Song Qingyun lowered his voice, his words laced with an icy edge.
"If we fight, your enemies will not only be the Song Clan, but tens of thousands of families across the land. Are you sure you want to push this to mutual destruction?"
He looked ready to throw all caution aside, the pressure rolling off him in unstable waves. Mu Yuan and Song Wanníng worked in tandem, their posture making it clear they were ready to fight at a moment's notice.
The three Patriarchs and their Ancestors froze, as though an invisible hand had gripped their throats.
The Song Clan's stance was too forceful. Not only had they failed to suppress their momentum, they had provoked them even further. But Song Qingyun's words were true. If they struck first, it would mean breaking the rules laid down by their forebears.
Would the other families agree to that?
No.
They were not yet strong enough to rewrite the rules.
So were they supposed to just hand over part of their gains?
No—they were still unwilling.
The Ning Patriarch ground his teeth in silence, his gaze drifting toward Feng Youming in the corner.
Through a sound transmission, he urged, "Senior, if not now, then when will you act? Will you really stand by and watch the Song Clan rise?"
They themselves could not make a move, but this senior was not part of the three clans. If he acted, it would have nothing to do with them. They did not expect him to kill the Song Clan members outright—only to knock them down a peg so they could negotiate from a stronger position and part with fewer benefits.
But Feng Youming was no fool to be used. He had come only to probe the Song Clan's strength and search for an opening, not to let himself be anyone's pawn. He merely lifted his eyelids, gave a bored yawn, and stayed put.
The Ning Patriarch understood immediately. Realizing he had been played, his face darkened further. Still, the man had never promised to help deal with the Song Clan. This was his own assumption.
"Fine. Fine!"
His expression twisted for a moment. The He Clan was bold indeed—joining forces with outsiders to trick them.
"This debt would be collected after the division was over."
"Patriarch Ning, your silence… does that mean you're agreeing to war?"
Song Qingyun had not missed the silent exchange between them, and now he added fuel to the fire.
The crowd's expressions turned pitch-black, but they knew there was no longer any retreat. They could only agree.
For now, they would preserve as much of their strength as possible, then find ways to trip up the Song Clan during future transitions of power, forcing their ventures to collapse early. With that plan in mind, the three Patriarchs resigned themselves and began detailed negotiations with Song Qingyun.
First came the matter of the top family's secret realm quotas. Each of them would provide one to fill the Song Clan's missing share.
Next were resources—cities, valleys, and other territories that could be divided. Song Qingyun accepted nothing less than his full due.
He had already reviewed these lists countless times back at home, so his demands were airtight. There was no way to trick him, and the three Patriarchs were nearly driven to their graves in frustration.
Mu Yuan served as a quiet support at his side, speaking up whenever Song Qingyun missed a detail.
With her parents present, Song Wanníng was perfectly at ease.
She crossed her legs, watching the others with leisurely detachment.
Feng Youming, however, was watching her.
For reasons he could not name, something about her gaze felt wrong.
There was an invasive sharpness to it, as if she had glimpsed one of his secrets, and it set him on edge. A powerful instinct warned him—he needed to be wary of this woman.
In the midst of his thoughts, Song Wanníng suddenly smiled at him.
Feng Youming's heart sank. The sense of unease grew stronger. But he quickly masked it with a cold snort, a flicker of killing intent flashing in his eyes. If she was a threat, then he might as well eliminate her. He rubbed his fingertips together, the murderous glint hidden away almost as soon as it appeared.
…
By the time negotiations ended, it was already deep into the night. The three Patriarchs were utterly exhausted, but they had been forced to keep their wits sharp under Song Qingyun's relentless demands.
Voices had been raised, faces flushed, but in the end, the division was finalized.
The Song Clan had conceded a small loss, but Song Qingyun accepted it. The bulk of what they wanted was already theirs, and even exceeded expectations. It was enough. The rest could be pursued later.
The three of them left the Ning Clan's great hall in high spirits, the fresh breeze in their expressions a sharp contrast to the grim faces left behind.
Disciples who had been secretly observing wore dark expressions, sensing trouble.
Song Qingyun only smiled faintly. After exchanging farewells with the gathered crowd, he left with his wife and daughter.
Their easy, confident backs made the others grit their teeth.
"Damn it. How did the Song Clan suddenly produce so many Divine Transformation cultivators?"
"There must be a secret. Find it out!"
Until now, they had dismissed the Song Clan as just another respectable family. Never had they expected them to slap the three great clans across the face like this. The thought alone was infuriating.
The Mu Patriarch's face was full of worry. "The Song Clan now has four Divine Transformation cultivators, already surpassing us. The balance in the future…
Patriarch Ning, from here on, I fear only your Ning Clan can still match them."
The silver in his hair seemed to have deepened, and there was a trace of gloom between his brows. There was some truth to his words.
The Ning Patriarch glanced at him but gave no reply. He would not be used as someone else's weapon. For now, the ones who should be worrying were the Mu Clan and the Sui Clan. After sending the guests away, the Ning Patriarch returned to the hall, weary in both body and mind—only to find that Feng Youming had already left.
His temper exploded. His simmering anger surged to its peak as he immediately contacted the He Patriarch, cursing him out before raising the taxes and rents on several of his cities.
The He Patriarch was scolded until he was dizzy, his blood surging with rage. When he learned that the Song Clan had secured resources and that Feng Youming had never acted from start to finish, his face turned ashen. His eyebrows even trembled from the fury.
"What the hell are they doing? Weren't they going to deal with the Song Clan?"
He could not understand how things had ended this way and could only send another message to demand an explanation.
The answer that came back was simply, "Watch and wait."
The He Patriarch nearly broke. With a loud crash, he kicked over a massive vase beside him, cursing under his breath. In the end, the Song Clan had profited, while the He Clan had suffered losses. Who could tolerate that?
By now, he was already regretting his cooperation with them. But once you boarded a pirate ship, you could not disembark at will. Before he could even calm down, news came that the Song Clan indeed had four Divine Transformation cultivators sitting in their halls.
He dropped back into his seat, his eyes widening in shock.
Impossible. What had the Song Clan done…?
In that moment, everyone was filled with the same mix of shock and curiosity.
They all wanted to know what great fortune the Song Clan had stumbled upon.
The Song Clan had been marked.
Song Qingyun immediately halted all spirit stone shipments.
With countless eyes now watching them, they could not make a single rash move—lest they expose the secret of the spirit vein.