Chapter 14: Shadows Over the Xiao Family
Chapter 14: Shadows Over the Xiao Family
The Xiao Family’s ancestral hall was cloaked in silence—an ancient, sacred chamber where generations of legacies were forged, oaths were taken, and family law was carved into eternity.
At the center stood a long, ancient wooden table—flawless and untouched by time. No cracks marred its surface, no rot sullied its glow. It shimmered under the flickering lantern light with a dark, glossy sheen, exuding a faint spiritual radiance.
This was no ordinary table.
It was forged from Spirit Wood, harvested from spiritual trees that had absorbed the essence of Heaven and Earth for centuries. Revered by kings and protected by spirit beasts, such wood was rarer than gold or jade. Its presence alone was enough to demand reverence—it had witnessed centuries of oaths, betrayals, and decisions that shaped the very fate of the Xiao Family.
Seated around it were eight figures, each radiating immense presence despite their restrained auras—every one of them a powerhouse beyond the mid-stage of the Martial Grandmaster Realm.
Yet today, even with all that strength gathered, the weight in the room was not one of power—but of looming crisis.
---
At the head of the table sat Xiao Hao, Patriarch of the Xiao Family and father to Xiao Chen. His chiseled face was emotionless, sculpted from cold stone. His sharp eyes reflected only shadow, not sentiment.
To his right sat Great Elder Xiao Jian, his towering frame seemingly larger even while seated. Long silver hair flowed down his shoulders like a waterfall of age and wisdom, and his beard framed a stern face etched with decades of sacrifice. His gaze was sharp—like a sword honed on a whetstone of war and duty.
Beside him was Guardian Elder Xiao Feng, his black-and-white hair tied tightly behind his head. His hawk-like eyes were ever-watchful, his posture rigid like a drawn bow ready to strike. Even seated, one could sense the aura of a beast hidden beneath layers of discipline.
On Xiao Hao’s left sat Young Elder Xiao Mei. Her beauty was as ethereal as it was deceptive—dark blue hair cascading like silk, pinned with an intricately crafted spiritual hairpin. Her jewelry sparkled like stardust, her fingers wrapped elegantly around a teacup she sipped with practiced grace. But her eyes—piercing blue—glinted with ambition. Like a predator veiled in silk, she waited.
The remaining seats belonged to the Three Reference Elders.
The First Elder, an aged man with drooping eyelids and a perpetually lazy expression, resembled a lion long past its prime. He sat slouched, fingers tapping the table as if eager for the meeting to end—yet his narrowed eyes revealed more than apathy.
The Second Elder, Madam Xiao Ru, was a gaunt woman with hawk-like features. She sat in dignified silence, lips thin and face unreadable—but those who knew her feared her tongue more than any blade. When she spoke, her words left scars.
The Third Elder, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and greying beard, looked more like a scholar than a warrior. Yet his calculating gaze, and fingers ceaselessly sliding over jade counting beads, marked him as the most pragmatic of all—measuring every moment like a merchant weighing silver on a scale.
The last seat belonged to Xiao Yang, the Patriarch’s younger brother and father of Xiao Han. Dressed in muted blue, his composed face was unremarkable—yet the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed something deeper. His dark eyes gleamed with anticipation… as if he were savoring the moment.
The air grew heavier.
Then—
Bang!
Elder Xiao Feng slammed his palm onto the Spirit Wood table. The crack of impact echoed like thunder through the ancient chamber.
> “Patriarch!” he snarled, eyes ablaze. “The people are talking. The entire Clear Water City is mocking us. Our name… our honor is being dragged through the mud!”
Great Elder Xiao Jian sighed, his voice hoarse yet heavy with steel.
> “I hate to say it… but the truth is bitter. We must act. If we remain idle, we risk becoming nothing more than a relic—laughed at, pitied… or worse.”
Their words hung in the air like swords drawn and aimed at the family’s throat.
Then came Xiao Yang’s voice—soft, composed… venom hidden beneath calm waters.
> “Let’s not forget… the Lao Family.”
He leaned forward, eyes glinting.
> “They’ve been waiting for this. A single misstep from us, and they’ll seize it like wolves pouncing on blood. With this disgrace hanging over our heads, they’ll bury us—just like they’ve always wanted.”
A deep chill swept through 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!”
---
Silence fell once more.
All eyes turned to the Patriarch.
Xiao Hao sat still—fists clenched white, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. Emotions raged within, a silent storm of duty, pride, pain… and love.
He was the Patriarch. The guardian of the family.
But he was also a father.
> “Enough.” Xiao Hao’s voice was low, yet it echoed through the chamber like distant thunder. “I’ve heard enough…”
His gaze swept the room like a blade.
> “You think I don’t know the consequences? You think I haven’t thought of what this means for our name? For our legacy?”
His voice rose, cracking with restrained fury.
> “But before we cast aside our own blood… we must uncover the truth. What truly happened during the Martial Spirit Awakening Ceremony?”
The elders stilled. For the first time… doubt crept into their eyes.
Had they rushed to judgment?
> “Nonsense!” the First Elder barked, his face twisted in disbelief. “You see the truth laid bare before you, Patriarch Hao! Yet you hesitate? You… who once stood fearless before kings?! Where is that man now?!”
The elder’s voice thundered like a whip.
> “A leader must not be ruled by emotion! Not when the fate of the family hangs by a thread!”
The shadows deepened.
And then—
> “Then tell us…” came the smooth voice of the Third Elder. “What do you suggest, First Elder?”
All eyes shifted.
The First Elder inhaled deeply, his old eyes heavy with grim resolve.
> “We must cast him out,” he said, his voice as cold as winter steel. “Xiao Chen must be expelled. Stripped of his name. Cut off from the bloodline. That is the only way to erase this shame… and protect the legacy.”
His words fell like a blade.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—
> “WHAT?!”
Xiao Hao’s voice exploded like thunder.
He surged to his feet, his palm slamming the table with such force that a shockwave rippled across the Spirit Wood surface.
> “You… DARE?! Suggest I cast out my own flesh and blood?! Have you lost your senses?!”
Spiritual pressure surged.
Even seasoned elders stiffened.
But it was Xiao Jian who rose next, calm but firm.
> “First Elder, enough! This is not your decision alone. The council will decide. Not you… not even the Patriarch alone. That is the law.”
His words anchored the storm.
Silence returned.
Then came a voice—soft, delicate, yet piercing like the whisper of a blade.
> “You all forget so quickly…”
Xiao Mei spoke at last, fingers gently tracing her teacup. Her voice was calm, graceful—but sharp beneath its elegance.
> “Xiao Chen was once our pride. The youngest Martial Core Realm cultivator in Clear Water City at just fourteen years old. With Top grade Yin-Yang Elemental Affinity. A prodigy unlike any we’ve seen in generations.”
She looked up, her blue eyes gleaming.
> “Have we become so desperate that we cast aside our own stars the moment they dim?”
Shame flickered in the elders’ eyes.
The Third Elder sighed, stroking his beard.
> “What Elder Mei says is true… but the Xiao Family has always endured by looking forward. Not backward. Painful as it is… sometimes the blade must fall.”
He looked toward the ancient beams above.
> “We have outlived wars, betrayal, and the disappearance of our Founder. We stand not because we hold onto the past… but because we do what must be done.”
Murmurs of agreement echoed.
Yet beneath them all, a storm churned.
The Xiao Family was at a crossroads.
Would they cast aside their blood to preserve their name?
Or uncover the truth… and risk the unknown?
Outside, the wind howled across the mountain peak—carrying whispers of fate.
The shadows had gathered.
And the Xiao Family would never be the same again.