in her meridians receded as golden light trickled through her veins, healing what had been moments from rupture.

Her flesh hardened, her spirit tempered, her foundation solidified, all automatically, guided by the rhythm of her new core.

Fang Yuan lowered his hand, his face as impassive as a mountain.

Yet in the depths of his eyes, an ember of approval flickered.

She had done it.

At last, her eyes fluttered open.

They were no longer the eyes of a trembling novice.

They carried weight, depth, and a golden sheen that echoed the perfect core now residing within her.