When Hun Yu heard his cultivation being mentioned as crippled, a flash of cold light passed through his eyes.
He clearly remembered—it was the Hua Qiangu and the Huayu Tower that had crippled him. And at that time, when he took the blame for his Senior Sisters and was crippled in their place, those few people only cowered in the background, not a single one of them spoke up for him.
Even the entire Heavenly Profound Sect, including Sect Master Zhou Yashi and all the elders, bowed and scraped. Zhou Yashi didn’t even say a single word in his defense—she directly pushed him out instead.
Back then, when the beloved disciple of Huayu Tower was crippled, they had come to kill Hun Yu, the scapegoat, and flatten the Heavenly Profound Sect. But just as they were about to kill Hun Yu, a mysterious force repelled them. Unwilling to give up, they attacked again in anger, only to be met with the same result.
In the end, wary and fearful, they settled for crippling Hun Yu and left, holding their grudge.
Thinking back now, he had truly been beyond foolish—devoting everything to the sect, treating Mu Qingwan and the others as the dearest people in his life, only to become the lowest, most pitiful one in the end—someone everyone could humiliate and trample on.
And now, hearing Elder Qin say that his name had already been inscribed on the Heaven Soul Stele, and that he had automatically entered the competition for the position of Young Clan Lord, made his brows furrow.
In his previous life, although he never entered the Hun Clan and died in a hurry, he still knew something about the infighting among great clans.
Such conflicts between heirs often led to bloodshed between siblings—far more brutal and vicious than the clashes between ordinary cultivators. And the more powerful the clan, the more frequent such battles were.
In his current state, he didn’t even qualify as cannon fodder, let alone a participant. If he really returned to the clan now, it would be no different from throwing a lamb into a tiger’s den—he’d be torn to pieces instantly.
But then he heard the words that followed and immediately grew alert. He asked, “Unless what?”
Elder Qin shook his head helplessly and said, “Although it’s impossible, since you asked, I’ll tell you.”
“Your bloodline is very strong. Just the faint trace sensed by the Soul-Seeking Stele was enough for the Heaven Soul Stele to recognize you. The Hun Clan has always believed you must be of the main bloodline. And once it involves the direct bloodline, things become more complicated. Only those with even purer bloodlines, higher status, and greater identity are allowed to make a move against you. Even if others have powerful cultivation, they cannot kill you.”
“So, unless you’re the child of one of the direct-line decision makers, no one would dare lay a hand on you. But the problem is, none of the direct-line decision makers have admitted to having descendants out in the world. The only one who hasn’t responded is the Clan Lord. But he has already reached the Spiritual Transformation Realm, has never married, and for tens of thousands of years has never left the Soul Realm. So it’s even more unlikely he would’ve fathered a child.”
Hun Yu turned to look at him and asked, “So you’re saying I am indeed a member of the Hun Clan, and definitely a direct descendant. With the strength of my bloodline, I must be the child of one of the decision makers—but none of them are acknowledging me? No one is admitting they’re related to me?”
Elder Qin looked a little embarrassed, wiped some sweat, and said awkwardly, “That… does seem to be the case!”
Hun Yu was dumbfounded for a moment and didn’t know what to say. Internally, he cursed, “Damn you—what the hell is this? You know exactly what you did, don’t you? You tossed me into some backwater region, let me be a simp for decades or even centuries, and in the end, I simped myself to death. I’m not even mad about that, since it led to my rebirth. But now you don’t even have the guts to admit I’m your child? What kind of cowardly decision maker is that? Even if I return to the clan, I doubt you’d dare show your face to protect me. Screw this!”
“Why go back at all? In my last life, I died regretting not using this Soul Spirit Jade. I thought in this life I could rely on it to soar to the peak… but this? This is worse than my previous life!”
Elder Qin was just as helpless. Other protectors had long been assigned their chosen heirs. As those heirs climbed in cultivation and rose through the clan ranks, their protectors naturally shared in the elevation of status and prestige.
The Hun Clan had a strict hierarchy—outer disciples, elite disciples, core disciples. Above them were the Heir Candidates (Tianzi), and beyond them, the Saint Sons—figures who could already participate in high-level family decision-making, enjoying elite privileges and reverence throughout the clan.
Even higher were the Divine Sons. In the Hun Clan, which had existed for tens of thousands of years, there had never been more than five of them. Each Divine Son was a taboo figure within the clan, their status above most elders, and their authority far greater.
The Divine Sons weren’t promoted through rank. They were born into it—their overwhelming bloodline strength and heaven-defying talent determined everything. If one lineage produced a Divine Son, the entire branch’s status would rise drastically, even from near-obscurity to the very center of clan power.
And above that—there was the legendary “Emperor’s Son,” whose status could rival the Clan Lord, and whose position was unshakable.
Elder Qin had been selected as a protector but had never been deployed—until Hun Yu shook the Heaven Soul Stele. Only then was he finally chosen.
Back then, he had been full of pride and confidence. After all, anyone who could awaken both the Soul-Seeking Stele and the Heaven Soul Stele with just a trace of aura had to be, at the very least, an Heir Candidate. If things went well, and his charge became a Saint Son, he, as the protector, would rise to the Saint tier—a dream come true.
But who would’ve thought, after traveling countless kilometers across the vast Celestial Continent to this barren northwest region, he’d find Hun Yu… completely broken.
Cultivation crippled. No talent. Damaged foundation. A pitiful fool, bewitched by a few women, utterly spineless and disgraceful. He had no drive, no strength, and was a complete failure—utterly unworthy of being molded.
Elder Qin had resigned himself to fate. In the Hun Clan, a protector could only choose one heir. This was his only shot at climbing higher—and now it seemed ruined.
But now that Hun Yu had used the Soul Spirit Jade, it meant Elder Qin’s role as protector had officially begun. Even if his charge was a cripple, he could only follow through to the end.
The Soul Spirit Jade granted by the Heaven Soul Stele—its attributes were final. No one could change them.