In the main hall, Wei Zhan and the three clan elders conversed excitedly with the visiting elder. The guest, however, seemed to have something weighing on his mind. Each time he appeared ready to broach the true subject of his visit, he would hesitate, swallow his words, and change the topic. And each time he did, the delicate girl at his side would fix him with a subtle yet firm glance. After listening for some time, Wei Lang grew bored of their meandering conversation, and his head began to droop. “Brother Wei Lang, do you know who they are?” Just as he was about to nod off, Ruolan, who sat beside him, looked up from her ancient book and asked softly. “Do you?” Wei Lang glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. “Have you seen the symbol on their cuffs?” Ruolan asked with a faint smile. “A silver sword wreathed in clouds?” “Oh?” Wei Lang’s gaze shifted to the guests’ robes. Sure enough, embroidered on their cuffs was the distinct, shimmering sigil of a sword among the clouds. “They’re from the Faction of Misty Clouds?” Wei Lang asked, bewildered. Though he had never ventured far into the world, he had read about this faction in books. The Wei Clan resided in Wu Tan City, a major city within the Da Lang Empire, but even its size was dwarfed by the vastness of the empire, despite resting at the foot of the Demonic Beast Mountain Range. Within Wu Tan City, the Wei Clan was the preeminent power. Two other major clans competed with them, but even after twenty-four years of blood and strife, neither had managed to usurp the Wei Clan’s position. If the Wei Clan was the strongest power in Wu Tan City, then the Faction of Misty Clouds was the strongest in the entire Da Lang Empire. The gulf between them was enormous, so vast that Wei Lang’s father, Wei Zhan—a man who normally wore a stern and unyielding expression—was now acting exceptionally respectful toward these guests. “Why are they here?” Wei Lang whispered. Ruolan’s slender fingers stilled on the page. “I think it might have something to do with you, Brother Wei Lang.” “Me? I have no connection to them,” Wei Lang whispered back, pausing for a moment before shaking his head in denial. “Do you know that girl’s name?” Ruolan glanced toward their young guest. “No. Do you?” Wei Lang furrowed his brow, studying her face. He was certain he had never seen her before. “She’s Nalan Yanran,” Ruolan said, a curious expression on her face. Wei Lang stiffened. “Nalan Yanran? The granddaughter of Nalan Jie, the Divine Might Commander of the Da Lang Empire? She’s… my fiancée? The one arranged before I was even born?” “Hehe, yes. Your grandfather and Nalan Jie were like blood brothers. You and Nalan Yanran were born around the same time, so they decided to betroth you. But three years after you were born, your grandfather was killed in a battle with a rival clan. As time passed, the relationship between the Wei Clan and the Nalan family grew distant.” Ruolan paused, seeing that Wei Lang was hanging on her every word. “Nalan Jie is not only a proud man, but also one who values his promises above all else. Since he was the one who arranged the marriage, he has never considered annulling it, even with the damage to your reputation these past few years.” “The old man is certainly stubborn,” Wei Lang managed a small smile. “Nalan Jie has the final say in his family, and though he dotes on his granddaughter, no one has dared to openly oppose the marriage.” Ruolan’s beautiful eyes flickered toward Wei Lang before she continued, “But five years ago, Nalan Yanran was accepted as a student by the leader of the Faction of Misty Clouds. In that time, she has displayed incredible talent. When someone gains enough power to change their own destiny, they will fight to alter the things they dislike about their life. And unfortunately, she despises this arranged marriage to you.” “You’re saying… she came here to cancel the engagement?” Wei Lang’s face darkened. A wave of fury washed over him, not because this girl didn’t want him, but because she intended to do this here, in front of the entire clan. If the engagement were broken now, his father would lose all dignity and respect. He took a slow, deep breath, the cold air doing little to calm the inferno in his mind. Hidden within his sleeve, his hand curled into a tight fist. If I were a Dou Shi, he thought, who would dare trample on my dignity like this? It was true. If Wei Lang were a Dou Shi, not even Nalan Yanran, with the backing of the Faction of Misty Clouds, would dare to act so brazenly. A fifteen-year-old Dou Shi was a prodigy of such rarity that only a handful had ever existed in the history of the Dou Qi Mainland. Those few who reached that level at such a young age had all gone on to become titans who shaped the world. A small, delicate hand slipped past his sleeve and gently took his clenched fist. Ruolan spoke softly, “Brother Wei Lang, if she truly cancels the marriage, it will be her loss. I believe that in a few years, she will come to regret the decision she makes today.” “Regret?” Wei Lang sneered. “With my current abilities, I don’t have that kind of luxury.” He paused, his tone shifting. “Wait, Ruolan. How do you know so much about them? My father might not even be aware of some of the things you’ve just told me. How do you know all this?” Ruolan stiffened, but said nothing. Seeing her avoid the question, Wei Lang could only offer a helpless smile. Though Ruolan was a member of the Wei family, she shared no blood relation with him. He had never met her parents, and whenever he asked his father about them, Wei Zhan would just shake his head and refuse to speak. Over time, the subject of Ruolan’s parents became taboo, a topic the elders seemed to fear. To Wei Lang, Ruolan’s identity had always been veiled in mystery. No matter how hard or how cleverly he pried, she would always fall silent. “Fine. If you don’t want to say, then don’t.” Shaking his head, Wei Lang’s expression darkened once more. Across the hall, prompted by yet another insistent signal from Nalan Yanran, the guest elder finally rose to his feet. Using the Faction of Misty Clouds to pressure my father? This Nalan Yanran has some shameless nerve, Wei Lang thought, as fury began to build in his heart once more.

Chapter 4: A Sword Among Clouds