150: Chapter 150 The Rise of the Chen Family: A New Era of Recognition

Morning light swept over the ridge, dyeing the Chen Family mountain gate in a wash of golden red.

The clamor on the Martial Arts Platform had not yet fully dissipated; children's laughter still echoed on both sides of the jade path, colorful flags snapped in the wind, and rune lanterns swayed gently.

But the guest seats were empty; the viewing area, which had been packed just moments ago, now held only scattered footprints and the lingering smoke of unextinguished incense burners.

A group of noble Family managers dressed in brocade robes walked slowly down the bluestone steps, their footsteps heavy as if treading through a swamp.

The young man at the front had his nose in the air, still stubbornly insisting: "Wasn't it just a pit blown out by a mecha? Talking about foundation, their Chen Family was still mining three generations ago!"

Before his voice faded, an old Elder with a white beard hanging to his chest beside him suddenly stopped and turned to stare at him, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"Then you go stand by that pit and try it."

The young man was stunned, "What?"

"Go on," the old man's voice was low. "Stand at the edge of that deep pit, reach your hand in, and feel the residual heat coming from underground. Tell me, was that 'blown' out, or slashed out?"

The youth opened his mouth but said nothing more.

On another mountain path, two Loose Cultivators with sabers on their backs walked side by side, their hems stained with last night's dew.

One sighed: "I've lived sixty years and seen Foundation Establishment Cultivators wielding swords, but I've never seen a Foundation Establishment Cultivator slash with the power of a Golden Core."

"I've seen it too," the other tightened his grip on his saber hilt, his knuckles turning white. "But those were all Sect geniuses, holding ancient Magical Artifacts and triggering the resonance of heaven and earth. But that sword strike just now—"

He paused, his throat bobbing. "It was cleaved by a mecha. A kid who just reached Foundation Establishment, sitting in an iron shell, vaporized three zhang of foundation with one strike. What do you call that?"

"It means the Chen Family has stood up," the man smiled bitterly. "In the future, when you meet someone from the Chen Family, ask for their name first; don't be reckless. If someone raises their hand and fires a Shoulder Cannon, we won't even know how we died."

At the fork ahead, various groups of people who should have gone their separate ways all stopped and looked back in unison.

Sunlight spilled over five mechas; their metal shells gleamed with a cold light, and green patterns flowed slowly like Bloodlines.

They stood quietly in the center of the square like five war gods that had not yet returned to their sheaths, their eyes a ghostly blue, as if still watching every breath of this land.

No one mentioned the 'useless clan' anymore.

No one spoke of a 'marginal small clan' anymore.

A purple-robed envoy remained silent for a long time before finally taking a Jade Slip from his sleeve. With power condensed at his fingertips, he carved word by word: "The Chen Family possesses five mecha combat units, with single-unit output reaching the Golden Core Early Stage, featuring autonomous repair and Psionic Resonance characteristics."

Beside him, an old Aide took the Jade Slip and looked closely, his brow furrowed. Finally, he took a brush and added a note: "Marked as a 'key observation target'; no disputes shall be initiated within ten years."

"Ten years?" someone questioned in a low voice. "If a fight really breaks out, can we stop them?"

"We can't," the old Aide closed the Jade Slip, his voice hoarse. "That's why we must write 'no disputes shall be initiated.' It's not an order to others; it's a reminder to ourselves—don't seek death."

Not far away, a young man who originally had a challenge letter at his waist stood before the Airship's gangway, his hand reaching for a secret letter in his robe.

The slip of paper that read "eliminate them quickly" was already soaked with sweat.

He stared at it for a long time, then suddenly tore it in half and threw it into a portable brazier.

Ashes drifted up, reflecting his complex expression.

He knew that if this paper were sent out, it wouldn't just be his death; the entire Sect could be blasted into scorched earth by that single sword strike.

On the other side, in the merchant guild parking area, the Airship engines had begun to hum.

A merchant caravan leader stood at the cabin door, temporarily changing the itinerary: "Postpone the acquisition of the Chen Family's peripheral mineral veins and change it to negotiating cooperation. Remember, keep your posture low when talking; don't put on the airs of a large Sect."

The assistant hesitated: "But last time we pressed the price too hard..."

"Then apologize," he said coldly. "Bring double the Spirit Stones. Tell them we want to buy 'trust,' not mines."

The Airships took off one by one, piercing through the morning mist and leaving trails in the sky.

But as each ship reached a hundred zhang above the ground, they all slowed down in unison.

Everyone looked in the same direction—the Chen Family mountain gate.

There were no banners waving or drums beating; only five mechas shone brightly in the sun, like five iron pillars driven into the earth, declaring an unshakeable presence.

"The Chen Family... has truly risen," someone murmured.

These words started as a whisper and then quietly passed between the Airships, like a tide washing over rocks, silent yet firm.

"Isn't it?" an old Cultivator leaned against the window, looking at the distant mountain shadows. "Three years ago, whenever anyone mentioned the Chen Family, they said 'Eastern Wasteland's wasted Bloodline, lingering on its last breath.' And now? A single sentence can make over a dozen factions change their itineraries and strategies."

"The key is that the mecha can recognize its master," another person chimed in. "I saw Chen Xiaodao go in with my own eyes. The moment the hatch closed, the green patterns lit up synchronously, like a heartbeat. This isn't a weapon; it's a symbiont."

"What's even scarier is the self-healing," the brocade-robed manager interrupted. "Last night, one mecha had a scratch on its left arm. Looking again this morning, it's gone. Blood-vessel-like patterns crawled over it, and the wound healed. Do you think if this thing broke, it would grow back on its own?"

Everyone fell silent.

After a moment, one person smiled bitterly: "That's why I said, this isn't a mecha; it's a war god reborn in armor."

The Airship continued to climb, and the full view of the Chen Family gradually came into sight: the expanded Artifact Refining Workshop emitted faint white smoke, spiritual plants in the Medicinal Fields shimmered, youths practiced their footwork on the array-patterned square, and Elders smiled as they watched children chase and play.

Everything was incredibly peaceful.

But it was precisely this peace that made people's hearts feel heavy.

Once upon a time, this place was scorched earth, and clansmen hid in cellars chewing tree bark; now, children dare to hop around the feet of mechas, and Elders dare to sit in the shadows sunbathing.

The change was too great, too fierce, and too undeniable.

"Reporting to the Sect Head—" an envoy spoke into a Transmission Jade Talisman, his voice terrifyingly steady. "The Chen Family is not to be provoked."

As these words fell, similar responses sounded from several surrounding Airships almost simultaneously.

"Reporting to the Sect Master, I suggest re-evaluating our relationship with the Chen Family."

"Reporting to the President, immediately stop all intelligence infiltration operations against the Chen Family."

"Notify the front line: if you encounter Chen Family clansmen, prioritize avoidance and take the initiative to show goodwill."

No arguments, no questions, not even a hint of hesitation.

It was as if everyone reached a consensus in the same instant: some bottom lines, if touched, would lead to death.

The last Airship was also about to leave the Eastern Wasteland's airspace. Inside the cockpit, the helmsman took one last look back.

The sun was just right, and the five mechas still stood tall, their metal gleaming like guardian gods of the mountain.

He whispered, "Boss, did we come here this time to inspect a weak clan, or to pay respects at the mountain?"

The captain didn't answer, only gently pressed the acceleration button.

The engines roared, and the Airship broke through the clouds and departed.

Behind them, the Chen Family mountain gate stood firm; the mechas opened their eyes, quietly waiting for the next era.