The Qian clan collapsed and fractured overnight. When word reached Liu Quan and the heads of the Wang and Sun clans that Qian Yuanqing had hanged himself before his ancestral tablets, they fell into a long, heavy silence.

Decades ago, the fathers of their respective houses had fled to Li Family Village as desperate refugees. Harboring dark intent, they had colluded with other vagrants to massacre the entire Li clan, seizing their lands to establish their own roots and legacies. The corpses of the Li family had been carelessly flung into a massive pit in the mountains, a place that reeked of rotting flesh to this day.

Back then, the four clans had been bound by blood and oath. The men of this current generation were of similar age, naturally growing up as the closest of childhood companions.

But as more refugees drifted into Baixi Village to settle, clearing the wilderness and expanding the arable land, the descendants of the four families multiplied and branched out. The warmth and innocence of their youth withered away. They began to prioritize the raw interests of their respective clans, suppressing smaller households while endless friction scraped between the four major houses themselves.

Yet, hearing of Qian Yuanqing's sudden death, how could these old men not feel a sudden, dazed sorrow?

"Xiaoqing is dead... hounded to his grave by his own unfilial flesh and blood," Liu Quan let out a long, weary sigh, his voice thick with desolation.

"The root of the Qian family's ruin was planted from the very beginning," Liu Ming remarked from the side. "They gathered all their land under the clan's name, ordered the entire kinship to till it, and distributed the grain and wealth equally."

"Such a system might foster rapid growth in the short term, but over time, disaster is inevitable."

"It fails to weigh who exerts themselves and who slacks off, blindly doling out the annual harvest in equal shares based on mere headcounts."

"When the diligent and the indolent receive the exact same provisions, even the industrious will grow half-hearted, while the lazy degenerate into mere parasites living off the collective."

"Allowed to fester, the entire clan becomes thoroughly idle. Even without the interference of the Bai Merchant House, the Qian family would have splintered sooner or later, their clan broken and erased."

Liu Ming paused briefly, a touch of pride surfacing in his tone. "Though our Liu family cannot match the wealth they once held, our kinsmen dwell in harmony."

"This is because we divide our fields into public and private sectors. The yield of the public fields sustains the clan's treasury, while the private fields belong strictly to individual households, requiring only a one-tenth tribute to the clan."

"Thus, our people have the drive to sweat over the earth, and the clan retains enough surplus to care for its own. Should any household suffer misfortune, the clan can readily deploy coin and grain to see them through."

"When our numbers multiply in the future, we can establish a clan school, build a martial training ground, ensure our children enjoy a carefree youth, and provide a reliable haven for the elderly and widowed..."

Liu Quan watched Liu Ming speak with such flowing eloquence. Though Liu Ming had failed the prefectural civil examinations multiple times, Liu Quan remained immensely satisfied with him. This was the successor he had chosen to lead the clan, a man capable of governing the Liu family with a steady hand.

Yet, a shadow of profound melancholy lingered in the old man's eyes.

Qian Yuanqing had been ancient and shrewd; how could he have missed the gaping flaws in the system he forged? He had persisted simply because he viewed every single clansman as his immediate family!

To till the earth together and share the food as one-that was not a clan, but a household.

Only within the tight bonds of a household does everyone yearn for their home to prosper, and only there do hearts truly align.

But while a family shares one heart, a clan rarely does.

A clansman is loyal first to his own small household, and only then to the sprawling greater clan.

Liu Quan knew that Qian Yuanqing was simply yearning for those harsh, initial years when they first broke ground-the days when the four houses supported one another, and everyone strove forward with a singular will.

But time alters all things. Not only had the four founding families drifted apart, but even kinsmen sharing the exact same bloodline could harbor vastly divergent motives. Qian Yuanqing had merely chosen to blind himself, treating every degenerate and idler as inseparable family.

In the end, his descendants had turned their backs on virtue to rip the family apart, brutally shattering the beautiful illusion the old man harbored. His heart had truly died, left behind in the decades of the past.

At the Zhou Residence.

When Zhou Ping received word of Qian Yuanqing's suicide, he froze momentarily, feeling a mix of pity and quiet satisfaction.

If his family was to rise, they required a stable foundation. Though Baixi Village was barren of Spirit Qi, it was an exceptional haven for mortals. Surrounded by mountains, it was easy to defend and perilous to assault, possessing over a thousand mu of fertile land capable of sustaining thousands of souls.

Yet, as long as the four old clans remained entrenched, it would be difficult for the Zhou family to independently dominate the region.

After all, the local resources were strictly limited, far too scarce to satisfy multiple hungry mouths.

If his family could produce a single true Qi Condensation cultivator, these four clans would naturally bow and offer submission. But before such a cultivator emerged, they could only engage in a silent, cutthroat struggle for survival.

"Changhe, what do you make of this Qian Yuanqing?" Zhou Ping questioned his nephew.

Zhou Changhe deliberated for a moment. "He was a benevolent elder, but a flawed clan leader."

Zhou Ping burst into a satisfied, booming laugh. "Excellent! Traveling the world has indeed broadened your vision. Handing the family estate to you in the future sets my mind entirely at ease."

"Uncle, you praise me too highly," Zhou Changhe replied with a humble smile. "My younger brothers will grow up in time, and they are bound to surpass me. It would be just as well for them to manage the estate when the day comes."

"You must not say that. You are the eldest son of the primary branch, and I have personally observed your character and conduct. By both law and affection, this family must be passed to your hands," Zhou Ping said, shaking his head. "Though I am revered as an Immortal Master, my cultivation is meager. As the years pile upon me, I can only shield this family for a finite time."

"The future rests squarely on your shoulders."

"With the Qian clan now dissolved, their monopoly on the trade of medicinal herbs and mountain goods has fallen vacant. Tomorrow, I will summon your maternal cousins and recruit a few surviving members of the Qian family to seize control of this venture. Once you are slightly older, I shall hand it over for you to manage entirely."

Zhou Changhe stared at Zhou Ping, a sudden tremor shaking his heart.

His uncle was an Immortal Master and the sole pillar of their house. Without him, he might have been trampled to death under Liu Da's boots years ago, or spent his entire life scraping a miserable existence from the dirt. He would never have known the status and prestige he enjoyed today.

During his time in the county seat, he had seen that even within the clans of Immortal Masters, though multiple branches existed, the reins of absolute power always remained with the Immortal Master's direct biological offspring. There were no exceptions.

Though his uncle had maintained since his return that the family would be handed to him, would he still harbor the same thoughts once his own sons grew to manhood? Would his cousins accept such an arrangement quietly?

Zhou Changhe violently suppressed the stray thoughts rising in his mind. No matter what the future held, his uncle's current sincerity was absolute. If his cousins desired the family estate in the future, he would simply hand it over without complaint.

"Uncle, I shall head over to check on Changxi and the others," Zhou Changhe said, rising to take his leave.

Zhou Ping smiled warmly. "Go on, go on. You are rarely home, so you should naturally spend more time with your younger brothers to foster your bonds."

Shortly after, Zhou Ping also rose and made his way toward the inner courtyard.

Within their private chamber, Chen Nianqiu sat diligently reading and practicing her script despite her advanced pregnancy.

Since her marriage, she had quietly fulfilled her role as a devoted wife and mother, while concurrently helping to manage a portion of the family's properties. Realizing that a lack of education would eventually hinder her, she had taken to teaching herself, using it as a quiet pastime to ease her long days.

When Zhou Ping informed her of the Qian family's dissolution and his recent acquisition of an additional seventy mu of land, Chen Nianqiu's breath hitched. She lowered her head and began to weep silently.

For her, the tragic undoing of the Qian clan meant that her deep-seated blood feud had finally been avenged.

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