Rise of the Wang Clan: Starting with a Portable Farm

Chapter 241: The Golden Core Assembly, Part One

The gift-giving ceremony was a marathon of opulence. Due to the staggering number of guests, the segment stretched from the first light of dawn well into the afternoon. Low-level Rogue Cultivators watched, star-struck, as a parade of treasures they had only heard of in legends was presented in rapid succession.

None of the onlookers begrudged the length of the ceremony; for them, it was a rare chance to broaden their horizons. Meanwhile, the high-level cultivators sat in meditative repose, eyes closed. Though they looked down upon the second-grade spiritual items passing by, they possessed the legendary patience of their rank. To those who measured progress in years of secluded cultivation, a few hours was nothing. No one was foolish enough to let a flicker of impatience sour their relationship with the rising Wang family.

For the Wangs, this was the ultimate display of dominance.

The sheer number of Foundation Establishment cultivators in attendance and the staggering value of their tributes sent a clear message: the Wang family had “face.” Their influence was no longer local; it was regional. Once these Rogue Cultivators dispersed, the legend of the Wang family’s prestige would ripple through the cultivation world like a stone cast into a still pond.

Wang Hao sat back, his eyes scanning the gift ledgers. He was the architect of this moment, and his mind hummed with the cold precision of a merchant. He tallied the values silently, and the final sum brought a thin smile to his lips.

The total exceeded 450,000 Spirit Stones—150,000 more than his most optimistic estimate. The Ye family had been the largest contributor to that surplus; their desperate offering of a Third Rank Demon Core alone was worth over 100,000 Spirit Stones.

This windfall surpassed the entirety of the Wang family’s liquid assets, excluding their overseas holdings and the recently secured mines. The celebration had already achieved its primary goal: the family’s financial crisis was solved.

Now, Wang Hao looked toward his second objective: retention. He needed these traveling cultivators to do more than just visit; he wanted them to take root in Qingniu Market, fueling its growth into a true commercial titan. To that end, he had prepared a spectacle of modern entertainment—music, dance, and glamour—to follow the traditional proceedings.

As the final gift was recorded, Wang Guang’an rose. His voice, infused with the authority of a Golden Core master, boomed across the ridge.

“That you have all traveled so far to grace this old man’s Golden Core Assembly is a mark of profound respect. For that, I offer my thanks!”

After the briefest of pleasantries, Wang Guang’an transitioned into the most anticipated portion of the event: the Lecture on the Dao.

This was the true draw of the assembly. Cultivators hadn’t traveled ten thousand miles and spent their life savings on gifts just for a meal or a glimpse of a master. They hungered for the Dao. For a Rogue Cultivator, hearing a Golden Core master speak was a Fated Chance that might only occur once in a century. A single insight could correct years of stagnant cultivation or even trigger an epiphany that could lead to a breakthrough.

Wang Guang’an did not hold back. He spoke with meticulous detail, tracing his journey from the arrogance of his youth to the bitter, wasted years following his injury, and finally, the harrowing ordeal of forming his Golden Core.

He touched upon the intricacies of internal alchemy, the flow of Spiritual Qi, and the brutal realities of combat. It was a masterclass for Foundation Establishment cultivators, packed with substantive “dry goods” rather than empty platitudes. While he kept his family’s core secrets guarded—as any master would—the superficial principles he shared were still life-changing for those beneath him.

The venue fell into a deathly silence. Some listeners were intoxicated by his words; others furrowed their brows in deep thought or confusion. Each took what they could, their fates now resting on their own comprehension.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

A sharp, piercing ripple of Foundation Establishment Pressure cascaded down from the mountain peak. The sudden surge of energy caused several guests to bolt upright, their expressions flickering with shock.

“Is someone in the Wang family breaking through right now?”

“Just how many Foundation Establishment Pills do they have? There are already nine Foundation Establishment cultivators on the scene, and now there’s a tenth! I remember forty years ago at Senior Wang’s own assembly, they only had three. In four decades, they’ve gained a Golden Core and seven Foundation Establishment masters…”

The realization hit the crowd like a physical blow. A chorus of sharp, indrawn breaths hissed through the air. One new master every eight years?

They had no idea that the Wang family held another six Foundation Establishment cultivators in reserve overseas. Had they known, the shock might have paralyzed them.

“Terrifying,” someone whispered. “Did the Wang family stumble upon some ancient Fated Chance?”

“Who knows? But one thing is certain: they have a stable, secret source of Foundation Establishment Pills. There is no other explanation for this kind of growth.”

Among the guests, Lei Liheng broke into a cold sweat. He looked back on his past hostility toward the Wang family and felt a wave of nausea. He had been a fool to think he could contend with them. The Li family had been smart—they had latched onto the Wangs’ coattails early. If he had only swallowed his pride and aligned with them sooner, his own family might be feasting on the leftovers of this prosperity.

Too late for regrets, he thought, letting out a heavy, ragged sigh. He began to scan his own clan’s ranks for suitable young women. Perhaps a marriage alliance could still save them.

Wang Guang’an paused, allowing the murmurs to settle and giving the guests a moment to process the breakthrough.

“Fellow Daoist Wang, congratulations!” Jin Heng said with a practiced smile. “The Wang family’s strength seems to know no bounds.”

“You flatter us,” Wang Guang’an replied smoothly. “It is only thanks to the Foundation Establishment Pills provided by your noble Sect that we could foster such talent.”

Jin Heng smiled but remained silent. He knew Wang Guang’an was being modest to the point of deception, but he wasn’t worried. Compared to the three hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators in his Sect, a dozen was still a drop in the bucket.

The lectures continued for five days. Wang Guang’an spoke for three, followed by Jin Heng, who spoke for half a day in vague, general terms. Afterward, several Wang family Foundation Establishment masters—including Wang Hao—took the stage to share their experiences. For the majority of the guests, who were still in the Qi Refining stage, these practical tips on reaching Foundation Establishment were even more valuable than the abstract theories of the Golden Core.

As Wang Hao concluded his speech, the trance of the lecture finally broke. The cultivators snapped back to reality, only to realize a glaring oversight.

The Wang family hadn’t served a single scrap of food during the five-day lecture.

Normally, such events were catered affairs where one ate and listened simultaneously. Instead, the Wangs had only provided tea. For the Qi Refining cultivators who had not yet achieved Inedia, their stomachs were now screaming in protest.

A ripple of suppressed anger moved through the crowd. They took our gifts and didn’t even buy us lunch? Though no one dared to shout, the resentment was written on their faces. A few disgruntled cultivators even began to stand, preparing to leave in a huff.

Wang Hao watched them, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Everyone,” he announced, his voice carrying over the grumbling. “The Wang family has prepared one final gift. I suggest you stay.”

He clapped his hands twice.

A rhythmic step echoed as rows of hand-picked mortal maidservants filed into the venue. They were young, graceful, and dressed in exquisite silks, but the cultivators’ eyes were immediately drawn to what they carried.

Trays were piled high with spiritual delicacies: the meat of exotic Grade 1 and Grade 2 beasts, rare mountain herbs, and fresh river catches prepared with alchemical precision. Platters of plump, glowing spiritual fruits were set down alongside jars of spiritual wine that radiated thick, visible waves of Spiritual Qi.

The collective sound of thousands of people swallowing their saliva filled the air.

The dissatisfied cultivators quickly sat back down. Their anger hadn’t vanished, but their pragmatism had taken over. If the Wang family was providing a feast of this caliber, they would eat until they were stuffed—if only to ensure the Wangs didn’t save a single copper on the bill.