The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

"Well, I expected as much."

Just as everyone began to relax, their tension easing as they turned toward the blind young man in the wheelchair for answers, a sudden shift froze them in their tracks. Their gazes lifted to the sky, where the destroyed arrow had inexplicably reformed—shaping itself into a colossal image of Lianchen.

"Don't bother talking—this is a pre-recording," Lianchen said with a laugh. "Imagine if I destroyed this organization and this recording ended up playing for no one to hear... now that would be embarrassing."

"Anyways, your organization has dared to offend me on my own birthday. At first, I was going to give your leader three days to come and apologize, but... let's cut that down to one. I don't like waiting." Lianchen paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I could be harsher, but strangely, I'm not in such a bad mood today—lucky for you."

A mocking smirk grew. "Still, apologizing won't be enough. You'll need to fix the damage you've caused—both to the city and to the people affected by the clash between me and your former pet."

"Again, I give you all one day. Fail to please me, and you'll end up just like the Song clan." Lianchen's relaxed smile didn't waver, but his tone carried a chilling finality. "You knew the risks, and yet you chose my birthday of all days to act. Well, that's all I have to say. I'll be looking forward to your next move." With that, he vanished.

It didn't take long for an emergency meeting to be called among the higher-ups of the Radiant Sun. These were cultivators who had surpassed the Nascent Soul realm, reaching the mighty Soul Ascension realm. While those in the Nascent Soul realm could level mountains and tear apart the land, Soul Ascension cultivators possessed the power to level countries without much effort.

"How was it ever a smart move to provoke someone like that brat, especially at such a time?" one of the Ancestors of the Radiant Sun demanded, his gaze fixed on the current leader—a blind young man seated in a wheelchair.

Everyone present was capable of peering into the secrets of heaven, granting them insight into Zhou Lianchen's past actions and deeds. What they saw painted a clear picture: that kid wasn't just dangerous, he was a monster.

"Zhou Lianchen is someone who cannot be controlled," the blind young man said calmly, his voice steady and unyielding. "He's an arrogant, cocky prince who does whatever he pleases. I have reason to believe the Heaven Splitting Sect has already reached out to him—but he rejected them."

"The white cat?" the leader of the Radiant Sun asked, a note of understanding in his tone.

The blind young man nodded in confirmation.

"Zhu Yue's mission was simple: to assess Lianchen's current capabilities—his limits, his weaknesses, and anything else we could exploit," the blind young man said, his tone tinged with helplessness. "From there, I intended to eliminate him before he could spiral out of control... but she never even got the chance to test him. He seized control of the situation completely."

His words left everyone in the room frowning, the weight of the miscalculation heavy in the air.

"Ming Lan's actions were justified," another Ancestor interjected, though his expression remained displeased. "Still, I would have preferred if he had approached this sooner."

"I couldn't act sooner" Ming Lan said lightly, his tone calm but firm. "Our attention was divided—the movements of the Heaven Splitting Sect and the Demon Realm demanded focus. I didn't even consider the prince a threat until the Song clan incident. It was then I realized that kid was a monster—to have accomplished something like that, even with a destroyed Dao."

"But you still had nearly a month to act. Why wait until the brat recovered from his backlash?" a muscular man asked, his voice calm but with an edge of criticism. "The birthday celebration was the worst time to confront someone with such a short temper and an almost reckless love for battle. Someone like that doesn't just enjoy fighting—they live for it. That kid deliberately weakened himself just to enjoy a fight during that tournament. He doesn't fear death; what he fears is dying outside of a thrilling battle."

His words hung in the air, and no one looked surprised. This man, like Lianchen, shared a love for the thrill of combat. It was precisely because of this shared passion that many trusted his judgment—he could understand Lianchen on a level that the others couldn't, connecting with the mindset of someone who saw battle as life's greatest pursuit.

"That..." Ming Lan hesitated before continuing, his tone thoughtful. "I spent those 28 days analyzing every detail I could find about Lianchen. My focus was primarily on discovering who his mother is. Frankly, I find it hard to believe that the Zhou Emperor's bloodline alone produced someone like Lianchen. There has to be something extraordinary on his mother's side."

His words drew the attention of the room, sparking a ripple of unease as they realized they had overlooked such a critical detail.

"I found nothing about her," Ming Lan admitted, shaking his head. "I even revisited the emperor's story about meeting a mysterious woman while traveling. It was a complete fabrication."

The room fell into silence, the weight of Lianchen's enigmatic lineage settling heavily over the gathered leaders.

They turned their attention to heaven's secrets, attempting to uncover the identity of Lianchen's mother. Yet, no matter how hard they searched, they found nothing—no trace of her existence. It was as if such a person had never been. Instead, heaven itself seemed to suggest that the emperor was both Lianchen's mother and father.

Of course, none of them believed this explanation, especially since even heaven appeared uncertain about its own claim.

"What did you find?" someone finally asked, the tension in the room palpable. The image of Lianchen in their minds had grown even larger, his mystery deepening and his significance becoming all the more unsettling.

"I turned my focus to Lan Mei," Ming Lan began, his voice steady but laced with intrigue. "She became a maid just three months before Lianchen's birth. During that time, she was frequently seen with someone—someone I believe might be Lianchen's mother. What's particularly noteworthy is the way the Emperor acted in the three months leading up to Lianchen's birth after that person's arrival."

His words deepened the room's silence, the leaders exchanging wary glances before once again delving into heaven's secrets to uncover the truth of those pivotal months.

Indeed, the Emperor's behavior during those three months was odd. Though he tried to maintain a facade of calm, there were clear signs of fear beneath the surface. More troubling, there were gaps in the records of the Emperor's life during that time—blanks that seemed deliberately erased, as if to conceal some critical secret.

What stood out most, however, was the Emperor's apparent fear of Lan Mei. They noticed how no one seemed to acknowledge her presence unless she wanted to be noticed. Even the Emperor, when aware of her, appeared tense and unusually respectful.

"Taking all of that into account—and considering the fact that Lianchen possesses so many techniques that don't exist in this world—I came to a startling conclusion: he isn't from our world," Ming Lan said, his tone measured. "Of course, it's just a working theory. After all, Lianchen claims he created these techniques himself."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room. "But we can see it clearly—Lianchen doesn't engage in the rigorous training needed to develop such techniques. Unless he's somehow creating them entirely within his mind, it should be impossible."

"Anyways, thanks to Zhu Yue's actions, I've been able to determine my next steps," Ming Lan said with a deep sigh. "We cannot afford to offend Lianchen until we have more information about him. For all we know, he could be the son of a powerful expert sent to our small world to gain experience. As hard as that might be to believe, the mere fact that there's evidence supporting it is frightening enough."

He paused, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. The inability to voice his full thoughts about Lianchen gnawed at him, leaving an unsettling weight in the room.

Ming Lan was certain—Lianchen didn't originate from this small world. In fact, he was convinced that Lianchen carried the bloodline of a powerful clan from beyond their small world. How else could someone so young possess such overwhelming talent? Could this small world truly hope to give rise to such a monster?

A part of him even wondered if Lianchen might be the descendant of an immortal, sent to this small world for reasons unknown. That would explain the absurdly powerful techniques Lianchen wielded. Ming Lan suspected Lianchen also had an equally overpowered cultivation art to complement his abilities.

But that thought was too terrifying to fully accept, so he pushed it aside, refusing to let it take root in his mind.