The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

As the elders had said, the Xiao Clan only had two options left.

First, they could move to the Western Continent. This would allow the entire Xiao Clan to survive, at least for now. After all, not even the Fang family dared to make trouble in Buddhist sect territory.

But the problem was, the West was home to Three Temples and Four Mountains—seven hegemonic Buddhist powers. If the Xiao Clan arrived, they would either be outright rejected or slowly devoured.

Second, they could flee to another continent.

This would split the Xiao Clan in two. Only cultivators above the Nascent Soul realm could traverse continental barriers. Those below would have to remain.

As for staying put and doing nothing? They didn't even consider it.

They imagined themselves in the Fang family's shoes: having swallowed up so many factions already, would they really leave one last hegemonic threat untouched?

Although the Xiao Clan had no real enmity with the Fang family, they dared not gamble on Fang kindness.

So they had to leave—even if it meant abandoning their people.

After a long night of deliberation, the elders and patriarchs decided: the Xiao Clan would flee Cang Continent.

Those above the Nascent Soul realm would take the clan's core heritage and resources and find a new place to settle.

Those below… would stay behind.

"Left to fend for themselves" was the only way to describe their fate.

It was cruel—but to the Xiao Clan's high command, it was the best and only viable plan.

Of course, they didn't tell the ones staying behind the truth. Instead, they fabricated a lofty reason to preserve morale and save face.

But anyone with half a brain could see through it.

Why would none of the powerful cultivators stay behind? Clearly, something had gone very wrong.

Soon, the clan elders began packing, urgently preparing for departure.

As they left Cang Continent, they even felt a sense of relief. For days they'd been terrified that the Fang family would catch wind of their plans and send someone to ambush them mid-flight.

Truly, they had projected their own thinking onto others.

In fact, the Fang family did learn of their departure immediately—but had no interest whatsoever in the Xiao Clan.

Back when the Fang family discovered a piece of Sacred Gold being auctioned in Broken Mountain City, the Xiao Clan bought it. On the way back, they were ambushed by multiple factions.

The Fang family couldn't confirm who all was involved, but they had a pretty good idea.

To distance themselves from the conspirators, the Xiao Clan had refused to participate in any suppression efforts against the Fang family.

The Fang family had always been clear about revenge—they repaid every debt. But the Xiao Clan had done nothing to earn their ire.

Fang Ting was no tyrant or bloodthirsty demon who needed blood sacrifices. He had no reason to hunt the Xiao Clan for sport.

The Xiao Clan had simply scared themselves—projecting malice where none existed.

When Fang Ting heard what happened, he actually laughed aloud.

Beside him, Yin Xianhong asked, "What's so funny?"

Fang Ting casually explained. Yin Xianhong was left both amused and exasperated.

"You scared them that badly?"

Fang Ting shrugged. "They did it to themselves. Not my fault."

Yin Xianhong nodded thoughtfully.

Still, the Xiao Clan's decision wasn't entirely wrong. In a world like this, any great power hoping to endure must always assume the worst intentions from others. Never gamble on someone else's kindness.

Because if you gamble—and lose—the consequences are irreversible.

Then Fang Ting changed the topic. "Interested in the True Dragon Ranking?"

Yin Xianhong, though already a Saint King, was still under 500 years old.

The Shenque Mansion used to open every hundred years and only accepted the most elite cultivators of the age. The fact that Elder Wang had chosen Yin Xianhong to become the Mansion Lord showed how monstrous her talent was.

If she entered the True Dragon Ranking, there was a 99% chance she'd take the top spot.

After all, Saint Kings under 500 were exceedingly rare—and those stronger than Yin Xianhong even rarer.

She gently brushed her hair.

"We'll see. If another Saint King shows up, I'll make a move."

After all, the rewards for the top rank were extremely generous. Why let others take them?

Fang Ting found that acceptable. Smiling, he stood and took Yin Xianhong's hand, leading her toward the rear courtyard.

Still thinking about the topic, she asked, "Where are we going?"

Fang Ting said nothing, only nodded in response.

Ten Years Since the True Dragon Ranking Was Founded

Over time, the cultivation level of those ranked had shifted.

In the beginning, True Saints filled most spots, with a few Great Saints among them.

But as the Ranking's fame grew, more and more Saint-level cultivators came to compete.

Even experts from other continents joined in—after all, the Fang family's Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion had already opened shops across dozens of continents.

The only restriction was age—not exceeding 500 years. There were no other limits.

Once news spread of the immense rewards for the top 10, how could Saint-level cultivators from other continents resist?

With so many new contenders, the Great Saints quickly displaced all the True Saints.

Now, every name on the True Dragon Ranking belonged to a Great Saint.

Still, no Saint King had appeared, which raised questions from the crowd.

"It's been ten years—why hasn't a single Saint King shown up?"

"Saint Kings are already rare. Under 500? Even rarer."

"True. Take Cang Continent. There may be quite a few Saint Kings, but 99% are over 500 years old."

"Exactly. Before the Saint realm, you can brute-force your way up with resources. But after that, it all depends on comprehension and fate. Each breakthrough can take decades or centuries. Reaching Saint King before 500? Nearly impossible."

"What about Lord Fang? What stage is he at now? Will he enter the ranking?"

"Lord Fang is a freak of nature. He'll absolutely reach Saint King before 500. But he hasn't cultivated that long yet."

"Yeah. Give it another century and he'll definitely hold first place for good."

The last time Fang Ting had fought publicly was in Starsea, where he had slain the fourth-realm island lord of Peach Blossom Island while still only in second-realm Great Saint.

Given his monstrous talents, most believed he'd reach Saint King in a hundred years.

That was the logical assumption.

But Fang Ting wasn't normal.

Lying in bed… he had already broken through to Emperor Realm.

Say that out loud and no one would believe it.