He gritted his teeth. He wanted to move, to twist his body, but somehow, he couldn't. His body wouldn't respond fast enough. The wooden sword was already closing in on his neck, and he knew it. He couldn't stop it.
Even as the sting of defeat loomed, his eyes burned with unwillingness and raw determination.
But in the end, he failed to turn away in time and fell to the ground.
"STOP!" the judge's shout rang out, marking the end of the final match, Yuan had lost.
The wooden sword that hovered at his neck belonged to a twelve year old youth, one of the oldest participants in the entire competition. And now, the undisputed winner.
Yuan's eyes blazed with frustration as he stared up at the victor. He stood, his face rigid with anger, and walked stiffly back to his seat.
Old Man Longwei Feng was already waiting, ready to console him.
"Little Yuan, don't worry about not winning this time," the old man said gently. "You're still young. You just can't match the size and strength of a twelve year old yet. But next time, next time, I'm certain you'll win."
He ruffled Yuan's hair with a proud grin. "You should be proud. Second place is no small feat. You're the first one in years from our family to even reach the semifinals, let alone the finals! You've already surpassed every expectation, including mine."
Longwei Feng went on, speaking words of comfort and encouragement, but Yuan didn't respond. His expression was locked in a quiet fury, like a child who had tasted bitter defeat for the first time.
Even the main family's elders and children offered their praise, saying he had brought no shame to the Loose Long Family.
But Yuan remained silent, lips tight, his jaw clenched. He occasionally clicked his tongue in frustration, still seething inside.
Although everyone thought Yuan was angry about losing the final match, they couldn't have been more wrong.
Everything that happened in the finals had gone exactly as he had planned, from the way he would lose to how he should react afterward. Every detail had been carefully thought through. Seeing that everything was coming to its place alone made Yuan feel quite pleased with himself.
Still wearing the mask of frustration, Yuan kept up his act of seething anger. After expressing the proper gratitude and politeness toward the Martial Cloud Sect, the Loose Long Family eventually departed.
After a day of quiet travel, they returned to the Longwei Management Pavilion.
Yuan was the first to step out of the carriage. Without waiting, he quickly made his way toward the entrance. But Old Man Longwei Feng called out to stop him.
"Little Yuan, where are you rushing off to in such a hurry? Don't you want to rest?"
Hearing this, Yuan looked over his shoulder, clearly annoyed. "I'm going into secluded cultivation. Don't bother me. I want to focus on my cultivation," he said flatly.
Without waiting for a reply, Yuan turned back and disappeared inside the pavilion.
Watching his small figure vanish down the hall, the old man sighed and shook his head. "Children these days… so full of energy and so stubborn."
Still, he hoped Yuan would take at least a few days to rest and calm down. But since the day Yuan had returned to the pavilion, he hadn't left his room even once. He ate only fasting pills and spent all his time buried in cultivation.
Now, a full week had passed since Yuan's loss in the finals. To the outside world, it seemed he was trying to bury his disappointment through relentless training.
But today, Old Man Longwei Feng had other plans.
He stood in front of Yuan's door, a small, knowing smile forming on his aged face. Then he gently knocked.
"Little Yuan, come out. I want to show you something!" the old man called, knocking gently.
He waited a few moments before the door finally creaked open. Yuan stepped out. He looked slightly disheveled, still wearing the same clothes from the day of the competition.
A faint odor clung to him, he hadn't taken a single bath in the past week.
Seeing Yuan's dedication and stubbornness, Old Man Longwei Feng almost sighed aloud but held it back. Instead, he offered the boy a warm smile.
"Come, follow me. We're going up the mountain. There's a small gift waiting for you!"
At first, Yuan's eyes were full of annoyance, he had no desire to leave his cultivation behind. But slowly, his gaze shifted. Curiosity replaced irritation, and his tense expression began to relax.
The old man's smile widened into something brighter. He was genuinely pleased that Yuan could finally think about something else besides training. Without further delay, they left the pavilion and began their walk from the mountain's base toward its middle region.
The path led to a remote area, seemingly untouched by civilization. Small animals scurried through the underbrush, and trees rose thickly on both sides of the trail.
Then, quietly nestled among the foliage, stood a small house.
It was modest, perhaps three or four rooms in total. Nothing grand, no elaborate carvings or luxurious signs of wealth.
But the moment they neared it, something changed.
The spiritual essence in the air grew noticeably denser, much more than what Yuan had cultivated in back at the pavilion.
Any cultivator who had awakened their Sight Sense could easily tell how rich the spiritual energy was here. Yuan's eyes lit up with surprise and growing excitement.
He stared at the house, visibly intrigued and hopeful.
Old Man Longwei Feng caught the expression and smiled knowingly.
"Do you see this small house?" he asked.
Yuan snapped out of his awed trance and turned toward the old man, shaking his head.
"No, Old Man Feng… what is this place?"
"Hehe," the old man chuckled, his voice full of warmth and happiness. "This, little Yuan… this is your new home."
"New home? What? How? Why?" Yuan asked, his eyes filled with confusion.
The old man was more than happy to clear it up.
"Hehe. When we returned from the tournament, your prize for earning second place was delivered. The first place reward was a few pills that help advance one's cultivation toward the Blood Purification Stage. As for the second place reward, it came in two parts."
He paused slightly, giving Yuan time to take in the information before continuing.
"The first part is a set of pills to help awaken at least one sense. That alone is a valuable gift, especially for someone your age. The second part, however, is only granted if the winner is not a member of their sect's, clan's, or family's main bloodline. In those cases, all top ten non main line disciples are granted the status and treatment equal to that of a direct descendant."
Yuan's eyes flickered with understanding.
"And since you're already recognized as a Supreme Commander candidate," the old man added with pride, "your position is slightly higher. You're now officially treated as the direct son of an elder that will succeed the elder position."
He let that settle in, watching Yuan carefully to make sure there were no misunderstandings.
"With that, I now have the right to treat you as if you were my own son. And I've chosen to give you privileges that even most Commander ranked juniors don't have. Normally, you'd have the authority of a Commander and the treatment of a Prince. But this, this small house, is something that shouldn't even be granted to them."
He turned to the small home once more.
"From now on, this place is yours. A place to cultivate in peace."
"Wow…" Yuan whispered, stunned. His eyes widened in disbelief before excitement surged through him. He clenched his fists tightly, and after a long breath, he stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Thank you, old man, no… thank you, Grandpa! Little Yuan will never forget this!"
The old man stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden shift in how Yuan addressed him. He hadn't expected that.
He looked at Yuan, his eyes trembling slightly, until a single tear rolled down his weathered cheek.
The old man quickly turned away, pretending not to notice the tear that had fallen from his eye. With a wave of his sleeve, he spoke gently.
"Go on now. Take a look at your new home, get familiar with it."
"Yes, Grandpa," Yuan replied, his voice carrying warmth and energy. With that, he turned and stepped into the small wooden house.
As the door closed behind Yuan, the old man remained outside for a moment, staring at the spot where the boy had just stood.
Then, quietly, his smile deepened, and tears welled in his eyes once again, this time, without restraint.
"Qing Mei… maybe staying in this world really was the right choice," he whispered.
He exhaled slowly and wiped the tears from his face, regaining his composure.
"So old… and yet I still cry like this," he murmured with a soft chuckle. "How long has it been since I last shed tears?"
Shaking his head, the old man chuckled bitterly at himself.
"How embarrassing…"
By the time his eyes returned to normal, the sadness had faded, replaced by a quiet joy. He looked toward the little house, now Yuan's home, and smiled once more.
"I hope my final days will be filled with moments like this."