148: Chapter 148 Foundation Establishment Celebration, Inviting All Parties

The night wind swept across the training ground, sand hitting the mechs and making a rustling sound.

Five mechs stood there, green patterns on their surfaces flickering like they were still breathing.

Chen Wuwang stood on the high platform, his eyes mechanical, the light slowly narrowing as the last figure on the distant mountain disappeared.

He raised his hand and tapped the hilt of his blade three times with his fingertips—click, click, click—the sound was short and powerful.

The Main Hall was lit up; a dozen or so clan Elders sat there, no one speaking, but all watching him.

"They have left," Chen Wuwang spoke, his voice not loud but drowning out the wind outside. "When the Gray-robed man left, he said one thing: 'The Chen family cannot be provoked.'"

The old stonemason on the left coughed and frowned, saying, "Family Head, while that sounds like they fear us, do we really need to hold a grand ceremony now? We have only just stabilized our Foundation Establishment, our Foundation is not yet firm. If something happens..."

"If what?" Chen Wuwang sneered, turning to walk toward the main seat, his silver hair swaying. "Are you afraid others will think us cowardly, and that hiding will bring us peace?"

He stopped, the three scars on his face shining under the lamplight.

"You can hide once, but not for a lifetime. The more we hide, the more others speculate; the weaker we are, the more others want to snatch from us. They are wary now, which is the perfect time to make them turn that fear into acknowledgement."

No one spoke below.

The Second Elder stroked his beard and said slowly, "But if we hold a ceremony, everyone will come. If someone is unconvinced and takes the opportunity to attack, and we see blood before the ceremony is even finished, wouldn't that be a loss of face?"

"Then what would you have me do?" Chen Wuwang stared at him. "Keep hiding in the mine tunnels doing Artifact Refining? Let the children crawl into cellars the moment they hear an alarm? We risked our lives to dig out the Spiritual Vein and build mechs, not to live even more cautiously."

He walked to the table and slammed a Jade Slip down, the hum echoing throughout the Main Hall.

"Three days from now, we hold the Foundation Establishment ceremony. Invite the nearby Sects, noble families, and the Loose Cultivator Alliance to come; all who come are welcome. This is not to beg for their recognition, but to tell everyone—the Chen family has stood up, openly and honorably."

After he finished speaking, the room was silent for a moment.

After a while, the old stonemason sighed and stood up. "Since that is the case, I will take people to clean the square, wash the monument platform, and pave the welcoming road."

"I will go check the inventory," another manager rose. "Runic lanterns, formation platforms, jade steps, and so on; report whatever is missing immediately."

"Notify the Medicinal Field group," Chen Wuwang added. "Harvest all spiritual flowers over a hundred years old, pick the best ones, and arrange them into a flower formation along the main road. It is not to show off, but to let them see what vitality means."

Everyone left one after another to attend to their tasks.

Chen Wuwang stood alone in the middle of the Main Hall, his fingers tapping the table one by one, as if counting the time.

As soon as the sky brightened, the entire Chen family became busy.

Young Disciples rushed to the square with brooms, sweeping and shouting slogans: "Sweep the left side three times! Press the right side twice! Anyone who leaves dust gets punished with ten laps!"

Several youths squatted on the road carving formation patterns; fingernail-sized runes were connected one after another, and even if their hands trembled, they dared not stop.

The Artifact Refining group rang out with endless clanging. A dozen craftsmen surrounded a table making commemorative mech models; the palm-sized "Po Xu Type-1" was already finished, with tiny self-repairing green patterns in the armor seams.

"These thirty must be sealed before noon!" Chen Tiezhu's head apprentice roared, then turned to wipe his sweat. Seeing Chen Wuwang standing at the door, he immediately stood straight. "Family Head! We can make it! It is just that the Materials are a bit tight."

"Third level of the underground warehouse, Area B, seventh grid," Chen Wuwang said. "Take the backup Spirit Crystal sets, activate the Puppet construction team, and lay the jade path and the Foundation for the formation platform first."

"That is for emergencies..." the little apprentice muttered softly.

"Now is an emergency," Chen Wuwang glanced at him. "What do you think they are coming to see? To see us so poor that we dare not even turn on the lights?"

He turned and walked toward the Medicinal Field.

On the road, a group of children were practicing a dance. Seven or eight-year-old children missed the rhythm, but didn't cry when they fell; they climbed up and kept dancing. A little girl's braid came loose, and while dancing, she wiped her sweat with the back of her hand, muttering: "Mother said, if I dance well, I can stand in the front row tomorrow."

Chen Wuwang stopped to watch her.

The little girl noticed him watching her, froze for a moment, and hurriedly bowed properly: "Greetings, Family Head!"

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Xiao He! Nine years old, first level of Qi Refining!" She puffed out her chest, her voice crisp.

"Not bad," he nodded. "Tomorrow you will stand in the front row."

The little girl's eyes lit up instantly, and she jumped up, almost bumping into the person next to her.

Chen Wuwang's lips curled slightly, and he continued walking forward.

By the edge of the Medicinal Field, several women were carefully clipping spiritual flowers, each one covered in dew, the petals glowing with a faint golden light.

"Is this batch enough?" he asked.

"Enough! Three hundred and sixty flowers, according to the six-six number you mentioned, for good luck," the manager replied. "It's just that the children all want to pick them, and we can't stop them."

"Then give one to each of them," he said. "Wear them in their hair, wear new clothes, and make it lively. This is not a war; it is a festival."

When he returned to the Main Hall, it was already noon.

On the table lay ten invitations; the shells were made of Zerg carapaces, feeling cold and hard to the touch, with tiny mech patterns engraved at the bottom, gleaming with a metallic luster in the sunlight.

"Send them by two channels," he said to the messenger Disciple. "Openly, use Flying Sword transmission, going through public channels, with the content only stating the time and place, simple and solemn. Secretly, use low-power spiritual frequencies, encrypted, to send the real coordinates and security codes, only to the forces we have contact with."

"Will there be anyone to escort them?"

"Ten elite Disciples, divided into five routes, two people per route, with different paths, not knowing about each other. The invitations have self-destruct runic patterns inside; if forcibly dismantled, they will burn up."

"What if they are intercepted?"

"Then let them burn," Chen Wuwang sneered. "Let them know that for the Chen family's things, touching them requires paying a price."

The Disciple accepted the order and left.

He was the only one left in the Main Hall.

He picked up the last invitation; the cover was blank, but the material was a remnant of a Mother Queen's shell, black with purple, and one could vaguely see something like thin threads moving inside.

This one had no number, and no destination.

He touched the shell surface and did not move for a long time.

Laughter came from outside; a group of children ran past under the steps, holding colorful flags.

"Family Head! The flowers are set!"

"The jade path is clear!"

"The formation patterns are lit—!"

He walked to the window and looked out.

The entire clan grounds were brightly lit; formation platforms floated in the air, runic lanterns hung by the roadside, and the jade path led straight to the outside of the mountain gate, with spiritual flowers swaying on both sides, their fragrance drifting in the air.

The youths were lined up in the square practicing, their steps uniform, their faces full of pride.

This was not a celebration of a Foundation Establishment Breakthrough.

This was to tell everyone—we are back.

He gripped the wordless invitation in his hand, his gaze very deep.

The wind blew in, messing up his silver hair, and also lit up the eyes of the five mechs in the distance.