Li Shan pushed open the ancient wooden door, engraved with spiritual protection talismans. A faint sound echoed, like the whispering wind in old temples.
Before him stretched the Great Dining Hall, one of the oldest wings in the Ling Clan's estate, lined with red sandalwood corridors from which spiritual lanterns dangled, emitting a pale blue light. Their glow cast soft shadows on the walls, as if the ancestors themselves were silently watching over their descendants.
At the center of the hall stood the royal table, filled with dozens of dishes carefully prepared by the sect's inner chefs—ranging from Dragon Core Soup, Emerald Spiritual Rice, to slices of roasted Golden Turtle meat. The food was more than just nourishment; it enhanced "Qi" and opened spiritual meridians for those in the Foundation or Transformation realms.
Seated around the table were the clan's strongest heirs. First was the eldest son, Ling Chen, sitting with one leg crossed over the other in a confident posture. His dark blue hair was tied with a silver thread adorned with Sea Spirit Gems, and his charming smile concealed the sharp wit and cunning of a battlefield commander.
His body, sculpted from years of harsh training, seemed carved from the black mountain stone.
To his right sat the second son, Ling Hao, his features calm like a winter dawn's lake. Slender, with slightly pale skin and pitch-black hair resembling that of "Ling Bai," the body now inhabited by "Li Shan." He held an ancient scroll covered in complex Daoist runes, flipping through it in quiet concentration. Known for his intellectual prowess, he could analyze spiritual talismans in mere moments.
Across from them sat the fourth son, Ling Zhu, a boy no older than ten, yet his eyes held the gaze of a mountain cutter.
Dressed in black silk embroidered with the military school's emblems, he sat upright as if born in a training ground, gripping a piece of meat like it was a miniature spear.
And beside them… the empty seat. A cushion embroidered with the clan's symbol rested upon it: a dragon coiled around a flaming spear.
This seat had always been reserved for "Ling Bai," the third son, who had changed after surviving the Cursed Spirit Valley... something within him had shifted—no one understood it yet, but he had grown quieter, deeper.
Before anyone could speak, a solemn voice echoed from the head of the hall:
"You're late, Ling Bai."
It was Marquis Ling Mo, Ling Bai's father, one of the pillars of the Wei Nation. A man over fifty, yet his presence still intimidated even the imperial court's commanders.
He wore a light armor made of Fire Salamander hide, and a deep scar ran from his eye to his chin—an eternal tale of his battle with the "Three-Headed Hell Lion" on the Flame Kingdom's borders.
Li Shan smiled gently, scratching his head like a boy guilty of a small mistake, then said:
"Apologies, Father... This morning's meditation pulled me deep into my spirit, and I lost track of time."
Ling Chen laughed and said:
"Brother Bai, be careful you don't end up like our dear Hao... lost in books and forgetting the world."
Li Shan chuckled softly in return:
"Oh come on... you know Hao's busy preparing for the Royal Academy exams—he doesn't even have time to sleep."
Ling Hao lifted his head with a faint smile and replied:
"You're not wrong. The academy doesn't want mere students... but true prodigies—those who can draw a Dao Circle during meditation, not ones who take a decade to grasp a single principle."
Ling Zhu burst out laughing and exclaimed:
"Studying is boring! I won't end up like you, Hao—I'll become a general like Father! And I'll inherit his red spear!"
Laughter filled the hall, and Ling Mo smiled before saying:
"Enough joking, my sons. Let us begin our breakfast… your mother went with Ling Yue to your grandfather's palace, and won't return until noon."
Ling Yue... the name made Li Shan's heart tremble for a moment.
That girl who bore within her the Ice Phoenix Body—a rare celestial physique that appears only once every ten thousand years. She was the heroine of the coming tale, destined to ignite wars and end them, to rise above the heavens of sects and awaken purity in a fractured Dao world.
Li Shan sat in his seat, watching the family… their laughter, their moments, the unspoken love between them. He hadn't known this feeling in centuries. He had lived thousands of years in the loneliness of the immortals—wandering mountain passes, battling demons, seeking absolute truth… yet now, in this warm hall, his heart beat again.
"I won't destroy the Dao of Immortality until I ensure this family's safety… My heart may be empty, but… this body deserves protection. Ling Bai… your sacrifice won't be in vain."
He quietly finished his meal. Just as he was about to rise, his father's voice came again—different this time, like the calm before a storm:
"My son… I want to speak with you… alone."
Li Shan turned, meeting the deep gaze of his father, then said:
"Of course, Father."
Let me know if you'd like this in a more poetic, novel-style English tone—or if you'd like to continue the next scene!