While Feng Lin was heading toward the city.

  The sun had just risen, casting a soft golden light over the Zhao clan. The morning seemed peaceful, too peaceful, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds breaking the silence. In a small room at the back of the main residence, Zhou Han was hunched over a pile of documents, his full concentration absorbed in the task.

  Li Mei sat nearby, flipping through a scroll and noting information on another sheet. They had been assigned a bookkeeping task for the day, a job of little importance but necessary for the clan. The morning routine was nothing unusual, yet Zhou Han felt a strange sensation, a premonition he couldn’t shake.

  "Zhou Han, you don’t look well. You seem worried," said Li Mei without lifting her eyes from her work, her voice soft and calm. She always had that ability to read his emotions without him having to say anything.

  Zhou Han looked up, a slight smile on his lips.

  "It’s nothing. Maybe just fatigue. It’s rare for everything to be this quiet in the clan."

  Li Mei smiled, her eyes finally meeting his.

  "You know that’s a good thing. It means everything is fine, right?"

  Zhou Han nodded, but his gaze drifted again, his mind troubled by an unease he couldn’t explain. He had never had this kind of premonition before, but today, something felt profoundly wrong. Yet, he tried to ignore these thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.

  They worked in silence for several minutes. The sounds of the city outside seemed so distant, almost unreal. Then, a strange noise was heard, a faint crackling in the air, like a sudden gust of wind. But it lasted only a few seconds, and everything seemed to return to normal. Zhou Han was about to resume his work when the ground suddenly trembled beneath his feet.

  The walls of the room vibrated, a deep rumbling sound, like a distant but menacing growl, echoed through the building. Zhou Han jumped to his feet, his heart pounding.

  "Li Mei!" he shouted, but his voice was lost in the explosion that tore through the air. A violent shockwave shook the room, sending shards of wood and stone flying in all directions. Li Mei, who had still been sitting nearby, was thrown against the wall with unimaginable force.

  Zhou Han rushed toward her, but before he could even reach her body, another blast shook the ground and the entire building. He collapsed to his knees, his ears ringing, unable to believe what had just happened.

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  "Li Mei! No!" he screamed, but there was no response. His eyes fell on her, lying motionless on the floor, her lifeless body crushed under the debris. A massive piece of the wall had fallen on her in the explosion, silencing her forever.

  Zhou Han felt his world collapse around him. The sounds of destruction and screams of agony echoed outside, but it all seemed like a distant echo, as if reality itself had become blurred. He crawled toward Li Mei’s body, trembling, tears welling up in his eyes.

  "Why? Why now?" he murmured, a dull pain tearing through his chest. But there was no answer, only the chaos unfolding around him.

  He had no time to grieve, as another tremor shook the room, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps outside. Screams of panic mixed with the sounds of battle and explosions, and Zhou Han realized that this was no accident. The Zhao clan was under attack. There was no doubt.

  In the distance, amid the turmoil, armed figures emerged—attackers disguised as soldiers from who knew where. The clan gates had been breached, and everything was falling apart.

  In this moment of total despair, Zhou Han closed his eyes for a moment, clinging to the one thought that still kept him going: he had to escape. He couldn’t stay here, helpless, unable to protect those he loved.

  He stood up abruptly, his mind focused on survival, searching for a way out. But before leaving, he leaned over Li Mei one last time.

  "I couldn’t save you," he murmured, a final farewell to the person who had mattered most to him.

  He let his tears fall, then turned toward the door, ready to flee for his life. The attack on the Zhao clan had begun.

  Zhou Han navigated through the smoking ruins of the Zhao clan. The sound of explosions still echoed in the air, the cries of pain and panic filling every corner of the domain. But it all felt distant to him, almost like a calm sea he no longer belonged to. After all, Li Mei was dead. Everything he had known until now had crumbled in an instant. The devastating attack left behind only ruins and blood.

  His gaze landed on a figure on the ground, half-crushed under debris. A body—the body of a venerable elder of the clan—lay there, one of the most powerful cultivators the Zhao clan had possessed. Zhou Han had never been close to him, but he had observed his movements, and at this moment, none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was what this venerable elder left behind, something others might not have noticed or understood.

  He approached the corpse, his heart pounding. He had learned to be wary of everything, to seize opportunities when they arose. This venerable elder, in his final moments, still wore his spatial ring—a precious artifact of immeasurable value. The clan's venerable elders often possessed items of great worth, but their power was also their weakness. Zhou Han knew that, in this situation, the chance to find such an artifact was not something to be taken lightly.

  He knelt beside the lifeless body, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being watched. The battle raged on around him, but in this corner, time seemed frozen, as if even the universe itself held its breath.

  With extreme caution, he slid his fingers under the elder’s arm, searching for the ring. The skin, still warm but already deteriorating, cracked slightly under the pressure. Finally, his finger brushed against a small, simple yet sturdy artifact. He carefully pulled it from the elder’s finger and examined it for a moment. The ring gleamed faintly, hiding its true power behind its ordinary appearance.

  Zhou Han’s heart raced. This ring was a symbol of wealth and power, a key that would allow him to escape this war and destruction. The resources inside could give him a chance to flee, to survive. He knew that within this ring lay everything he needed to leave this place, far from the Zhao clan’s rules and oppressive hierarchy.

  Zhou Han stood up, gripping the ring tightly. There was no turning back. He had observed this elder for years, noting his weaknesses, his habits. Today, in death, that same elder was offering him freedom.

  "I am no longer a servant," Zhou Han thought as he looked around, his mind filled with cold, calculating thoughts.

  "The Zhao clan has given me everything it could. But today, I take what is rightfully mine."

  He slipped the spatial ring into his pocket and turned away, determined. He knew the chaos would destroy the clan. He had nothing left to lose. The time to flee had come.