Chapter 14: Shadows Over the Xiao Family

Chapter 14: Shadows Over the Xiao Family

In the inner chamber of the Xiao Family's ancestral hall, a heavy silence loomed. This was the core of the Xiao Family—the seat of power where crucial matters were decided. At the center of the room stood a long, ancient wooden table. Though time had seemingly brushed past it, not a single crack, rot, or blemish marred its surface. Its dark sheen gleamed under the dim lantern light, exuding a subtle spiritual glow.

This was no ordinary table—it was crafted from Spirit Wood, harvested from spiritual trees that absorbed the Heaven and Earth's spiritual iQ over centuries. Such trees were treasures of the world, rare and sacred, revered by cultivators and kings alike. Their very essence preserved the wood for eternity, ensuring it stood as an eternal witness to countless generations of decisions and blood oaths.

Seated around the table were eight figures, each exuding a powerful presence, their auras—though restrained—undeniably vast, every one of them above the mid-stage of the Martial Grandmaster Realm. But today, their strength did little to lift the oppressive atmosphere. The weight of the Xiao Family's legacy and their looming crisis pressed heavily upon every shoulder.

At the head of the table sat Xiao Hao, the Patriarch of the Xiao Family and father to Xiao Chen. His eyes were cold, his face carved from stone, betraying no hint of emotion.

To his right sat the Great Elder, Xiao Jian—his towering frame seemingly larger even while seated. His long silver hair and flowing beard framed a stern face, every wrinkle a testament to the burdens carried for the family's survival. His gaze was as sharp as a blade honed by decades of scheming and sacrifice.

Beside him was the Guardian Elder, Xiao Feng, his black and white streaked hair tied tightly behind his head. His hawk-like eyes gleamed with a perpetual sharpness, and a deep scowl creased his weathered features. His every movement radiated vigilance, his posture rigid as a drawn bow.

On Xiao Hao's left sat the Young Elder, Xiao Mei—her youthful features adorned with intricate jewelry, each piece delicately crafted with precious gems. "Her dark blue hair cascaded down her back in soft, silky waves, secured with an exquisite hairpin. The delicate features of her face were accentuated by her piercing blue gaze, and her long lashes fluttered gently as she blinked, like butterfly wings dancing in the breeze as she sipped on her teacup with measured elegance. But beneath her composed exterior, her eyes glinted with hidden ambition—like a wolf veiled beneath silk.

The three Reference Elders filled the remaining seats.

The First Elder, an aged man with a drooping eyelid and a perpetually lazy expression, barely hid his disdain for the matter at hand. He resembled a tired lion forced back into the hunt, the fire of his prime now reduced to smoldering embers.

The Second Elder, a gaunt old woman named Madam Xiao Ru, possessed thin lips and a hawk-like nose. Her sharp gaze was unsettling, and she spoke little—but her words, when unleashed, cut deeper than any blade.

The Third Elder, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and calculating eyes, kept his long, greying beard perfectly groomed. His fingers moved constantly over jade beads, counting silently—as though he weighed the family's fate like numbers on an abacus.

The final seat belonged to Xiao Yang, the Patriarch's younger brother and father of Xiao Han. Dressed in a muted blue robe, his long black hair framed a calm, collected face. But a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, betraying an inner amusement. His deep-set eyes gleamed darkly—like a man savoring the taste of imminent change.

The air grew heavier by the second.

Suddenly, Elder Xiao Feng slammed his palm against the Spirit Wood table, the sharp crack resounding like a thunderclap. "Patriarch!" he growled, his eyes ablaze. "It is now clear—the people are talking! The entire Clear Water City is laughing at us. Our name… our honor will be dragged through the mud!"

Xiao Jian sighed heavily, his voice hoarse with age yet steady as a mountain. "I hate to say it… but the truth is bitter. We must act, or risk becoming nothing more than the city's laughingstock."

The words hung in the air like a guillotine poised above their necks.

Then came Xiao Yang's calm voice—smooth as still water but carrying an undercurrent of veiled malice. "And let's not forget… the Lao Family." The smirk on his face deepened ever so slightly. "They've been locked in a silent struggle with us for years. With this disgrace… they will seize the chance to push us into the dirt."

As his words settled, a suffocating silence consumed the room.

No one dared speak, but the unspoken truth was undeniable—the Lao Family had long been a thorn in their side. Their ambitions, once laughable, had grown wings the day their daughter, Luo Ning'er, married into the royal family—becoming a concubine of the Second Prince of Lingshui Country.

That union shifted the scales. Royal favor now flowed toward the Lao Family like an endless stream. Their influence surged, and the once-dominant Xiao Family found its foundation cracking under the weight of newfound competition.

The First Elder, his patience threadbare, suddenly erupted. "It's all because of that Xiao Chen!" he bellowed, slamming his trembling fist against the table. "That useless brat brought shame upon us! Now we must face the aftermath!"

The accusation echoed through the hall. For a moment, all eyes darted toward the silent figure of the Patriarch.

Xiao Hao's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white as teeth ground together—rage and sorrow battling within. He had remained silent, but his heart was ablaze. He was the Patriarch—the pillar of the Xiao Family. Yet even he could not shield his son from the tide of disdain crashing upon their name.

Yet, amidst the rage, his eyes betrayed something else… hesitation. Pain. Despite everything… Xiao Chen was still his blood, his only son.

A cold wind seemed to sweep through the chamber as Xiao Hao finally spoke, his voice low and heavy. "Enough," he growled. "I've heard enough…"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across every face at the table. "Do you think I don't know the consequences? Do you think I've not considered what this means for our family… for our legacy?"

His voice rose, shaking with barely contained fury. "But before we move against our own blood… we must understand the whole truth. What happened at the ceremony… what truly happened to Xiao Chen… must be uncovered."

The room grew still. Xiao Hao's words carried the weight of a man torn between duty and family—between the pride of the clan and the love of a father.

And in that moment, for the first time, a sliver of doubt crept into the eyes of the elders.

Had they… acted too hastily?

"Nonsense!" The First Elder snapped, his voice hoarse yet brimming with authority. His lazy expression contorted into a grimace, veins throbbing faintly along his temple. "A leader must not act according to emotions, Patriarch Hao! You see the truth laid bare before you, yet you refuse to act!" His aged fingers trembled as they pointed at Xiao Hao.

"I've known you since you were but a boy—back when you had nothing but your fists and stubborn pride. You were always stoic… always decisive. Where is that boy now?!" His voice thundered across the silent chamber. "Don't let emotions cloud your judgment. Not now. Not when the fate of the family hangs by a thread!"

As his words died down, an oppressive silence consumed the hall. Even the flickering lantern light seemed to dim, shadows growing long across the Spirit Wood table.

It was the Third Elder who broke the silence, a wry smile curling his lips as he gently stroked his long, graying beard. "Then tell us… what is it that you suggest, First Elder?"

All eyes turned.

The First Elder took a deep breath, the weight of his decision reflecting in his cloudy, aged eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" he finally growled. "Xiao Chen must be expelled. Stripped of his name. Cast out from this family… completely. Only by cutting him off—severing all blood ties—can we erase this shame and protect what's left of our legacy."

The words fell like a blade upon the table.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then… a smirk tugged at the corner of Xiao Yang's lips, while Elder Xiao Feng let out a low chuckle of approval, his sharp gaze gleaming with silent agreement.

However—

"What?!" Patriarch Xiao Hao's voice exploded, echoing through the chamber like a roaring thunderclap. He shot to his feet, slamming his palm against the Spirit Wood table with such force that a wave of spiritual energy rippled out.

"You… dare?" His chest heaved as he stared down the First Elder, fury swirling in his dark eyes. "You suggest I watch as my own flesh and blood… my son… is cast out like some stray dog?! Have you lost your mind?!"

The hall tensed, but it was Elder Xiao Jian who rose next, his face dark as iron. "First Elder, don't be reckless!" he snapped. "As the Great Elder of this family, I demand a fair hearing. The council will decide Xiao Chen's fate! Not you… not even the Patriarch alone. This is our law."

Xiao Jian's voice was cold, carrying the weight of centuries of family tradition.

The First Elder scowled but said nothing, retreating into silence, though the stubborn gleam in his eye never faded.

A moment passed before another voice—soft, elegant—broke the tension.

"You all seem quick to forget," came the gentle voice of Elder Xiao Mei, her slender fingers tracing the rim of her teacup absentmindedly. Her eyes, though calm, carried a sharp glint beneath long lashes. "The glory Xiao Chen once brought us… Are you all truly so blinded by today's disgrace that you would cast aside the pride of yesterday?"

Her words were like the soft plucking of zither strings—serene, but lingering, pulling at the heart.

She continued, her tone steady. "He was once the greatest prodigy this city had ever seen. Reaching the Martial Core Realm at just fourteen… awakening the Yin-Yang Elemental Affinity—a rare and top-grade affinity at that. No other youth in Clear Water City has ever reached such heights."

The room fell silent again, many elders lowering their gazes, unable to argue with the truth of her words.

"Hmph… what Elder Mei says is not wrong," the Third Elder finally muttered, still stroking his beard, his eyes clouded with nostalgia. "But… the Xiao Family has always survived by looking forward, not back. That is our way."

His voice was calm, laced with a heavy sense of history. "We do not dwell on the past. Our Founder left five hundred years ago, yet we endure. Even as we fell… and rose… and fell again, we stood firm because we focused on the future, on what must be done, no matter how painful."

The Third Elder exhaled deeply, staring up at the ancient beams above. "That is how… the Xiao Family remained the number one family in Clear Water City. Even under pressure from the Lao Family… even when the royal court cast greedy eyes upon us… we persevered."

Everyone nodded slowly, lost in their own memories of the family's long, grueling history—of battles fought, alliances broken, and blood spilled in the pursuit of pride and survival.

The hall grew heavy, every elder deep in their own thoughts.