I Can Create Clones

The morning sun streamed through the modest windows of the Drake-Starfall estate, casting warm light across the breakfast table where Anthony and Aurora had arranged a small but heartfelt celebration. Despite their family's recent struggles—or perhaps because of them—they were determined to make Ethan's twelfth birthday memorable.

"Happy birthday, my dear boy," Aurora said softly, placing a carefully wrapped package beside Ethan's plate. Her eyes were bright with the kind of love that transcended material circumstances, though traces of worry still lingered in her expression.

Ethan looked up from his morning tea with the appropriate mixture of sleepy surprise and childhood delight. "You didn't need to—"

"Of course we did," Anthony interrupted, his voice carrying more warmth than it had in months. "Twelve years old deserves proper recognition, regardless of... other circumstances."

The package contained a set of cultivation manuals—not rare or expensive, but carefully chosen for someone supposedly beginning their spiritual journey despite his "lack of talent." Ethan accepted them with genuine appreciation, though his enhanced perception immediately identified them as basic-level texts he'd long since surpassed.

"Thank you," he said, his voice carrying exactly the right note of grateful emotion. "These will be very helpful."

As the family shared their quiet breakfast, none of them mentioned the elephant in the room—that this birthday celebration was taking place under the protection of a mysterious Peak Ascendant cultivator whose motives remained unclear, in a house that had become the center of unprecedented political attention.

...

By mid-morning, the first of the politically motivated birthday gifts began arriving. Edrin announced each delivery with barely concealed excitement, his arms soon laden with packages bearing the seals of various branch families.

"From the Riverside-Drake family," he announced, presenting an ornately carved wooden box. "Rare spirit stones from their mountain territories."

Ethan opened it to find a collection of low-grade cultivation aids that would have been valuable to any normal twelve-year-old beginning their spiritual journey. The gift was generous enough to seem thoughtful while subtle enough to avoid appearing like obvious bribery.

"And from the Ironwood-Drakes," Edrin continued, producing a larger package. "A complete set of training weapons, sized for growing cultivators."

Aurora frowned slightly at the implications. "Rather presumptuous gifts for a child who supposedly lacks cultivation talent."

Anthony's expression was more calculating. "They're hedging their bets. If Lysander's alliance proves lasting, they want Ethan to remember their generosity. If it doesn't, the gifts are modest enough to avoid offense."

More packages arrived throughout the morning—cultivation pills from the Thornfield family, meditation scrolls from the Millhouse clan, even a decorative sword from the Goldweave branch that was clearly more ceremonial than functional. Each gift walked the careful line between respect and assumption, acknowledging Ethan's new status while not overcommitting to his potential.

"It's remarkable," Aurora observed as they surveyed the growing collection of presents. "Yesterday, these same families could barely acknowledge his existence. Today, they're sending birthday gifts as if he were heir to a major lineage."

"Association with power changes everything," Anthony replied, though his voice carried undertones of concern. "The question is whether these gestures represent genuine goodwill or calculated positioning."

...

Lysander arrived at midday, bearing his own gift with the easy confidence of someone whose presence had become central to the family's fortunes. His transformed features showed appropriate warmth as he approached the birthday celebration, though his amber eyes held depths of knowledge that no one suspected.

"Young Master Ethan," he said formally, presenting a wrapped package with genuine courtesy. "I hope your twelfth year brings growth and discovery."

Inside was a meditation crystal of remarkable clarity—not the most expensive gift he could have afforded, but perfectly chosen for someone supposedly beginning their cultivation journey. The crystal would actually be useful for advanced practitioners, though it appeared appropriately modest for a "talentless" child.

"Thank you, Master Lysander," Ethan replied with carefully controlled enthusiasm. "This is very thoughtful."

As the family continued their celebration, Lysander positioned himself where he could observe both the festivities and the estate's approaches. His enhanced senses detected multiple spiritual signatures in the surrounding area—scouts and observers from various families, all monitoring the situation with varying degrees of subtlety.

During a quiet moment while Anthony and Aurora were examining the various gifts, Lysander found an opportunity for discrete communication. Moving close enough for private conversation while maintaining the appearance of casual interaction, he spoke in tones only Ethan's enhanced hearing could catch.

"The intelligence network has detected increased activity from the main family," he murmured, ostensibly admiring the meditation crystal. "Elder-level spiritual signatures moving in coordinated patterns. The investigation is accelerating."

Ethan's response was equally subtle, his words disguised as enthusiastic thanks for the gift. "Expected timeline for direct contact?"

"Within days, possibly hours. The familiar signature has achieved its purpose—curiosity has become compulsion."

"Preparations?"

"Complete and ready for implementation. The target will find exactly what he expects to find, and exactly what we want him to discover."

Their exchange lasted mere seconds and would have appeared to any observer as simple gift-giving courtesy between a grateful child and his family's benefactor. Yet in those few words, they confirmed that the trap was set and the prey was approaching.

...

The afternoon brought an unexpected development that tested everyone's composure. A formal messenger arrived bearing the seal of the main family—not the emergency summons they had feared, but an official birthday recognition that carried its own weight of implication.

"By order of the family council," the messenger announced, his voice carrying the authority of official business, "the main family extends formal acknowledgment of Ethan Drake's twelfth birthday and wishes for his continued health and prosperity."

The message was accompanied by a gift that was both generous and carefully calculated—a set of family histories and genealogical texts that emphasized the Starfall branch's legitimate place within the Drake lineage. It was a gesture that acknowledged their elevated status while subtly reminding everyone of the proper hierarchy.

Anthony accepted the gift with appropriate gratitude, though his businessman's instincts recognized the underlying message: We see you, we acknowledge your new position, and we expect you to remember your place within the larger family structure.

"The main family's attention on a branch heir's birthday," Aurora murmured once the messenger had departed. "When did such things become worthy of official notice?"

"When that heir became associated with Peak Ascendant protection," Lysander replied smoothly. "Power draws attention, even—or especially—when it appears in unexpected places."

...

As evening approached and the formal celebration wound down, the estate took on a different atmosphere. The birthday gifts were carefully arranged, the family had shared stories and laughter, and to all external appearances, it had been a successful and heartwarming celebration of a young boy's special day.

But beneath the surface, currents of tension ran deep. Lysander's discrete intelligence reports painted a picture of increasing main family activity. Scout networks were expanding their surveillance. Elder-level cultivators were being repositioned. Most significantly, there were signs that someone of Supreme Elder rank was personally taking interest in the situation.

"The pressure is building," Lysander observed during the final cleanup, his voice pitched for Ethan's enhanced hearing. "Multiple sources confirm that tomorrow will bring direct contact. The trap is about to spring."

Ethan nodded slightly, his childlike features masking the cold calculation in his mind. His twelfth birthday had served its purpose perfectly—a layer of innocent normalcy that would make the coming events all the more devastating for their target.

As the family prepared for sleep, none of them spoke of the tension hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Anthony and Aurora retired with expressions of cautious satisfaction, grateful for a day of celebration despite their ongoing uncertainty. The servants cleaned up the birthday festivities with unusual care, as if trying to preserve the moment of happiness.

And in his modest bedroom, surrounded by gifts from families who had ignored him just days before, Ethan Drake—mastermind, transmigrator, and architect of schemes that would reshape the cultivation world—prepared for sleep with the satisfied knowledge that every piece was exactly where he wanted it.

Tomorrow would bring Marcus, drawn by suspicions he couldn't resist investigating. Tomorrow would bring the confrontation that had been carefully orchestrated through months of planning and misdirection. Tomorrow would bring the first true test of the deadly organization he was building in the shadows.

But tonight was still his twelfth birthday, and for just a few hours, he allowed himself to be genuinely grateful for the family who loved him unconditionally and the power that would let him protect them from anything the world might threaten.

The innocent child and the strategic mastermind coexisted in perfect balance, waiting for dawn to reveal which face the world would see next.