Chapter 92: True Dragon Contest [Second Update]

“Hao’er.”

Seeing Li Hao, Li Tiangang smiled and said, “Come, follow your father to the ancestral hall to pay respects to our forebears.”

“Alright.” Li Hao nodded.

After leaving Shanhe Court, the two flew through the air, one behind the other, heading toward the deepest part of the Divine General’s Mansion.

On the hillside before the ancestral hall, the white-robed Li Tiangang and Li Hao descended gracefully, landing on the square outside the hall, then walked toward the grand, majestic temple that carried the Li family’s thousand-year glory.

“Fifth Elder!”

Seeing Fifth Elder Li Qingzheng by the hall’s entrance, Li Hao immediately called out.

Hearing Li Hao’s call, Li Tiangang’s solemn expression shifted slightly; he frowned, glancing at Li Hao, who had already rushed ahead toward Fifth Uncle inside the hall.

“Ah, it’s Hao’er.”

Li Qingzheng heard Li Hao’s voice, his eyes brightening slightly as he turned with a smile: “What brought you here to see me?”

Then he noticed the tall man behind Li Hao: “Hmm, Tiangang’s back too.”

“Fifth Elder, your black stones are about to lose again,” Li Hao glanced at the chessboard and laughed.

Fifth Elder grinned slightly: “Don’t talk nonsense—it’s not decided yet.”

At that moment, Li Tiangang stepped forward, his expression solemn and respectful, bowing slightly:

“Fifth Uncle, how have you been lately?”

Li Qingzheng no longer paid attention to this meddlesome boy, looking up at Li Tiangang with a smile: “It’s been over a decade—look at you, grown so sturdy! Why the beard? How’s life in Yanbei? Hard?”

“It’s fine.”

Li Tiangang smiled: “Just a bit of sand and dust—I’ve grown used to it. Constant battles on the frontier leave no time for grooming, so I let it grow.”

Li Hao looked up at him, realizing that compared to the faint memory of his father’s youth, the man before him had transformed from a tall, handsome youth into a middle-aged man with a beard.

He suddenly felt he had shown too little care toward this father.

“You’ve truly grown up—no longer the mischievous boy you were.”

Li Qingzheng chuckled, his eyes filled with nostalgia.

The boy had grown, and they, too, had aged.

Though their realms granted long lives, humans differed from demons: demons lived long through hibernation-like states, fighting mostly only to hunt and fill their bellies.

Humans, however, lived their entire lives for just two words: human ties.

Where there is feeling, there is desire—so humans waged wars, acted as knights, sought fame, and bore wounds; old injuries never healed before new ones formed, shortening their lifespans.

Living long wasn’t hard: stay within the borders, enjoy wealth and comfort, never touch weapons or blades, become a living Bodhisattva, and you could live centuries—even a millennium in peace.

But in this whirlpool of the Jianghu, remaining unmoved by violence for centuries might be the hardest thing of all.

For example, your neighbor who regularly brings you eggs and vegetables—suddenly, he’s bullied by a villain. If you can’t stand it, you’re drawn in.

If you stand by and do nothing, your Dao heart may suffer, your heart will ache.

Three hundred years—how long that is.

“After all, you’re a father now.”

Li Tiangang smiled, a flicker of memory in his eyes, quickly suppressed.

The frost of time would polish that youthful, tender heart until it grew calluses—harder, more restrained.

“Fifth Uncle, I’ve brought Hao’er to pay respects to our ancestors, and to seek their guidance on this generation’s True Dragon.”

Li Tiangang abandoned nostalgia and returned to the matter at hand.

Li Qingzheng had expected this purpose, nodded slightly, and turned his gaze to Li Hao beside him.

His eyes softened with a smile: “Hao’er’s talent is peerless—surpassing your ninth brother. He’s the fastest in our family’s thousand-year history to reach the Fifteen-Li Realm—a record broken.”

“When Junye became True Dragon of your generation, it was a pity he died young—you took over temporarily.”

“But this generation, Hao’er is leagues ahead—no one even comes close to catching his tail.”

Hearing his Fifth Uncle’s praise, Li Tiangang smiled.

Indeed, in talent, his son was the pinnacle of excellence—and this filled his heart with quiet pride.

“Go on.”

Li Qingzheng smiled.

Li Tiangang nodded, bowed again, then turned and led Li Hao to the cushions before the ancestral altar.

“Li Family, one hundred and seventh generation descendant Li Tiangang, comes to pay respects to our forebears!”

“Li Family, one hundred and eighth generation descendant Li Hao, comes to pay respects to our forebears!”

Father and son knelt together and bowed their heads.

Above the altar, the many ancestral tablets trembled faintly, glowing as spiritual essences emerged upon them.

After bowing, Li Hao lifted his head. Last time, he hadn’t looked closely—but now he saw that though many ancestral spirits appeared, several tablets remained dim, their spirits absent.

Among them, the closest tablet bore a familiar name:

Tablet of the Spirit of Li Junye, one hundred and seventh generation descendant of the Li family.

To the left: title—Defender of the State Marquis.

To the right: military rank—Heaven-ordained Supreme General.

This was Ninth Uncle’s tablet—but no spirit appeared upon it.

For other ancestors, the tablets bore titles and military ranks—or merits. Only a few, who never served in the military, had poems inscribed on the opposite side.

Commoners’ tablets were simpler: one tablet simply read “Tablets of All Ancestors,” summarizing them all at once.

Most common folk, often displaced over time, lost their genealogies and had no choice.

Only a true “clan” preserved complete genealogies and traditions, clearly recording every ancestor by name.

“Tiangang, I hear you’ve fought in Yanbei—how many demons have you slain?”

A light laugh came from above.

Li Tiangang looked up and saw Third Uncle Li Xuanyin.

His spiritual form remained youthful, around thirty, handsome as jade.

Li Tiangang’s eyes flickered—when he was young, Third Uncle had loved him most. But Third Uncle had died young.

Their father’s generation had six brothers—three died in battle; only Second Uncle, Fifth Uncle, and Fourth Uncle, who had been away for years, remained.

His father and Sixth Uncle were both gone.

Their spiritual forms had yet to return, trapped in the River of the Dead, unable to escape.

In the past century, demon invasions had been frequent; they defended the border at terrible cost, unable to rescue them. Even if they had the strength, it was nearly impossible—this was a Youshu-level River of the Dead; to free them required completing the entire river’s passage.

Even a Four-Establishment cultivator would struggle—only a coordinated effort by several powerful cultivators might succeed.

“Nephew greets Third Uncle.”

Li Tiangang bowed first, then said: “Nearly all demons who crossed into Yanzhou have been wiped out.”

“Good!”

Li Xuanyin laughed heartily—he loathed demons above all, for the woman he loved had been killed by them.

“Where’s Qingqing? Why didn’t you bring her?” Li Xuanyin asked.

Li Tiangang’s expression changed slightly; he whispered: “She left.”

Left… Li Xuanyin paused, about to ask, then noticed Li Hao beside them. He fell silent, his energy shifting as he sent a mental message: “Did she leave you?”

Li Tiangang’s face remained calm; he replied mentally: “Yes.”

Li Xuanyin’s face showed regret—he had been very fond of his niece-in-law, and her status was excellent. He had been the first to support their union.

“You brat, are you done with your nostalgia? He’s here to discuss serious matters!”

At that moment, a sharp rebuke came from above Li Xuanyin’s head.

Li Xuanyin flinched, turned, and saw his father. He grinned sheepishly: “Father, Tiangang’s here, and his son too—give me some dignity, will you?”

“You’re asking for a beating. We’re expending energy just by appearing—want to waste it? Fine. But make the ancestors waste it too? I’ll kick your ass!”

“Father…” Li Xuanyin hung his head, looking wounded.

Li Hao stared, dumbfounded.

Just moments ago, Third Uncle had seemed so dignified and elegant—and now he was scolded like a child.

Well, technically, he was a son.

But this great-grandfather had quite the temper.

“What’s all this shouting? Xuanyin only said a few words—what’s wrong with catching up? How much energy could it possibly take? If you can’t spare it, go back to sleep!”

From above the great-grandfather who had just yelled, a white-bearded elder’s shadow scolded impatiently.

The previously furious great-grandfather shuddered, helplessly turning: “Father, this brat just needs a good beating…”

“You’re the one who needs a beating,” the great-great-grandfather snorted.

“All you brats, stop yelling—do you have any respect for your elders? Get to the point, then I’m going back to sleep,” another voice interjected.

The great-great-grandfather’s face changed; he nodded quickly, then shot a glare at his son.

The great-grandfather sighed helplessly, turning to glare fiercely at Li Xuanyin.

Li Xuanyin looked embarrassed, forced a smile at Li Tiangang, and stayed silent.

Li Hao watched, barely holding back a laugh.

Hundreds of generations of ancestors gathered together—truly a lively scene.

The Li ancestors had helped the First Emperor build his empire, establishing a thousand-year clan—but “thousand-year” meant over three thousand years now, one of the two oldest among the five Divine General Mansions.

The Great Yu Dynasty had a history of over three thousand five hundred years, and now it was entering its twilight.

Too bad ancestral spirits require energy to awaken—if not, I’d bring out mahjong for them… Li Hao thought to himself.

The thought of that scene made him feel delighted.

“You scoundrel, dare you cheat your grandfather?”

“Natural win? You dare self-draw from your ancestors’ tiles—I’ll beat you to death!”

“Touch me? Someone! Who’s this brat’s father? Come and discipline him...”

Thinking of these things, Li Hao’s lips twitched with difficulty.

“Enough, let’s get to the matter at hand.”

A forefather’s spirit spoke from above.

Li Tiangang bowed respectfully, his expression solemn: “Today, Tiangang has come to ask the ancestral spirits to decide the True Dragon candidate.”

“Tell us about this generation’s situation,” said one ancestral spirit.

Li Tiangang nodded, then explained the details he had gathered from his elder sister-in-law over the past two days.

“So it seems this generation has few talented descendants, but your son’s talent is too monstrous—he surpasses even us in our youth, capable of matching several others at once.”

“If there’s no doubt, there’s no need to drag it out, especially since he’s already begun cultivation.”

“But we can’t hand it to him outright. We must still assess his character and ensure others accept the choice. The selection will proceed as usual, but we’ll move it forward—set it for two months from now, to give others time to prepare.”

The ancestral spirits quickly deliberated and reached a decision.

Li Tiangang nodded and bowed again, kowtowing respectfully.

Seeing this, Li Hao imitated him and kowtowed as well.

“Boy, keep a close eye on your son. Don’t let him become the next Junye,” warned an ancestor from dozens of generations past, as they were leaving the ancestral hall.

Li Tiangang hurriedly nodded.

The other ancestral spirits gradually fell silent.

“Let’s go.”

Li Tiangang was about to lead Li Hao away.

Li Hao looked at Fifth Elder and said, “Can I stay here and play with you for a while?”

Li Tiangang paused, frowning: “Fifth Elder has no time to play with you. The True Dragon selection is in two months—you have much to prepare. Even though your talent is first, don’t fall too far behind in other areas, or people will gossip.”

Li Qingzheng smiled: “Who would dare dispute Hao’er’s talent? Tiangang, don’t overthink it. Old man, I won’t keep Hao’er from you—go, spend time with your son. You’ve just returned.”

Li Tiangang nodded and bowed respectfully in farewell.

Seeing this, Li Hao waved to Fifth Elder: “Then, Fifth Elder, I’ll come visit you again next time.”

“Go on, go on,” Li Qingzheng waved with a smile.

He watched the father and son walk away.

Inside the now-silent ancestral hall, only countless silent ancestral tablets remained, along with a lone chessboard before Li Qingzheng and the solitary man seated before it.

After a long while, his gaze slowly returned to the chessboard. He thought for a moment, then lifted a white stone and placed it down, murmuring:

“Your turn.”

Moments later, he reached for a black stone from the other box, pondered, and gently placed it down.

(End of Chapter)