"My Lord, shouldn't a decision be made now? Otherwise, I fear for stability," Li Zhong, a steward in yellow robes standing by the side of the old Prince Liao, couldn't help but step forward slightly, reminding him in a low voice as he watched the old Prince sit rigidly on his throne without making any move.

He had been sold into the Prince's estate as a child, attending the old Prince's side, serving the estate for fifty or sixty years, and now holding the position of the chief steward of Prince Liao’s Mansion, making him the servant the old Prince trusted most.

In his capacity as a servant, he absolutely should not have taken the initiative to speak without the master's command. But with the estate facing a grave crisis, he had no choice but to overstep. This large assembly of martial artists, waiting in the main hall late at night despite the bitter cold, expecting the old Prince's orders, was not sustainable. These local syndicates had been loyal to Prince Liao’s Estate for centuries; their morale could not be allowed to dip. The old Prince might not care about their loyalty, but as his servant, he had to consider his master's interests.

Moreover, some resolution was needed for this matter; whether to engage in open warfare with the Twenty Northern Gangs or to prepare a fallback route, plans had to be made sooner rather than later.

Li Zhong’s words seemed to rouse the old Prince Liao from his deep contemplation.

The old Prince Liao startled and looked up, asking, "Has Cong'er returned?"

Li Zhong quickly replied, "Reporting to the old Prince, Young Master is currently en route to Qingyun Temple. He only left about half a cup of tea's time ago; he won't be back that quickly. I estimate it will take the duration of a meal before he returns."

"Wait for him to return, then tell him to find me in the study."

The old Prince Liao had been sitting rigidly in the hall for a long time, exhausting his energy, appearing somewhat weary. After speaking, he waved his hand, not looking at the assembled leaders of the martial organizations below, and left the main hall with his hands clasped behind his back, retiring to the study in the inner court of the estate to rest.

The gang leaders and elders in the hall exchanged uneasy glances, uncertain what the old Prince intended. The final deadline set by the Twenty Northern Gangs for dawn was only two or three hours away. What was the old Prince still waiting for?

About the time it took to eat a meal later, a young man in opulent robes, barely seventeen or eighteen years of age, galloped a black-maned steed to the gates of Prince Liao's Estate. He dismounted, shaking the snow from his head covering, and was swiftly led by Li Zhong to the study in the residence.

Upon seeing the old Prince Liao, the young man immediately knelt on the floor, respectfully saying, "Grandfather!"

The old Prince Liao’s face darkened upon seeing he had returned alone. He sternly demanded, "Where is your father? Why didn't he return from Qingyun Temple?"

The young man meekly shrank his head and whispered, "Father refuses to return. He says he must preside over the Immortal Arts Dueling Convention and needs three days of purification and seclusion at Qingyun Temple to oversee this grand event."

"Did you not tell him this is the critical juncture of the Liao Clan's very survival?"

The young man pleaded with a pained expression, "Telling him was useless, Grandfather. Father says these mundane martial squabbles are not worth distracting him. He refuses to involve himself, not even with the matters of Prince Liao’s Estate. He told me not to bother him again. Father said even if the Prince's Estate were seized, he still wouldn't care. Father claims that as long as he achieves great success in the 'Heart-Realm Immortal Path,' the Liao family will inevitably regain its glory sooner or later, and he urged his grandson to stay at the Daoist temple and cultivate the Heart-Realm Immortal Path with him."

Hearing this, the old Prince Liao trembled with rage, striking his rosewood desk: "Nonsense! Utter nonsense! Are the affairs of the estate mere trifles? These local syndicates in Qingzhou City are the last resort under the control of my Liao family. If we lose our influence in Qingzhou City, my Liao Clan will have no remaining territory whatsoever!

That Dueling Convention he's fiddling with has been going on for decades, and I see no discernible effect on his cultivation. Can that Dueling Convention truly resurrect the Liao family? At this moment of life-and-death crisis for the Liao Clan, we are left with only three cultivators. Your father is the only mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator in our family, yet he ignores the family's peril, still obsessed with his Heart-Realm Immortal Path!"

The young man, not entirely averse to the Heart-Realm Immortal Path, couldn't help but interject, "Grandfather, the Heart-Realm Immortal Path was passed down by our Liao ancestors. Father cultivating this path is, in fact..."

"Silence! What do you know?"

For some reason, the old Prince Liao held an intense aversion to the Heart-Realm Immortal Path. Hearing the young man defend it, he became furious and abruptly cut him off.

The chief steward of Prince Liao’s Mansion, Li Zhong, lingered near the study door. Hearing the sudden burst of anger from the old Prince, he couldn't help but sigh.

He knew why the old Prince so deeply resented the Heart-Realm Immortal Path. When the old Prince was a young cultivator in his twenties or thirties, Li Zhong had served him closely. Back then, the old Prince was even more infatuated with the Heart-Realm Immortal Path than the current Prince sequestered in Qingyun Temple.

If the renowned Heart-Realm Immortal Arts Dueling Convention of Qingzhou City had not been subtly promoted by the old Prince and the Prince father and son from behind the scenes, it likely wouldn't have reached its current grandeur.

At that time, the old Prince was also filled with ambition, hoping to revive the Liao family through this Immortal Path, neglecting the cultivation of his physical body and primordial spirit in the process. As a result, in his old age, he had achieved nothing substantial, only then waking up with deep regret.

Alas, by then, he had missed the optimal cultivation period of his youth. The old Prince was only at the second level of Qi Refining cultivation even now. It was precisely because of this that he held an absolute hatred for the Heart-Realm Immortal Path, believing it had misled him from the true path of cultivation. His devotion had swung from extreme infatuation to extreme loathing.

Inside the study, the young man was startled and dared not say more. His grandfather had a volatile temper and was quick to anger; he dared not provoke him further.

The old Prince Liao took several sharp breaths, his blood surging, his face flushed crimson. He sat back in the sandalwood armchair, remaining still for a long time before calming down.

"Cong'er, since cultivators in the Spirit Mist Immortal Realm established the path of cultivation, this immortal journey to longevity has been arduous; one must accumulate essence daily for even minor progress. Where in this world is there a method for instant success? If the Heart-Realm Immortal Path were truly effective, why did our ancestors establish it as a primary path and instead focus on the cultivation of the physical body and primordial spirit? Your father’s delusion of rapidly increasing his strength through that ethereal Heart-Realm cultivation is walking the evil path."

The old Prince's rage did not last long. In chastising his son's obsession with the Immortal Path, he was perhaps also scolding himself for his own past folly. He raised his head and sighed deeply. It was pitiful that his dignified Liao Clan, a bloodline surviving from the ancient cultivators, had fallen to this state. However, no matter what, the continuation of his Liao bloodline had to be preserved.

"Cong'er, take your mother, siblings, and other immediate relatives, and leave the city to seek refuge. While I, this old man, hold the fort in Qingzhou City, the sky won't simply collapse!"

The young man hurriedly protested, "Grandfather, the Twenty Northern Gangs have four rogue cultivators. You would be facing them alone; you are no match!"

"My lifespan is nearing its end; I am a dying man, so death holds little sorrow. If your father could return, perhaps he could sustain this legacy, but alas... Now, I remain behind. Relying on the arrangements within the Prince's Estate, we can only delay things for as long as possible.

You leave. It is still not too late. After a few days, when the Twenty Northern Gangs control the local syndicates of Qingzhou City, it will be difficult for you to leave. After leaving Qingzhou City, find a small county town, settle the clansmen, and then you go to Xian Yuan City to live as a rogue cultivator, keeping a low profile and diligently cultivating. Didn't our Liao ancestor also establish a massive family enterprise starting as a rogue cultivator? It's no great matter; at worst, our Liao Clan will start anew."

The old Prince Liao’s words were tinged with profound desolation. He understood clearly that after a family's decline, starting over was profoundly difficult! Perhaps one day, the lineage of his Liao family would be extinguished. But even so, he had to fight desperately to preserve this last flicker of heritage.

"Grandfather, please take care of yourself."

The young man was somewhat timid in nature, but not rigid. In a crisis, one must adapt; for the family to survive, someone had to make a sacrifice. With a crestfallen face, he kowtowed several times to the old Prince Liao, turned, and hastily exited the study to gather the immediate relatives of the Liao Clan, preparing to evacuate Qingzhou City and flee the danger.

An hour later, having arranged the transfer of his clansmen, the old Prince Liao slowly returned to the main hall of the estate and summoned the high-ranking leaders of all the syndicates. By now, his complexion had regained its ruddy glow, showing none of the former withered appearance.

The bosses of the syndicates were instantly reinvigorated.

"As long as this King draws breath, I will never allow the Northern Gangs to run rampant in Qingzhou City."

The old Prince Liao swept his gaze over the leaders of the syndicates in the hall, his tone sharp.

"Qinghong Gang, Leader Liu, you will deploy secret scouts and sentinels inside and outside Qingzhou City, reporting every move of the Twenty Northern Gangs to this King at all times."

"Yes, as the Old Prince commands!"

"Changqiu Gang, Leader Liu, you will take men to the critical points of the main headquarters of the various gangs within the city, planting soldiers and traps. Ensure the Twenty Northern Gangs remain ignorant of the movements of the local syndicate forces, drawing them to disperse their troops."

"Yes, as the Old Prince commands!"

"Iron Palm Gang, Great Sabre Society, Scarlet Blood Hall, Iron Blood Alliance—you several gangs are the most powerful forces around Qingzhou City. Concentrate all your first-rate and above experts, prepare for a counter-assault on the Northern Gangs' strongholds within the city, and drive them out of Qingzhou City!"

"Yes, as the Old Prince commands!"

"Old Li, dispatch a few men to the Qingzhou Prefectural Yamen and the Qingzhou Garrison. Make arrangements; if necessary, we can leverage the strength of the yamen runners and official soldiers to interfere with and disrupt the Northern Gang maneuvers. Given the rapport between our Prince Liao’s Estate and the Yamen/Garrison, they should offer this small assistance."

"Yes, Old Prince."

Li Zhong immediately nodded.

Seeing the old Prince Liao regain his former spirit and issue orders methodically, the local syndicate leaders secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the old Prince was still vigorous and his prestige undiminished. As long as this pillar remained, they felt secure in their hearts.