The Sheng Clan had always stood above all, not through brute force or cunning schemes, but through honor. To the Martial World, their name was synonymous with unwavering principle.
“Have you heard? Sheng Clan patriarch has yet another expedition returning.”31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR2NhbLmemu
“They say the daughter of the patriarch is unmatched… more powerful than her own father!”31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7C2wcY4Ub1
“Indeed. The Nine-Petal Saintess herself walks among mortals. Their honor truly is eternal.”
In the secluded peaks of the Sanctuary of Nine Petals, sunlight spilled over the sacred springs and meditation chambers. The air shimmered with qi, a gentle hum of healing power flowing through the terraces. Within the main hall, the Clan Patriarch, Sheng Zhenwei, the core saint of the clan with nine petals, paced with pride, waiting for the return of his daughter.
“Father, the expedition was successful,” a messenger bowed.
Moments later, Sheng Linyue entered, her robes slightly worn from travel, yet her aura radiated unparalleled power. But there was something unusual—her belly protruded beneath her robes. The patriarch froze, his eyes widening.
“What… what is this?” he whispered, a chill running down his spine.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXV7ChWtZ9a
“Honor… has it… ended?”
The elders gathered silently, their faces masks of disapproval and concern. One of the senior saints muttered under his breath:
“She carries a child… and yet she is our pride. How… can this be?”
When the child was born, the revelation struck the clan like a thunderbolt. A single, faint petal appeared on the infant’s forehead. One. One petal.
The patriarch’s hands trembled as he held the infant.
“You… you are a disappointment, Linyue. And this child… a disgrace to the Sheng Clan!”
His words cut through the hall like a blade. Without hesitation, he separated mother and child. The newborn was named Sheng Hánxu, the first “waste” in a thousand generations of the Sheng Clan.
Even as the elders laughed nervously at the irony, a shadow of despair clouded the patriarch’s heart.
Yet that same day, another son was born to the Sheng family. Strong cries echoed through the halls, and this newborn bore seven petals on his forehead—a mark of immense potential. The patriarch’s eyes softened slightly as he accepted the boy into the clan’s fold.
“Seven petals… finally, one worthy of honor,” he murmured.
Outside, the sky shivered with portent. Four celestial signs appeared: a dragon, a phoenix, a sword adorned with petals, and a mark of destruction. Whispers rippled through the elders:
“The sword with petals… it must be him. The seven-petal grandson.”31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcowk4QeDK2
“The heavens themselves have decreed it,” another said, awe in his voice.
And so, on the same day, two fates were written into the annals of the Sheng Clan—one destined for ridicule and scorn, the other for honor and reverence. The child born with one petal would grow under the weight of shame… yet the heavens rarely move without purpose.
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