The Heavens' Inquiry

Yang Fan's face revealed a trace of relief. Even in his most downtrodden moments, there were still those who treated him the same as before. Indeed, family was the purest and most selfless form of affection in the world.

Though Yang Fan and Yang Lei were half-brothers, they had grown up together, and the bond they shared was even stronger than that of most blood-related siblings.

"Alright, it's getting late. Let's head to the 'Heavens' Inquiry' together," Yang Fan said calmly, walking through the bustling Yang family fortress with Yang Lei by his side. In Yang Lei's eyes, a hint of complexity lingered. 

Under the morning sun, Yang Fan's white hair stood out starkly—a boy of eighteen with a head of flowing white locks, a sight so steeped in sorrow and weariness that it tugged at the heart. The mortals of Yang family fortress were familiar with Yang Fan, for among the third-generation disciples, he alone had mastered the art of soaring through the skies, sword beneath his feet. In the past, his every appearance would cause a sensation.

And today was no different.

A hum swept through the crowd, and whispers surged like an uncontainable tide.

"What happened? The greatest genius of the southern Yang family—his hair has turned white all of a sudden. He looks frail, like he's barely holding himself together. Is he really going to participate in the Heavens' Inquiry?"

"Probably suffered from a cultivation mishap. He can barely walk straight now. In such a state, how could he possibly attend the Heavens' Inquiry?"

"Hey, you're a disciple of the Yang family too, right? You must know something."

"Huh…?" The young Yang disciple was briefly taken aback, then gasped in shock. "Brother Yang Fan… has dispersed his cultivation. He's become a cripple!"

Dispersed his cultivation? A cripple?

The conclusion sent shockwaves through the crowd, like a boiling cauldron of disbelief.

"Big news! The greatest genius of the southern Yang family has become a cripple!"

In an instant, the news of Yang Fan's downfall spread across the fortress like wildfire.

"Hah, so he's a cripple now. No wonder he wasn't flying around showing off today."

Some sneered, taking pleasure in his misfortune.

"Seeing him with that white hair, so full of sorrow, and now knowing he's lost his powers—it's pitiful."

One of the more compassionate disciples couldn't hold back tears, though his kindness was met with disdainful looks from those around him.

"You're so weak…"

"He deserved to lose his powers! He was always so high and mighty—now look at him, brought low like the rest of us, tasting what it's like to be mortal."

Voices of mockery and scorn rang out, though a few remained silent, harboring sympathy and regret for the fallen genius.

"Enough! All of you, shut your mouths!"

Yang Lei, unable to contain his anger, gathered his energy and shouted in fury. His voice rang out, silencing the crowd instantly. The mortals, cowed by the force of his aura, dared not speak. 

Yang Lei was a cultivator, having reached the late stage of Qi Refinement. Among the third-generation disciples, few could rival him, save for his older brother Yang Fan and the near-perfect Yang Guang. In terms of talent, he was exceptional within the family.

"Ha ha ha… Yang Lei, brother, I could hear your voice from afar. What's riled you up so much?"

A sly, greasy-looking man approached. He was short and plump, about thirty years old, with a protruding belly, fat cheeks, and eyes that squinted to mere slits when he smiled.

"Li Fatty?" Yang Lei stiffened for a moment, then growled in anger. "Get lost!"

Li Fatty's full name was Li Fuguai, the nephew of the Yang family's patriarch. He was notorious for his lecherous, depraved nature, frequenting brothels and surrounding himself with a band of equally corrupt cronies. His reputation in the Yang family fortress was far from stellar, and many mortals and fellow disciples despised him.

Even the head of the Yang family, Yang Hong, held little fondness for him.

However, Li Fatty had one strong backer—the family patriarch, who doted on him excessively. Since Yang Hong had no sons of his own, only a daughter named Yang Man, the patriarch favored his orphaned nephew and indulged his every whim. And though Yang Hong himself was reluctant, he never dared to truly punish Li Fatty for his many misdeeds, preferring to look the other way.

Of all the Yang family disciples, only Yang Fan had ever dared to harshly reprimand Li Fatty. 

"Ah, but isn't this our family's greatest talent?"

Li Fatty's face beamed with a bright smile, though his eyes, focused on Yang Fan, glittered with malice. Yang Lei, standing beside him, was completely ignored.

Three months ago, Yang Fan had thoroughly humiliated Li Fatty, and the latter had been nursing a grudge ever since. Now that Yang Fan had lost his powers and become a mere mortal, Li Fatty couldn't have been more pleased.

Mortals nearby, seeing Li Fatty approach, wore looks of fear mixed with intense loathing.

"Thanks for the praise," Yang Fan said, his face composed. "But now, I'm nothing more than a cripple."

"Ha ha ha… Then how about I call you the 'Number One Waste of the Yang Family?' What do you say to that, Brother Fan?"

Li Fatty's grin was as harmless as ever, but the venom in his words was unmistakable.

"You're asking for death!" Yang Lei broke free of his brother's grasp, chanting incantations as his hand gleamed with fiery light. The air itself seemed to shimmer with heat.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Three fireballs shot forth from his hand, the bright flames causing panic to spread through the crowd.

"Run!"

"Oh no, the cultivators are fighting…"

Li Fatty was startled, never expecting Yang Lei to attack. Quickly, he summoned a blue talisman, channeling his power into it.

The talisman transformed into a shimmering blue water shield that hovered before him, the surface rippling with an inner blue glow.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The fireballs collided with the water shield, sending waves of energy rippling through the air.

"You brats, and you, 'Number One Waste,' just you wait!"

Seizing the chance, Li Fatty fled the scene, knowing full well he couldn't match Yang Lei in strength. Despite receiving ample resources from the Yang family's patriarch, his cultivation remained stuck in the early stages of Qi Refinement, hindered by his laziness and indulgence in worldly pleasures.

"Brother, let's go. If anyone dares insult you again, I'll break their legs!" Yang Lei glared at the surrounding crowd.

Yang Fan smiled gently. "He's just a fly, little brother. Don't let him get to you. Cultivators must guard against a restless heart."

"How can you stay so calm, brother? Li Fatty just insulted you like that!" Yang Lei huffed in frustration.

"Peace, peace," Yang Fan replied, his tone as steady as an ancient well. He walked on calmly, and this composure left Yang Lei in awe.

"Brother, I'm impressed. Truly."

Yang Lei could only smile wryly, following his brother as they headed toward the family's sacred grounds.

…

Every three years, the Yang family of the southern ridge held the 'Heavens' Inquiry,' a gathering where the family's elders would assess the progress of their descendants' cultivation, ensuring the future of the family.

As always, the inquiry was held at the 'Heavens' Platform,' a towering structure of dark stone, forged from a rare material that resisted magic and force. The platform stood tall and imposing, its black surface radiating a sense of weight and solemnity. 

By the time Yang Fan and Yang Lei arrived, the platform was already surrounded by a throng of eager family disciples, each itching to prove their worth.

For the third-generation disciples, the Heavens' Inquiry was an opportunity to showcase their talent, with the potential for rewards from the elders.

Yang Fan's appearance caused an immediate stir.

"Hey, did you hear? Our family's greatest genius, Yang Fan, is a cripple now."

"Hmph, I heard he's now the 'Number One Waste' of the Yang family."

…

The disciples' whispers filled the air, though some cast sympathetic looks toward Yang Fan.

It was clear. From this moment on, the once-glorious first genius of the Yang family had fallen from grace.

Yang Fan gripped his brother's hand tightly, preventing him from lashing out. In a low voice, he said, "Do not act rashly, little brother. If you want to avenge me, then train diligently from now on and surpass all of them."

Yang Lei gazed into his brother's eyes, those deep and dark pools that held an unfathomable wisdom, a quiet certainty, and a will of steel. There was no despair or dejection in Yang Fan's gaze.

Yang Lei's heart trembled. He felt an odd sense of powerlessness, as if he were standing in the presence of something far beyond him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Brother, I'll listen to you…"

Yang Fan smiled gently, his dark eyes once again serene, like the still surface of a calm lake.

"How strange… In that moment, my brother seemed completely unreadable," Yang Lei thought, glancing at Yang Fan's resolute face. Despite

 the crushing weight of his circumstances, Yang Fan's poise was unshakeable.

He would not remain fallen for long.