An Uncertain Future

The Star Clan.

This name was not unfamiliar to them.

In the past, the Star Clan was nothing like the reclusive existence it had become today.

During the golden age of the Star Clan, seven Immortal Emperors presided over the Star Sea, commanding awe throughout all races. They were among the most supreme entities in the entire Immortal Realm.

Each of the seven Immortal Emperors was a pinnacle figure in their respective domains.

Though the Star Clan later chose seclusion, gradually fading from the Immortal Realm’s view, the legends of the Star Clan and the records of the seven Immortal Emperors had always been preserved within the annals of the Zhuge family.

And Gu Changyuan had not only earned the recognition of the Star Clan but had also ascended to the position of Ancestor of Ten Thousand Stars.

That Gu Changyuan could gain the approval of the Star Clan’s seven founding ancestors spoke volumes that his means, foundations, and potential were far from ordinary.

The five Immortal Emperors fell into deep thought.

Silence reigned in the great hall for a long time.

Zhuge Xuanji’s gaze remained fixed on Gu Changyuan.

He could not calculate Gu Changyuan’s cultivation level. He could not calculate his karma. He could not foresee his future.

After a long moment, Zhuge Xuanji withdrew his gaze.

The runes in his Eye of Heavenly Mechanism ceased their motion, and his pupils returned to a deep cyan hue.

He gave up on probing further.

Not because he lacked desire to see, but because continuing held no meaning.

The Imperial Court’s hunt would not cease.

The five immortal families had fallen from their peak; the Dugu family had been annihilated; the Shangguan family had suffered heavy casualties; and while the Zhuge, Xuanyuan, and Gongsun families had temporarily preserved themselves, no one knew when the Imperial Court would gain the ability to easily lock onto their locations.

Hiding in secret realms was not a long-term solution.

Scarcity of resources, anxiety among clan members, and the stifled growth of the younger generation.

These problems would not simply vanish by “lying low.” They would only worsen with time.

The Zhuge family needed a path—a viable path, a path that could lead them out of their predicament.

In the past, Zhuge Xuanji never made decisions unless he was absolutely certain.

But things were different now; their time was limited.

Perhaps sometimes, an uncertain future could better handle the present crisis.

“I agree to the Zhuge family joining the Heavenly Court.”

Zhuge Xuanji’s voice was steady and resolute.

The moment his words fell, a brief silence filled the hall.

The other four Immortal Emperors turned to look at him, then quickly gave their answers.

Five Immortal Emperors, five voices of “Agreed.” No arguments, no disagreements, not a single “but.”

Because they knew that before Zhuge Xuanji spoke, he had already weighed every variable.

When he opened his mouth, it was the final answer.

In the time that followed, both sides began discussing the specific arrangements for joining the Heavenly Court.

It was not simply a case of “We join you” and be done with it. Instead, it involved a series of complex issues: personnel placement, resource allocation, division of responsibilities, and more.

Fortunately, both parties were straightforward people—they did not use two sentences when one sufficed, and they made decisions on the spot rather than deferring them to later.

The primary decision was to send the younger generation of the Zhuge family to the Heavenly Court first.

Not because they were a burden—quite the opposite; they were the family’s future.

Sending them to the Heavenly Court was both protection and upbringing.

At present, the Zhuge family’s Immortal Emperors, Immortal Kings, and most of the Immortal Venerables had participated in the campaign against the Imperial Court, and as a result, the Imperial Court had locked onto their auras and karmic imprints.

If they remained outside for too long, they could easily be detected by the Imperial Court’s methods.

Moreover, if a large group gathered together, their intertwined auras and karmic traces would exponentially increase the risk of discovery. Even with Gu Changyuan’s abilities, he could not yet conceal the karmic trajectories of so many high-level cultivators on his own.

But the younger clan members were different.

Their cultivation levels were shallow, their experiences few, and their karmic entanglements limited.

Sending them to the Heavenly Court would allow Gu Changyuan to provide them with the safest sanctuary at the least cost.

If the Zhuge family’s secret realm were unfortunately exposed and breached by the Imperial Court, at least the younger generation would have a fallback, ensuring the family’s bloodline would not be severed.

Furthermore, the Zhuge family’s resources had already dwindled significantly compared to the past.

The Imperial Court’s blockade, the relocation of the secret realm, and the casualties among clan members—each blow had eroded the family’s foundation.

Though the Zhuge family could still hold out for now, what about the future?

As long as the Imperial Court remained unvanquished, their troubles would only grow, not diminish.

At the Heavenly Court, they would receive the best nurture and training.

Zhuge Xuanji issued these arrangements one by one, his voice calm and his logic clear.

The clan elders behind him bowed and departed with haste.

With the formal matters concluded, Gu Changyuan rose to his feet, preparing to return to the Heavenly Court with the three women.

“Wait a moment.”

Zhuge Jing rose from her seat, her gaze falling upon Bai Ling’er.

“I would like this young lady to remain here.”

Zhuge Jing’s voice remained cool but carried a faint trace of warmth that had not been there before.

She raised her right hand, pointing at Bai Ling’er with a light gesture.

“I wish to discuss cultivation with her.”

She used the word “discuss,” but everyone present knew this was hardly an exchange.

She was an Immortal Emperor, having lived at least tens of thousands of years, enduring countless battles, walking countless wrong paths, and accumulating endless experience.

What it truly meant was Zhuge Jing giving unilateral guidance and instruction.

Yet no one found this inappropriate, because Zhuge Jing’s intent was to nurture talent.

Bai Ling’er’s exquisite Dao heart was a superior constitution to the Mirror-Mind Dao Heart.

Zhuge Jing looked at Bai Ling’er the way a swordsmith gazed upon an incomparable piece of divine iron.

She could not resist the urge to polish it, to shape it, to let this piece of divine iron shine with its due brilliance.

Even if that divine iron did not belong to her.

Bai Ling’er did not answer immediately. She turned her head to look at Gu Changyuan.

It was not for the sake of cultivation.

She could cultivate anywhere—at the Heavenly Court, she had her master’s guidance, and she lacked nothing in that regard.

The reason Bai Ling’er agreed to stay was more pragmatic, more grounded, more like her.

It was to strengthen the bond between the two sides.

Her master had just reached an agreement with the Zhuge family, but there was still a gulf between agreement and trust.

Consensus required mutual benefit; trust required time.

And the best way to close that gap was to deepen their connection.

Gu Changyuan looked at Bai Ling’er, silent for a moment.

The corner of his lips curled slightly, and he nodded.

“Go ahead.”

Bai Ling’er smiled.

She walked over to stand before Zhuge Jing, stopped, and gave a slight bow, performing the courtesy of a junior toward an elder.

“Senior, I look forward to your guidance.”