The shadow in the doorway resolved into a man who seemed to carry the weight of Yan Town on his shoulders. The Patriarch of the Yan Clan, Yan Tian, stepped inside, his sharp, hawk-like eyes sweeping the room. He was old, perhaps the same age as Master Feng, but where Feng was a scholar, Yan Tian was a warrior. His back was straight as a spear, and his presence alone was enough to make the air in the room feel heavy.
His gaze passed over his two grandchildren, now sitting up and sipping water, and a flicker of profound relief crossed his face. He saw Captain Gao, who immediately knelt. He saw the exhausted, humbled Master Feng. And finally, his gaze landed on the small, ragged, blood-stained boy on the cot, the impossible center of this entire storm. A deep, calculating frown etched itself onto the Patriarch's face.
Captain Gao did not wait to be asked. "Patriarch," he began, delivering a swift, clear report of the impossible events—the poison, the divine diagnosis, the creation of the miracle herb, and the successful cure.
As Gao spoke, Yan Tian's gaze remained locked on Li Xuan. 'A boy?' the Patriarch thought, his mind racing. 'Impossible. Gao is loyal to a fault, but he is not a liar. And the fern… it radiates a life force I can feel from here. If even half of what he says is true... this boy is not a person. He is a strategic asset of the highest order. A monstrous talent.' The corner of his mouth twitched. 'And with him in our clan, this old fool Feng will be wrapped around his finger. The Alchemist Association would become an extension of my Yan Clan's will.'
The potential was limitless. He had to have this boy.
He walked to the side of the cot, acknowledging Li Xuan not as a child, but as an asset to be acquired. "On behalf of the Yan Clan, you have my deepest gratitude," the Patriarch said, his voice a low, powerful rumble. "The rewards promised will be honored." He then made his move. "You are clearly exhausted, Master Li. Captain Gao will escort you to your new residence. It is the finest courtyard in the Yan estate, where you may rest and recover as an honored guest of my clan."
"Over my dead body!"
The shout came from Master Feng. The old alchemist, who had been standing by reverently, suddenly rushed forward, his face red with passion, planting himself between the Patriarch's guards and Li Xuan's cot like a mother hen protecting her chick.
The room froze. To openly defy the Patriarch was treason.
Yan Tian's eye twitched, but he didn't radiate killing intent. Instead, his face settled into a look of profound, weary annoyance. "Feng, you old goat, don't start," he grumbled, his tone that of a man dealing with a lifelong, stubborn rival. "This is Yan Clan business."
"Alchemy is my business, Yan Tian!" Feng retorted, his voice trembling with righteous fury. "And this boy is the future of the alchemical Dao! You want to stick him in your barracks with your grunting, muscle-headed warriors? You'll ruin him! He needs a library, not a training yard! He needs the scent of herbs, not the stench of sweat and steel!"
'They're arguing over me like two old women at a fish market,' Li Xuan thought, a fresh wave of annoyance washing over him.
"He will have a library," Yan Tian countered, his voice like grinding stones. "I will build him a private, three-story alchemical laboratory in his courtyard. It will be grander than this entire, dusty association of yours."
"You can give him things, but you cannot give him knowledge!" Feng shot back, puffing out his chest. "He needs a master's guidance! A community of scholars!"
"Guidance?" the Patriarch scoffed, a cruel smile on his face. "You old fool, you just knelt on the floor and begged to be his disciple. What guidance can you possibly offer him?"
Feng's face turned beet red. "I… I can assist him! I can handle the trivial matters! I can ensure his profound thoughts are not disturbed by the mundane world!"
The two most powerful men in Yan Town were now engaged in a full-blown bidding war over a seven-year-old boy. Li Xuan decided he'd had enough of the noise.
"Stop squabbling like children," his weak voice cut through their argument.
Both old men immediately fell silent, turning to look at him like scolded schoolboys.
Li Xuan's blurry gaze settled on the Patriarch. "Your clan's protection is accepted," he said, acknowledging the deal. He then turned his head to Feng. "And this old man is my servant. A servant naturally resides with his master."
He let the implication sink in before delivering the final verdict to the stunned Patriarch.
"I will be staying with him."
The look on Yan Tian's face was a magnificent storm of surprise, fury at being publicly rejected, and a strange, grudging respect. He had just been outmaneuvered and dismissed by a seven-year-old beggar. He shot Master Feng a glare that clearly promised, "This isn't over, you old bastard."
He gave a sharp, final nod. "As you wish, Master Li," he said through gritted teeth. With that, he spun on his heel and swept out of the room.
The crisis was finally over. Li Xuan now had the backing of both of the most powerful men in town, who were now in a cold war over him. And he had a new home. His life as an anonymous beg
gar was officially over.