“Hmph! Enough, Zhao Hucheng! Bringing him here today was your biggest mistake. No one will spare him!”
Fu Lanjun’s voice was icy, like a queen looking down from her throne.
Zhao Hucheng’s vision darkened, and he collapsed backward. Wei Fang and Zhao Qianru hurriedly caught him.
“A curse! That boy is a walking disaster! It’s all my fault—I thought I could cozy up to the Jiang family, but I ended up losing more than I gained!”
Zhao Hucheng was furious, desperate, and drowning in regret. Tears streamed down his face as he beat his chest in frustration, nearly losing his mind on the spot.
Just then, Tang Jianfeng checked his phone and exclaimed excitedly:
“My father says Master Jiang has arrived! The ceremony is about to begin!”
“Let’s go! Hurry! Finally, we’ll get to see the legendary Master Jiang!”
“This is Master Jiang we’re talking about!”
Hearts raced, excitement surged, and the crowd buzzed as people urged each other forward, rushing toward the venue.
Behind the Wolong Villa lay the Tang Family Ancestral Hall—a sacred, forbidden ground. Normally, it only opened during the annual Spring Festival ancestral rites. But today, the grand apprenticeship ceremony was being held there, a testament to how highly the Tang family revered Master Jiang—almost like an ancestor.
The ceremony was lavish beyond measure, a spectacle of unprecedented grandeur.
The ancestral hall had been meticulously renovated—freshly trimmed lawns, transplanted trees, red carpets lining the path, and crimson lanterns hanging high.
The banquet in the side rooms was prepared by renowned chefs from Linzhou, serving exquisite dishes.
The wines were either rare aged vintages or imported luxury reds flown in from abroad.
“Master! Forgive my tardiness—I didn’t realize you and your wife had already arrived!”
As Jiang Tian entered the hall, Tang Guozhu hurried forward, bowing deeply with clasped hands, his demeanor humble and respectful.
“No matter. I was just catching up with some young friends outside.” Jiang Tian returned the gesture, his expression calm and relaxed.
“Master Jiang! Madam Jiang!”
“Master Jiang! Madam Jiang!”
Powerful figures from across the region—Ye Gufeng of Donghai, Xue Mingyi of Jiangzhou, Long Wu and Zheng Guangsha of Linzhou—all rose and bowed, their respect palpable.
“Tang Hongtu, at your service, Master Jiang, Madam Jiang!”
Even Tang Hongtu, the eldest Tang son, had rushed back from the military base. In full uniform, his rank of senior colonel visible on his epaulets, he led his brothers in greeting Jiang Tian with reverence—as if standing before a deity.
A military man himself, Tang Hongtu understood the terrifying power of a Hua Jin Grandmaster.
This young man might seem unremarkable, but in the future, he could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of Ye Zhan Tian!
With one hand holding Zhao Xueqing’s, Jiang Tian walked alongside Tang Guozhu into the ancestral hall. The crowd swarmed around them, exchanging pleasantries and eager to engage.
The Tang Family Ancestral Hall was magnificent—adorned in silver and gold, radiating grandeur.
At the center stood a grand altar bearing the memorial tablets of generations of Tang ancestors, numbering over a hundred.
Over centuries, the Tang family had produced three imperial scholars, two generals, five prefects, and—since the founding of the republic—dozens of influential officials, including provincial governors. Their deep-rooted legacy was undeniable.
Today’s ceremony was a dazzling display of their prestige.
Yellow banners draped the hall, layered and overlapping. Antique bronze censers held towering incense sticks, and half-height red candles burned, casting a solemn, sacred glow.
Tang Weimin signaled the steward: “The ceremony is about to begin. Escort the guests to their seats.”
“Yes!” The steward immediately relayed the announcement.
The crowd, having waited outside, surged into the ancestral hall.
The sight left them awestruck.
So this is why the Tang family is so formidable—it’s not luck, but centuries of accumulated influence.
From ancient times to the present, the Tangs had produced exceptional talents, a true martial and scholarly lineage. Every dynasty had seen a Tang rise to prominence.
“The Tang family… truly impressive.”
“Who knew the Ming Dynasty martial arts master Tang Shijie was their ancestor?”
“Look here—Tang Shunzhi, a high-ranking Qing official!”
The wealthy elites gaped at the portraits of Tang ancestors lining the walls, humbled by the family’s illustrious history.
It also underscored how seriously the Tangs took today’s event—opening their ancestral hall to the public was no small gesture.
The murmurs gradually died down as the solemn atmosphere commanded silence.
At the master of ceremonies’ announcement, Tang Guozhu and his three sons stepped forward, standing solemnly before the ancestral tablets.
Led by the elder Tang, each held three incense sticks, bowed three times, and offered prayers before placing the incense in the censers.
“Friends, I thank you all for traveling far to witness this occasion.”
After the offering, Tang Guozhu turned to the crowd and declared:
“Today, Master Jiang has graciously agreed to accept Tang Linglong as his disciple. This is her good fortune, the Tang family’s honor, and the blessing of our ancestors!”
The hall fell dead silent.
The weight of Tang Guozhu’s words stunned everyone.
He’s elevating Master Jiang to the heavens!
Calling it Tang Linglong’s fortune was expected. Calling it the Tang family’s honor was already high praise. But to say it was the ancestors’ blessing? That was treating Master Jiang like a god.
“What kind of power does Master Jiang really possess?”
“How can he command such reverence from the Tangs?”
Whispers spread, disbelief lingering in the air.
Among the crowd, Fu Lanjun nervously eyed the two chairs reserved for Master Jiang beneath the ancestral altar.
Earlier, Tang Guozhu had told her she must kneel before Master Jiang and earn his approval to truly enter the Tang family.
Her heart pounded, fists clenched, rehearsing how to bow properly.
If the Tang family is this intimidating, how much more so Master Jiang, whom they worship?
Such reclusive masters were often eccentric, their actions unpredictable. If he took a dislike to her, her dreams of marrying into the Tang family would be over.
“Miss Tang, please offer incense to the ancestors.”
With Tang Guozhu and his sons stepping aside, the master of ceremonies prompted Tang Linglong.
Today, she wore a traditional martial arts uniform, a sash cinching her slender waist, her posture upright and dignified.
Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, her face free of makeup, radiating a sharp, heroic aura.
Holding three incense sticks, she bowed three times before the ancestral tablets, then placed them in the censer.
Watching this, Tang Jianfeng burned with envy and frustration.
Had I known, I’d have stayed in Linzhou instead of joining the military. Our special forces unit has no grandmaster instructors.
If I’d stuck around, currying favor with Master Jiang, maybe I could’ve become his disciple too!
As Tang Linglong stepped back, the master of ceremonies suddenly raised his voice:
“All rise for Master Jiang!”
The hall plunged into silence.
Eyes darted eagerly, anticipation thick in the air.
Many had heard of Master Jiang but never seen him. Today, the legend would finally step into the light.
Most imagined a wizened elder—either an immortal-like sage or a stern, imposing figure.
But reality defied expectations.
A young man in a white T-shirt and casual pants emerged from the crowd and strode toward the brocade-draped chair.
“Holy—Jiang Tian’s lost his mind again!” Lu Changfeng blurted.
“Why hasn’t Zhao Hucheng dragged him away yet? Another disaster!” Liu Tianle wiped sweat from his brow.
“He’s gone mad in the Tang ancestral hall! How’s he getting out of this one? Will they beat him to death?”
Chu Yuwei’s mouth hung open, equal parts shock and schadenfreude.
“He’s done for.”
Du Tao shook his head, though his eyes gleamed with malice. “Third Master Long Wu is here. With his temper, Jiang Tian’s in for a world of pain.”
“What do we do? This is chaos! Where’s Zhao Xueqing? Can’t she control him?” Fu Lanjun wrung her hands in panic.
“Jiang Tian! Get back here!”
“What are you doing?!”
Zhao Hucheng and Wei Fang lunged forward, only to be blocked by security. They slumped in despair, on the verge of collapse.
“Jiang Tian! Stop this madness! Get out!”
Tang Jianfeng roared, pointing accusingly.
He regretted not crippling Jiang Tian earlier and tossing him out. A lunatic mocking the Tang family’s grand ceremony? The humiliation was unbearable.
The crowd’s reactions varied—some watched with detached amusement, others sneered, a few panicked, and many seethed, wishing they could tear the disruptor apart.
Under countless stares, Jiang Tian lazily reached the chair, turned, and sat down with one leg crossed over the other, utterly at ease.
“Dear heavens! The Zhao family is finished!”
Zhao Hucheng’s legs gave out. He collapsed, tears streaming, consumed by despair.
“That boy’s doomed us all!” Wei Fang was numb with dread.
Tang Jianfeng charged, grabbing for Jiang Tian’s collar. “You little—get out!”
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Tang Wannian sprang forward like a launched firework and slapped his son hard across the face. “How dare you disrespect Master Jiang!”
The blow left Tang Jianfeng’s ears ringing, blood trickling from his lip.
Clutching his cheek, he stammered, “Dad… what? Why did you hit me?”
“Did Third Master Tang just say… Master Jiang?”
“Who is Master Jiang?”
The crowd froze in disbelief.
Even Tang Guozhu ignored his grandson, letting guards drag him away. Instead, he hurried to Jiang Tian and bowed deeply.
“Master Jiang, please forgive this minor disruption.”
“What the—?”
“Jiang Tian is Master Jiang? Impossible!”
Gasps erupted. The crowd was thunderstruck, as if seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
