The Three-Year Pact

The air hung heavy with silence.

Yang Fan's heart sank as he felt every gaze in the room lock onto him. Inwardly, he sighed. To be challenged by the heir of the prestigious Kyoto Yang Clan at this crucial moment was nothing short of disastrous. Had this been an ordinary day, he would have met the challenge without fear, as he too was once in the Spirit Condensation stage. But now, all his cultivation had vanished, leaving him powerless—how could he possibly contend with such a foe?

Yang Yu's gaze followed the crowd's stares until it landed on Yang Fan, and a flicker of surprise passed across his face. 

Before him stood an eighteen-year-old youth with a striking head of white hair, a sight both haunting and unforgettable. Even for Yang Yu, the first glimpse of this figure stirred a sense of melancholy. What shocked him even more was that this so-called "genius" of the Nanling Yang Clan had been reduced to a cripple.

"Fan'er, what is going on here?" 

The family head, Yang Hong, along with the gathered elders, fixed their bewildered gazes on Yang Fan, equally taken aback. 

Yang Fan bowed slightly toward the family head, his expression calm. "Last night, while cultivating, I suffered from a qi deviation and lost all my power. I am now nothing more than a cripple." 

A wave of shock rippled through the ranks of the Nanling Yang Clan's elders. This youth had been their painstakingly nurtured genius, the one they had pinned their hopes on for the future, and now he was reduced to nothing. 

Years of effort, training, and anticipation—all for naught. Yang Hong's face was a mask of sorrow, unable to bear looking at Yang Fan any longer.

"Is he the son of Yang Tian?" a soft, inquisitive voice broke the silence—it was Xu, the mysterious scholar from Kyoto.

"Indeed," Yang Hong replied, his tone filled with regret. "He is the son of Yang Tian. In fact, his talent surpasses his father's. At just eighteen, he reached the Spirit Condensation stage. But alas... this genius has now fallen to a tragic fate." The pain in his voice was palpable. After all, Yang Fan had been their pride, nurtured with endless care by the second generation.

"You… are the so-called number one genius of the Nanling Yang Clan?" 

Yang Yu, still standing on the arena platform, looked down at the white-haired youth with disbelief.

A sneer echoed from the crowd below as Li Pang, a corpulent youth, let out a derisive laugh. "Hah! 'Number one genius'? More like the number one waste of the clan! Yang Yu, if you're looking for a match, perhaps you should pick someone else."

Yang Lei, Yang Fan's younger brother, bristled with anger. "Li Pang, you're asking for death!" He was ready to attack, but Yang Fan stopped him.

Yet from that day forth, Yang Fan's title as "the first waste" of the Yang family was cemented.

"Enough, Fu Gui! Hold your tongue!" Yang Hong's stern voice cut through the jeering, silencing Li Pang at once. Despite his arrogance, Li Pang knew better than to defy the family head.

Yang Yu, standing with unshaken pride upon the platform, spread his arms wide. "What a pity. I traveled all the way from Kyoto only to find that the renowned Nanling Yang Clan has no one worthy to challenge me. It seems I have wasted my time."

"You're shameless!" Yang Lei retorted with a bitter laugh. "You challenge my brother when his cultivation has just been lost! Why didn't you show up before this, when he was at full strength?"

Yang Yu faltered for a moment, his face hardening. "I am only sixteen! I came here now to attend the 'Wen Tian Assembly.' How could I have come sooner?"

"Spare me your excuses," Yang Lei sneered. "It's clear you came to flaunt your superiority, to lord over the Nanling Yang Clan."

Yang Yu, his patience wearing thin, glanced across the assembled crowd. "I see no genius here—only a broken man. The so-called 'number one talent' is nowhere to be found. If anyone dares, come and face me!" His words were a challenge to all.

From the crowd, the gathered youths could hold back no longer. Insults flew from every corner:

"Shameless!"

"Despicable!"

"Coward!"

"Taking advantage of a man at his weakest!"

Yang Yu's face darkened as his sharp gaze swept across the crowd, finally settling on Yang Fan and Yang Lei. "You two brothers can come at me together. I'll take you both on."

Laughter rippled through the crowd. "How amusing! Why not take on the whole clan, if you're so confident?"

Before the tension could escalate further, Xu, the scholar from Kyoto, interjected with calm authority. "Yu'er, enough. Perhaps there is a more suitable way. Since the Nanling Yang Clan's greatest talent has encountered such a misfortune, why not grant them three years? Allow them to cultivate a worthy opponent. In three years' time, return to challenge them again. Yang Hong, what do you say?"

Yang Hong, forced to suppress his fury, quickly agreed, a smile breaking through his tension. "Yes, yes, Mr. Xu speaks wisely. We encountered a bit of an accident this time, and the young master is understandably disappointed. Three years hence, the Yang Clan will produce a worthy challenger for you."

Internally, Yang Hong swore to himself: No matter the cost, in these three years, the Nanling Yang Clan *would* cultivate a Spirit Condensation disciple. The clan could not bear this disgrace.

"Very well. Three years it is," Yang Yu agreed, his gaze hard and cold as it fell on Yang Fan and Yang Lei. "I'll return then, and the two of you can face me together. Let's see if you can even scratch me."

"Who's afraid of whom?" Yang Lei snapped, his teeth clenched.

Yang Fan smiled faintly, saying nothing. His silence seemed to seal the pact.

With the tension temporarily diffused, the Wen Tian Assembly resumed its proceedings in a more orderly manner.

"Now that this little distraction is over, let us continue," the family head's younger brother, Yang Gang, announced. "As is tradition, the one who performed best in the last Assembly will take the stage first."

Yang Gang, a man in his forties with mid-level Spirit Condensation cultivation, paused for a brief moment. "Let's welcome… Yang Guang." He caught himself before mistakenly saying "Yang Fan."

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, expecting to see a trace of disappointment in Yang Fan's expression. But to their surprise, his face remained calm, a serene smile playing on his lips. There was no sign of despair, no hint of sorrow.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in Yang Fan's mind, stern and commanding: "What are you still doing here? Stop humiliating yourself and leave!" It was the family head, Yang Hong, using a mental transmission to expel him.

Yang Fan froze for a moment, then turned to glance at Yang Hong. The realization hit him—he was no longer welcome.

With a rueful smile, Yang Fan nodded slightly and began to walk away. 

"Who would have thought..." he murmured softly, casting a final glance at the elders and family members who had once cherished him. 

He had expected to be shunned, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the family head would personally dismiss him.

"Brother, why are you leaving so suddenly?" Yang Lei called after him, confused.

Yang Fan smiled warmly at his younger brother. "Stay here and enjoy the assembly. As for me, what use is there for a cripple at such a gathering? I miss Mother and our little sister. I'll head home for now."

Yang Lei watched his brother's white hair flutter in the wind as he walked away, feeling a deep ache in his heart. A single tear fell from his eye.

What he didn't know, however, was that the fall of a genius was merely the beginning of a new chapter...