The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

"Father, are we really going to leave the family?"

Inside the carriage, Xia Changsheng sat beside her mother, looking across at Xia Shangwen with a face full of worry and reluctance.

Although she was only a mortal, she was well aware of the escalating internal conflicts within the family since the patriarch's death, as well as the predatory gazes of the other three families and six clans and the deliberate suppression from the royal court.

But she couldn't accept it.

Once, her family was a source of pride. Now, watching it teeter on the brink of collapse, she was overwhelmed by an unbearable sense of helplessness.

It was especially painful to see the uncles and siblings she once shared close bonds with now embroiled in internal strife. The feeling was like a heavy stone pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Sigh… it's fate, Changsheng. All we can hope for is that someday we'll find a way to reclaim what we've lost," Xia Shangwen said bitterly, lifting the curtain to take one last look at the family he had known for decades.

"I just don't know if we'll ever have the chance to return, or if the Xia family will ever rise to its former glory."

"Wen Ruoli of the Qishan Wen family greets Uncle Shangwen!"

As the carriage neared the city gates, it suddenly stopped. Outside, a cold voice rang out.

Xia Changsheng and her mother both paled and clung to each other in fear.

The Qishan Wen family—one of the other three families and six clans.

"So, the three families and six clans have acted this quickly?"

Xia Shangwen furrowed his brows, his heart heavy.

After calming his daughter and wife, he slowly stepped out of the carriage and onto the street.

The Xia family guards accompanying him, along with three Xia family cultivators, immediately stepped forward, glaring coldly at Wen Ruoli—the Wen family's spiritual root talent—standing opposite them.

"Ruoli, my dear nephew, I trust you've been well," Xia Shangwen said with a clasped hand.

"May I ask where Uncle Shangwen is taking his wife, daughter, and so many family members?" Wen Ruoli asked with a faint smile.

Behind him stood more than ten rogue cultivators affiliated with the Wen family, their cultivation levels ranging from the Fifth to Sixth Stage of Fetal Breathing.

"To avoid the conflict, I'm leading my people to find a peaceful place to live out the rest of our days," Xia Shangwen replied.

"Ruoli, my dear nephew, might I trouble you to let us pass?"

"I'm afraid I can't, Uncle Shangwen," Wen Ruoli said, shaking his head.

"I've been ordered by the family elders to guard this area and prevent any Xia family members from leaving the city."

"Wen Ruoli, your mother was a direct descendant of the Xia family. Though she's passed on, half your blood still comes from our Xia family. Can't you grant us a path to survival?" Xia Shangwen asked calmly, his gaze steady.

He hoped Wen Ruoli would show mercy for the sake of his late mother and allow the remaining Xia family members to escape, preserving a thread of their bloodline.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Shangwen. I can't disobey the elders' orders," Wen Ruoli said with a sigh.

"But out of respect for my late mother, I won't make the first move. You can end this yourselves."

"Is there truly no room for negotiation?" Xia Shangwen asked, his fists clenched tightly as he stared at Wen Ruoli.

"None at all. I'm sorry."

"Shangwen, why waste your breath? That boy is heartless. Even with Xia family blood running through his veins, he's never shown us an ounce of regard!"

"That's right! If we're going to be forced to take our own lives, I'd rather die fighting for the family!"

Behind Xia Shangwen, three Xia family cultivators stepped forward, their faces filled with indignation.

Before Xia Shangwen could stop them, they rushed toward Wen Ruoli, attacking decisively.

"Hmph! Ignorant fools!"

As the three Xia family cultivators charged, Wen Ruoli snorted coldly.

The rogue cultivators under the Wen family's banner immediately stepped forward to intercept them, and a fierce battle erupted.

Blinding flashes of light from mystical techniques filled the air, and waves of energy surged outward, scattering in all directions.

The townspeople waiting in long lines at the city gates to evacuate were terrified as they watched the battle unfold.

Chaos erupted among the crowd as people feared being caught in the crossfire of the "immortals."

Fortunately, the battle didn't last long.

The three Xia family cultivators, lacking both strength and numbers, were no match for the Wen family's rogue cultivators.

In just over a dozen exchanges, the heads of the three Xia family cultivators were severed and sent flying by the Wen family's men.

"Uncle Shangwen, will you choose to end your own life, or shall we do it for you? The choice is yours," Wen Ruoli said coldly.

"This time… I, Xia Shangwen, admit defeat."

Staring at the gruesome sight of his fallen comrades, Xia Shangwen's eyes welled with bloodied tears. With a bitter smile, he exuded a sorrowful, desolate air.

Slowly, he drew the sword from his waist and pressed it against his neck, gazing indifferently at Wen Ruoli.

"The Wen family will one day face the same fate as my Xia family. Ruoli, my dear nephew, I will be waiting for you—and the rest of the Wen family—on the other side."

With those final words—

Swish!

The blade flashed, and Xia Shangwen decisively severed his own head. His lifeless body collapsed heavily into a pool of blood.

"Father!"

"Shangwen!"

From within the carriage, Xia Changsheng and her mother saw Xia Shangwen forced to take his own life by Wen Ruoli and his men. They rushed out in anguish.

Seeing Xia Shangwen's headless body lying in blood, the mother and daughter felt their world shatter. They threw themselves onto his corpse, wailing in despair.

"Kill them all," Wen Ruoli ordered coldly, unmoved by their grief.

The rogue cultivators under the Wen family's command pounced like hungry wolves.

One by one, the Xia family's mortals, hoping to escape and find peace, were mercilessly slaughtered. Their bodies fell in droves, staining the street red with blood.

In mere moments, dozens of Xia family members who had followed Xia Shangwen, hoping to leave the city, lay dead.

The stench of blood filled the air, permeating the streets.

In the end, even Xia Changsheng and her mother, unable to bear the torment, issued their final, venomous curses before taking up swords and ending their own lives.

Around the city gates, many townspeople who had lined up to evacuate witnessed the scene of carnage. They trembled with fear, their hearts pounding as the brutality of the "immortals" etched itself into their memories.

No one had been spared—not pregnant women, infants in swaddling clothes, nor frail elders who could barely move.

"Isn't the Qishan Wen family's cruelty excessive?"

In the tavern, a rogue cultivator sipping wine by the window furrowed his brow at the horrific scene on the street.

"Excessive? The struggles between clans have seen far worse—cruelty a hundred or even a thousand times worse than this. You just haven't witnessed it yet," someone retorted.

"In the world of cultivation, it's a constant battle of take or be taken. Who can claim their hands are free of blood?"

"Even so, as cultivators, shouldn't we uphold at least some baseline of decency?" the first cultivator argued.

"Haha! A baseline? Don't make me laugh. Human nature is like that of beasts—who truly upholds any so-called baseline? Do you think everyone in the world is a saint?"

"Weren't you, Mu Sanren, the one who once killed your own brother with your own hands? And now you want to act all righteous about maintaining some baseline? Spare me!"

"Say that again, I dare you!"

"What if I do? Do you want a fight? My hands are itching for a good match!"

Tension flared among the rogue cultivators in the tavern, as their arguments nearly led to blows.

Among them, a disguised Yun Wenxuan silently watched the scene on the street, his brow deeply furrowed.

"The Xia family… they're so pitiful," he murmured.

"Wenxuan, kindness is important, but don't be overly kind to outsiders," Yun Yantian said, standing beside him.

"The Tongshan Xia family, once one of the three great families and seven prominent clans, rose by trampling over others' corpses.

"Their current plight is simply karma."

"That said, the Qishan Wen family's merciless slaughter of defenseless women, children, and the elderly is truly excessive," Yun Yantian added.

"Uncle Yantian, I understand," Yun Wenxuan nodded, though a trace of hesitation lingered in his voice.

"But…"

"But what?"

"I'm scared," Yun Wenxuan admitted.

"Scared?"

"I'm scared for my parents, my grandfather, and our family…"

Having witnessed the savage conflict between the cultivator clans for the first time, Yun Wenxuan couldn't hide his fear.

Watching the Xia family, led by Xia Shangwen, fall victim to Wen Ruoli's brutal slaughter, he couldn't help but worry that one day, his own family might face the same fate.

"That's why we must work even harder on our cultivation," Yun Yantian said gently.

"Only by becoming stronger can our family have the strength to protect its people.

"If you aren't strong, all that awaits you is humiliation, suppression, and slaughter at the hands of others."