Chapter Nineteen: The Jade Disc of Creation

The next day, the class held a test, and the results astonished everyone—Han Bingyan achieved a perfect score in both mathematics and Chinese, securing the top spot in the class. Li Xiaoyu was thrilled to discover that she had not been mistaken—Han Bingyan was indeed a clever child. This only deepened her suspicions about his usual behavior. Why did he always conceal his abilities? And… so many questions surged at once, prompting her to resolve that she must get to the bottom of it.

That day, Li Xiaoyu insisted on dragging Bingyan along and, together with Han Bingwu, made plans to visit the Han family. At first, Han Bingyan refused, but under Li Xiaoyu’s persuasive words, he had no choice but to nod reluctantly.

Soon, they arrived in front of a vast manor. Yet what happened next was beyond Li Xiaoyu’s belief.

With a cold clang, the iron gates barred any communication. The indifferent faces of the Han family members became etched deeply in Bingyan’s mind. He felt his heart gradually turning cold. Only now did he truly understand the contempt Han Bingruo had shown when first mentioning the Han family.

He recalled past visits during New Year, when relatives would warmly welcome his mother and sister while ignoring him, as if he possessed nothing to attract their attention, as if… he didn’t exist at all.

Han Bingyan sighed and blamed himself for overthinking, then returned alone to his lonely little room.

※※※Feather※※※Emperor※※※

On this day, Han Bingyan could not contain his excitement. He kept rising and sitting down, restless and uneasy. The reason was simple: the rare Feather Festival had finally arrived.

He went early to the Han family estate. This time, the gatekeepers did not trouble Bingyan and allowed him to enter directly. Arriving at the familiar martial arena, he found it packed with people. In a prominent spot, Han Bingyan spotted his younger sister, Han Bingran. After two years, the little girl had grown more beautiful, now possessing a delicate and budding charm.

By her sides were Han Qianyu and Han Qianyun, while Han Liang stood protectively in front of her.

The family priests were already prepared, and soon, a sacred relic draped in red was brought forth. “What is that?” Han Bingyan wondered, glancing around, but finding no one to ask, he buried the question in his heart.

As the red cloth was lifted, a flash of golden light streaked by, and exclamations erupted throughout the crowd. “The Jade Disc of Creation!” someone shouted, and a wave of murmurs followed.

“Look, it’s the Jade Disc of Creation!”

“What’s the Jade Disc of Creation?” someone unfamiliar asked.

He was met with scorn. “You don’t even know the Jade Disc of Creation? Are you really a member of the Han family? That’s our family’s greatest treasure, passed down since the Han family’s founding. It’s said to be the artifact that identifies the Feather Prophet in each generation!”

Han Bingyan ignored their chatter, but the important thing was now clear to him: this radiant golden tablet could indeed identify the Feather Prophet.

It was a true treasure, and an ancient one at that.

When the primordial chaos first gave birth to the Great Dao, Heaven received fifty strands of purple aura—there is the saying, “The Dao has fifty, Heaven manifests forty-nine, leaving one for all beings.” Twenty-four strands became Pangu and the Axe of Creation—sixteen for Pangu, eight for the axe—peerless treasures, equal to the Chaos Green Lotus (eight strands) and the Jade Disc of Creation (eight strands). That made forty in total; the remaining nine became the Cauldron of Heaven and Earth, the Map of Rivers and Mountains, and the five directional flags—innate spiritual treasures to stabilize the world.

Thus, possessing eight of the fifty, the Jade Disc of Creation was a treasure of unimaginable value, even if the Han family’s “Jade Disc of Creation” was but a fragment of the original—it was priceless.

“You all know the ancestral rules; I won’t repeat myself,” Han Liang announced sternly from the platform. “Let the ceremony begin.”

The crowd formed a line before the platform, each approaching in turn. No one dared to be careless, each slowly reaching towards the Jade Disc. Yet the disc remained unresponsive, and the testers could only sigh in disappointment and resignation. After all, if you were not the chosen one, what could you do?

Nearly two hours passed before everyone had finished. As Han Qianyu, Han Qianyun, and others had already been tested in the previous Feather Festival, they were exempt this time. Han Liang’s expression did not change. “Yao’er, your turn,” he said to Han Bingyao, who understood and stepped forward, holding her breath as she reached out toward the disc.

Nothing happened. The Jade Disc of Creation continued to shine, indifferent to her presence.

Han Bingyao sighed and shook her head, clearly disheartened.

“If it’s not yours, don’t force it,” Han Liang said quietly before turning to Han Bingran. “Ran’er.”

He called her with a warmth absent two years before, revealing just how much hope he placed in Han Bingran. She was the one Han Liang most anticipated. He believed that if the Feather Prophet were to appear in this generation, it would undoubtedly be Han Bingran. Calculations had confirmed that the Feather Prophet would emerge among them.

To Han Liang, this was a foregone conclusion—he was simply waiting for it to become reality.

Han Bingran slowly extended her fair, delicate hand and closed her eyes, focusing intently. Han Bingyan held his breath, awaiting the outcome. He didn’t know what he wished for: part of him hoped his sister was not the one, so he might have a chance to distinguish himself; yet another part hoped she was, not wanting her to be disappointed.

The result was cruel—at least for Han Liang and Han Bingran. She was not the one.

“How can this be?” Even Han Liang’s expression changed. “Every young member of the Han family has been tested—why is none of them the one?”

“No, Mother, there are still two who haven’t been tested,” Han Qianyun spoke up. “Who?” Han Liang asked, her composure slipping in her agitation.

“Bingyan, and Bingruo!” Han Qianyu answered, glancing at Han Bingyan in the crowd.

“Them? The boys?” In truth, Han Liang had always known that the Feather Prophet could only be a girl, as the prophet’s true qi was of the yin nature. A man’s innate attribute is yang—how could he possibly contain yin qi without it conflicting and causing harm? Yet the Han patriarchs had never revealed this truth, not wanting to dampen the hopes of the family’s sons—hope breeds motivation, after all.

“Yes,” Han Qianyu confirmed. “But it’s futile,” Han Liang murmured, then turned to the assembly. “This concludes the Feather Festival. As the prophet has not been found, I declare as head of the Han family that from now on, the festival will be held every two years until our prophet emerges.”