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The morning sun spread gently over Shadowridge City, casting long shadows over its cobbled streets and tiled rooftops. Merchants prepared their stalls, the clatter of wood and metal mixing with the distant calls of hawkers. On an ordinary day, the city seemed calm, but today, an unusual tension lingered in the air, subtle but palpable, like a tremor beneath the surface.
At the edge of the city, in a modest mansion surrounded by high walls entwined with creeping ivy, a young man stood silently on the balcony. His dark eyes scanned the horizon, unblinking, calculating. Tang Ren, seventeen years old, appeared no different from an ordinary youth, yet the aura he exuded betrayed the immense power restrained beneath his calm exterior. Ancestor-level cultivation coursed through him, a force that could shatter mountains and warp the very space around him—but today, he held it back.
Inside the mansion, the faint aroma of brewed tea mingled with the warmth of morning bread. A small, delicate figure played in the hallway, clutching a doll as if it were her closest friend. Tang Lian, Tang Ren's younger sister, barely four years old, giggled and spun in circles, her innocence a stark contrast to the dark power her brother contained.
"Brother, will you come play?" Tang Lian's voice was soft, light, yet carried the earnestness only a child could summon.
Tang Ren descended from the balcony, each step measured and precise. He knelt slightly to meet her gaze. "Not now, Lian," he said calmly, his voice quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument. "Today… we have to meet someone important."
The someone he referred to was no ordinary person. In two days, Nalan Yanran's marriage to the Pill King's young master would be held in the heart of Shadowridge City, drawing the attention of many powerful cultivators. Tang Ren and his small family had arrived ahead of time to handle matters quietly, away from the crowd, and to reunite with someone lost long ago.
Near the entrance hall, Tang Ren's mother, Yan Xiaoyu, stood with serene composure. Her posture was elegant, yet her eyes held a flicker of unease. Once a prodigious disciple of the Cloud Misty Sect, she had been taken from her family by her master as a child. Years of hardship had hardened her, but the memory of the sister she had lost—Yan Yan—still haunted her silently. She had hidden the truth from her own family to keep them safe, burying the past deep within herself, until now.
Tang Ren observed his mother briefly before turning back toward the city streets. His mind was already calculating the sequence of events to come. The wedding would be chaotic. Powerful figures, both from sects and merchant families, would converge. And he, though seemingly a mere youth, would be present at the exact moment when fates collided.
"Mother… is she truly here?" Tang Ren asked, his voice low, almost contemplative.
Yan Xiaoyu's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes. But… she may not recognize me at first. Years have passed."
Tang Ren nodded once. "Then we'll let it happen naturally. I will only step in if needed." His words were simple, but the confidence behind them was absolute.
A sudden gust of wind stirred the ivy on the walls, carrying with it the faintest scent of incense and earth from the distant mountains where the Cloud Misty Sect resided. Tang Ren's eyes narrowed subtly. That scent reminded him of the countless dungeons he had cleared in secret, the treasures collected, the martial techniques mastered, and the cultivation he had refined in silence. Forty dungeons completed, each conquered without anyone in the city noticing.
Yet today was different. Today, he would witness the reunion of his mother and her sister, and the fragile threads of the past would tangle with the present. Tang Lian, sensing the change in the atmosphere, stopped spinning and looked up at her brother with wide eyes.
"Brother… I feel… strange," she said softly, her voice laced with curiosity and the instinctual fear only children could sense when something extraordinary approached.
Tang Ren crouched, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Stay close to me," he instructed. "Whatever happens, I won't let anything touch you or our mother."
At that very moment, in the distant eastern gate of the city, a small group approached. Among them, Yan Yan, elegant and poised, her violet robes catching the morning light, moved with the grace befitting a master of the Cloud Misty Sect. She was unaware that two lives connected to her past—her sister and her nephew—were already watching, hidden, and calculating how they would intervene.
As Yan Yan's carriage passed through the city streets, merchants paused, and commoners whispered of her beauty and authority. Yet Tang Ren did not flinch. He did not need to. His power, though hidden, radiated in subtle waves that brushed the street like a shadowed wind, unnoticed by all but the most perceptive.
The carriage halted near the Nalan Clan estate, where preparations for the grand wedding were underway. Guards lined the walls, and the aroma of ceremonial herbs filled the air. Yan Xiaoyu's hands clenched briefly, her heart tightening with anticipation. She had long wondered if her sister had survived, if she had been forced into marriage, or if she remained a prisoner of circumstance.
Tang Ren's lips pressed into a thin line. His shadow attribute hummed faintly beneath his skin, unseen but palpable. The system within him had prepared for countless eventualities, yet it would not reveal its full strength today. Not yet.
A sudden commotion near the estate gate caught the attention of everyone present. Several disciples of the Nalan Clan rushed forward, their expressions tight with tension. Tang Ren's eyes narrowed. He could sense it—the first ripple of the chaos to come.
"Stay behind me," he whispered to Lian. "No one must see your strength. Not today."
And with that, the shadows seemed to gather around him, thin and intangible, like a curtain ready to conceal the storm to come.
Inside the estate, Yan Xiaoyu's heart raced as she stepped forward to greet her sister. Her mind flashed to the past—pain, separation, fear—but she forced herself to remain composed. Today, the past and present would collide, and nothing could undo what had been set in motion.
Outside, Tang Ren's shadowed eyes followed every movement, every shift of power around the wedding. His senses, honed by countless dungeon battles, picked up the faintest changes in aura, even from within the bustling crowd. He could feel the presence of masters, unknown yet formidable, converging. And he waited, silent, patient, like a predator calculating the perfect strike.
The stage was set. Shadows and light danced across Shadowridge City, and the first threads of a story that would shake even the Nalan Clan were about to unravel.
Tang Lian, unaware of the magnitude of what was happening, tugged at her brother's sleeve. "Brother… is she really my aunt?"
Tang Ren's gaze softened for a fleeting moment. "Yes, Lian. She is… and today, you will see her again."
As the carriage drew closer, and the distant sounds of preparation echoed across the estate, the air thickened with tension. Yan Xiaoyu's heart pounded, Tang Ren's presence radiated, and the shadows of the past began to stir once more.
The wedding, the reunion, and the clash of destinies were imminent. And in that calm before the storm, Tang Ren remained hidden in plain sight, his power masked, his mind sharp, and his resolve unyielding.
For what was coming would not only test the strength of the Nalan Clan but also reveal the hidden depths of the boy known as Tang Ren—and the shadow that followed him everywhere.
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End of Chapter 1