Chapter 35: Ancestral Hall of the Forebears

Several months later.

By the Blackwater Demon Lake.

Li Hao yanked a Fish Spirit from the Eight-Stage Heavenly Circuit Realm out of the water, casually slicing it in half with a single slash of his sword. He then set up a fire pit and hung a large iron cauldron over the flames. With swift, fluid motions—scaling, skinning, deboning—the fish was quickly prepared. This time, no spicy pepper. Instead, he made a nourishing soup, tossing in a variety of wild mushrooms he’d gathered. The rich, earthy aroma of the fungi wafted through the air, curling around the iron lid and drifting toward the lakeside.

Two old anglers, quietly fishing nearby, couldn’t help but sniff the air. Their eyes flicked toward the cauldron, drawn by the scent.

“Alright, dig in!” Li Hao announced.

In an instant, the two elders vanished like shadows, appearing beside the pot with their utensils—delicate jade chopsticks in one hand, rough sticks scraped from branches in the other. Both plunged them into the steaming broth at once.

“Mmm… not bad!” Li Moxiu slurped a mouthful of fish, giving Li Hao a thumbs-up.

Old Feng chuckled, serving himself a bowl of the fragrant soup and savoring it slowly.

The fish had been a real boon—not only had it granted him a nice chunk of Fishing Experience, but also dozens of points in Cooking Art. Li Hao estimated his Culinary Dao would be the second art to reach the Third Stage, right after Go Art.

“Come on, little one—try some,” Li Hao said, plating a slice of fish onto a leaf. A flash of white darted forward, landing on the leaf and devouring it in a single bite.

“Still a fox, but you’ve turned him into a dog,” Old Feng teased.

He’d been back for months now, though he’d never said what he’d been doing. Neither Li Moxiu nor Li Hao had asked. They didn’t need to.

“Doesn’t matter much,” Li Hao said with a grin.

When they’d eaten halfway through, Li Hao judged the moment right. He set down his bowl and turned to Li Moxiu. “Second Grandfather… I’ve been thinking. I’m planning to attempt the Continuation of Soul Realm soon. Would you be willing to take me to the Ancestral Hall, if you’re free?”

“Huh?”

Both men paused, chopsticks mid-air, staring at him.

Li Moxiu blinked. “You’re… aiming for the Continuation of Soul Realm? You’ve already perfected the Circulation Realm?”

“Yeah,” Li Hao nodded.

He’d deliberately delayed telling them for months, afraid the news would seem too shocking, too unbelievable.

“Seriously?” Feng Bo Ping dropped his chopsticks, eyes wide. He hadn’t even finished chewing. “You’re not joking, are you? I know you play around, but you’ve never messed with cultivation like this.”

Eight years old. To attempt the Continuation of Soul Realm?

It was absurd.

“Your Dragon River Divine Meridian is fully perfected? How? Even if you’re not a Warrior’s Wasteland Constitution, your father didn’t enter the Continuation of Soul Realm until he was nine.”

Li Moxiu studied him, baffled. He knew this boy wasn’t the kind to joke about such things. But even prodigies had limits. He’d seen geniuses before—like Li Junye, who had only just completed his soul succession at eight and a half.

But Li Hao… he’d spent his days fishing with them, sometimes sitting by the lake all day. How had he possibly trained so hard?

“…It’s true,” Li Hao admitted, realizing he’d probably overestimated the old man’s ability to handle the truth. But there was no turning back now.

“Did you somehow unlock your meridians on your own?” Li Moxiu asked, eyes narrowing.

“You’ve got incredible Body Cultivation talent, but reaching Continuation of Soul Realm usually takes seven or eight years—sometimes decades, even a lifetime. How could you have perfected your Meridian Opening in just a year?”

“Easy,” Old Feng said with a smirk. “Let the little squirrel show us.”

Li Moxiu nodded. “Yes. Let’s see it.”

“Alright,” Li Hao said, stepping back from the fire pit. He gathered his Qi, then unleashed a surge of power—54 major meridians flared to life, a tidal wave of spiritual energy surging through his body. For a moment, he let go of the concealment effect of his “Ten Thousand Phenomena” attribute, allowing his aura to radiate freely.

Li Moxiu’s eyes bulged. Old Feng’s jaw dropped.

Unbelievable.

Li Moxiu nearly dropped his chopsticks into the pot.

He stared at the boy—only eight years old—yet his meridians were perfectly aligned, fully open, brimming with vitality. A true Circulation Realm Perfection.

Feng Bo Ping blinked, then turned to Li Moxiu, utterly speechless. “Your family really does produce freaks. First Li Junye, now this kid. If the Other Divine General’s Residence hears about this, they’ll be furious—probably file a dozen complaints just to spite you.”

Li Moxiu remained frozen, still in shock. This wasn’t just a prodigy of the Circulation Realm Perfection. It meant one thing: Li Hao’s meridians were unblocked.

That meant he was no longer a Warrior’s Wasteland Constitution. He could cultivate.

And his talent… it dwarfed even Xiao Jiu’s. He was unquestionably the greatest talent among the next three generations. Perhaps even the greatest in the last ten.

A storm of thoughts crashed through his mind. And suddenly, a pang of guilt pierced his heart.

This kind of genius… and I’ve spent months dragging him around, fishing, wasting his time. Had I known… I could’ve guided him.

“Second Grandfather?” Li Hao’s voice snapped him back.

Li Moxiu snapped to attention, instinctively reaching for his chopsticks to maintain composure. But they were already in the soup. He let out a bitter chuckle, then locked eyes with Li Hao.

“Your meridians… how did they open?”

“…It was a dream,” Li Hao said. “One day, I was dreaming—cultivating in my sleep. Suddenly, I felt a surge, like my entire body had been released. When I woke up, it felt… easy. Meridian Opening was no longer a struggle. It just… happened.”

Silence.

The two elders stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.

You woke up and your meridians opened?

Were they hearing things?

But what else could explain it?

“Could it be… the blockage wasn’t real?” Feng Bo Ping stroked his long, white beard, thoughtful. “I’ve heard some Warrior’s Wasteland Constitutions are temporary. Some break through on their own, unexpectedly. Maybe he’s one of those.”

“Possible,” Li Moxiu murmured. He’d heard of such cases—rare, but not unheard of.

“Now that he can cultivate… your family’s really dangerous. One true dragon falls, another rises. Remarkable.”

Li Moxiu sighed deeply. “I should’ve trained him properly. Instead, I kept him fishing, wasting time.”

Li Hao flinched. “Wait—don’t tell me you’re going to force me to train now?”

“Force you?” Li Moxiu snapped, annoyed. “Now that you can cultivate, don’t you want to build a glorious legacy? Achieve fame?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Li Hao shot back instantly. “Second Grandfather, please don’t ruin my life! I don’t want to join the army, go to war. This life is perfect—peaceful, comfortable. Fame? Even dogs wouldn’t want it. Let whoever wants it take it!”

Li Moxiu stared, stunned. Most youths would’ve been ecstatic at the chance to rise to glory. This boy… spoke like a madman.

“Hahaha!” Old Feng burst into laughter. “Now this is the real difference between Little Squirrel and Junye. I actually agree—what’s the point of fame? The world rewards the young, but in the end, wealth and honor are fleeting.”

Li Moxiu’s expression flickered. A sharp pain stabbed his chest, like a fishbone piercing his heart.

Li Junye—once a meteoric prodigy, dazzling to all. But he’d burned out just as fast. A flash in the pan.

Now he looked at Li Hao—wide-eyed, nervous, just a child.

If he sent this boy to war… could he be the next Li Junye?

He exhaled heavily. “Alright. If you don’t want fame… fine. You can stay here, like me. Live quietly. A nameless, forgotten old man.”

Old Feng grinned. “Who’d call the Fist Saint nameless? Only if they’d lost their jaw to my fist.”

Li Moxiu glared at him. Then turned back to Li Hao. “When your parents hear about this and come looking for you, I’ll take the blame. I’ll endure their scolding. Now come—eat.”

With a flick of his finger, he sent the chopsticks flying from the pot. Then he grabbed a branch, stripped it, and carved a new pair—eating with quiet intensity, though his mood had darkened, heavy with thought.

Li Hao exhaled in relief. As long as he could still fish with the old man, it was fine.

He could fish alone, of course. But fishing with Li Moxiu at this Spirit Lake? It meant safety, the chance to catch rare treasures. A truly enjoyable life.

He sat back down and resumed eating.

“Second Grandfather… about the Continuation of Soul Realm…”

“Hmph. Eat first,” Li Moxiu grunted, then plunged his chopsticks into the fish with renewed vigor. “I’ll take you after.”

Li Hao relaxed. He dug in, his appetite restored.

…

Deep within the Divine General’s Residence, nestled in a hollowed-out slope, stood the Li Clan Ancestral Hall.

Outside, the perimeter was heavily guarded—armored soldiers stood watch. But the stone steps leading up the slope were empty, covered only in fallen leaves.

Before the imposing, solemn hall, a wide plaza stretched out, dotted with several massive cauldrons, their incense smoke drifting into the sky.

Two figures descended from the heavens, landing silently on the plaza before walking slowly up the steps.

Even Li Moxiu, usually so carefree, now walked with solemn respect, guiding Li Hao through the gates.

“Brother,” came a calm voice from within—smooth as a still lake. Just hearing it, the mind felt quiet, thoughts soothed.

Li Hao looked inside. The hall was filled with ancestral tablets. Among them stood a golden statue—tall, radiant, the image of Li Tianyuan, the founding Divine General.

Beside a cushion before the tablets sat an ancient man with long white beard and brows, seated in quiet meditation. Before him lay a Go board. He placed a stone with deliberate calm.

“Just bringing the young one to pay respects to the ancestors,” Li Moxiu said, stepping through the threshold.

The old man glanced up, eyes meeting Li Hao’s. For a moment, the depths of his ancient gaze stirred.

“Continuation of Soul?” he murmured. “This child… he looks even younger than Junye. Brother, are you teasing me?”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end