The day Zhang Jihang awakened an F-rank talent, the clan's meeting hall fell as silent as a grave.
Everyone remembered that ten years ago, this boy, now branded a useless waste, had led the clan safely through a crisis that could have wiped them out.
The elders wore pained expressions, while secretly dispatching elite guards to strengthen his protection.
His rivals celebrated, holding a party late into the night to proclaim the Zhang family's decline.
Zhang Jihang rubbed the faint F-rank glow at his fingertips, then suddenly smiled at the elders gathered before him.
"Do you all really think talent rank... can determine everything?"
Behind him, the clan's century-old genealogy flipped open without a breeze. New writing quietly appeared on the final page:
