After watching the silhouettes of the two clan elders vanish into the night, Shi Pojing turned his gaze toward the brightly lit Chen Clan estate in the distance.

"Let’s see how the Chen Clan handles this," he muttered. That Blood Rice—they could consider it as good as burned.

…

Though night had fallen, the Chen Clan estate was still lively, filled with cheer. The successful harvest of the Blood Rice had already been secured in the clan’s warehouse, leaving no room for lingering worry.

The joy of the yield was contagious. The clansmen celebrated openly, their spirits high. After all, this Blood Rice could soon be exchanged for precious cultivation resources that would sustain the clan's development for months to come.

“Clan Leader,” a clansman reported, “this season, we cultivated twelve acres of fertile land. Earlier, to avoid attracting suspicion during inspections, we uprooted about one acre's worth of Blood Rice. That leaves eleven acres. Factoring in the pest infestation, we lost around two to three hundred kilograms. Still, the total harvest came to over seven thousand kilograms.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Chen Xingzhen’s eyes. In the past, even under careful tending, each acre of land typically yielded around six hundred kilograms. Yet despite the pest damage and other setbacks this time, the total output hadn’t decreased.

In fact, it had slightly increased.

“Even with the problems we had, we somehow ended up with more,” he murmured inwardly. Per acre, the yield had risen by ten kilograms. The results were unexpected—and enlightening.

It seemed the earlier decision to prune away excess leaves had helped the Blood Rice grow better. This was something the clan had never noticed before. Fortunately, it wasn’t too late. Next season, they could designate two acres specifically for controlled experimentation, aiming to further increase their yield.

“I understand,” Chen Xingzhen said after a pause. “Have the clansmen begin packing the Blood Rice tomorrow. The Zhou Clan should be sending someone within a few days.”

“Yes, Clan Leader,” the subordinate replied.

The successful harvest and improved yield brought genuine joy to Chen Xingzhen’s heart. These grains would serve as the clan’s foundation for cultivation in the coming months. Even though half of it had to be handed over, under the current circumstances, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Just as his father used to say.

…

Unconsciously, Chen Xingzhen’s feet carried him toward the ancestral hall. He was in a good mood—naturally, he wished to offer his thanks to the Divine Tree. But halfway there, his steps came to a sudden halt.

A strange image appeared in his mind: two figures clad in black robes racing toward the Chen Clan estate, their movements urgent, their target unmistakable.

The two moved swiftly through the air, barely touching the ground with their toes. Their speed alone confirmed it—Innate Realm cultivators.

The image flashed and vanished, but Chen Xingzhen knew it wasn’t a hallucination. This was the Divine Tree's warning! Realizing what he had seen, he immediately roused his qi and blood. His voice boomed through the night.

"To arms! Prepare for battle!"

The shout echoed across the estate, and within seconds, armed clansmen flooded into position, iron weapons at the ready.

Not far away, the two intruders froze as they heard the sudden cry. Gazing at the Chen Clan estate, now bristling with defense, they exchanged bewildered glances.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” one muttered.

With their strength, even the Chen Clan's Innate Realm cultivator shouldn't have been able to detect them. The only explanation was the Chen Clan’s totem.

The two men halted just outside the clan perimeter, uncertainty in their eyes. According to the plan, they were to sneak in quietly. If they were discovered afterward, it wouldn't matter. With their power, they could escape with ease.

But now they’d been exposed before even crossing the threshold. That complicated things.

While the Chen Clan lacked high-level martial artists, this was still their home turf. And that Divine Tree of theirs—it was planted right in the ancestral hall!

“What now?” Shi Hou asked under his breath.

There was no one else to turn to. The decision was theirs alone.

Shi Yu thought for only a heartbeat before replying, “We fight.”

“I’ll keep their Innate Realm cultivator busy. You find the grain and destroy it.”

“Got it.”

Without further discussion, they split. Shi Yu revealed himself first, leaping into the sky above the Chen Clan estate.

Before he could reach his target, another figure intercepted him midair—Chen Qingyu, already prepared. The moment they locked eyes, they clashed with no words spoken, exchanging blows with deadly intent.

Seeing Shi Yu engage the clan’s strongest, Shi Hou veered toward another direction, aiming to sneak into the compound.

But just as he scaled the outer wall, he froze.

On the other side, several Body Tempering Realm cultivators were already waiting.

Before he could react, explosions erupted around him—

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sudden concussions startled him. As he regained focus, a group of clan members—clearly enhanced by the Five Viscera Ascension Technique—charged at him with reckless abandon.

He couldn’t help but pause. These men were willingly using techniques that damaged their own bodies. Even for an experienced warrior like Shi Hou, the sight was jarring.

But he wasn’t just any cultivator. As a late-stage Innate Realm expert, he struck with speed and precision. Before the charging men could reach him, Shi Hou soared into the air and unleashed a powerful Profound-Rank battle technique.

With one strike, his attackers were sent flying.

He sneered. “You think ants like you can stop me?”

The plan was ruined—but that no longer mattered. He had been discovered, and now, there was no need for restraint.

He turned and made for the Chen Clan’s warehouse—he’d already scouted its location in advance. But just as he took a few steps, his expression shifted. The men he had just taken down... were getting back up.

They looked ecstatic, grinning ear to ear.

"This feels amazing!"

"Kill!"

"Charge!"

Watching them come at him again, Shi Hou’s shock turned into disbelief.

He was a late-stage Innate Realm cultivator. These men were merely at the mid-stage Blood Coagulation Realm—and that was after forcibly boosting their strength with self-harm. Even a casual blow should’ve crippled them.

And yet he’d used seventy percent of his strength.

Even if they hadn’t died, they should’ve been incapacitated. So why were they charging him again, completely healed?

His shock deepened. Still, he didn’t slow down.

Another Profound-Rank battle technique surged forth, striking the attackers once more and sending them crashing to the ground. But this time, Shi Hou paid close attention.

As the fallen men writhed, small green particles of light emerged around them and were swiftly absorbed into their bodies. As they did, their wounds began to close—fast.

Now he understood. It was the power of the Chen Clan’s totem. Divine power. A blessing from the tree.

But even as comprehension dawned, Shi Hou didn’t falter. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, more resolute. Even divine power must have limits. He refused to believe the Chen Clan’s totem could bring the dead back to life.

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