Over a decade ago, Charles Bennett was just an ordinary member of the The Bennett Residence clan. However, after the King of Qingzhou, Gai Tianhao, recognized William Bennett as his adopted son, with his help, Charles Bennett experienced a second bloodline awakening, manifesting the “Blood Thought”—and it was even a “Tiger Vein Blood Thought.” Thus, he entered the lower “Human Martial Realm,” becoming an ordinary elder of the The Bennett Residence.

A year later, his cultivation advanced again to the mid Human Martial Realm, and from then on, he joined the The Bennett Residence Elders’ Council. Since the old residence was too small, he moved into the branch courtyard assigned to elders by the The Bennett Residence—the Qingxiao Residence.

The old house was left for Third Great-Uncle Nick Bennett and his family to live in, and to look after the place. Nick Bennett was somewhat senile, barely uttering a word even if beaten with three sticks. All the words he spoke in a year wouldn’t add up to more than a hundred sentences. Many members of the Ye family thought he was mute.

The old house was built entirely of blue granite stones, somewhat resembling a traditional Chinese siheyuan. Of course, compared to the “Qingxiao Residence,” the courtyard was smaller.

However, it still covered nearly 10 mu. In recent years, as Charles Bennett’s reputation grew, he spent money to acquire the surrounding mountains and some flat land, expanding the courtyard outward. Now, the estate covered nearly 30 mu.

Charles Bennett nodded to Third Great-Uncle and turned to head toward the back of the courtyard.

Soon, he stopped in front of a small hut with a thatched roof. William Bennett remembered this should be the woodshed.

However, at this moment, a short old man was squatting on the stone mill in front of the hut. Like all old people, his face was wrinkled. Moreover, there were several deep knife scars on his face, making him look rather frightening.

The old man was puffing on a two-meter-long dry tobacco pipe, one end resting on the stone mill. Sparks crackled as he smoked. A pungent, spicy smell of tobacco filled the area around the hut.

“Uncle Tian, I’ve brought him,” said Charles Bennett.

“Mm.” Uncle William swept his dim eyes over Charles Bennett and nodded slightly. So, Charles Bennett led William Bennett into the woodshed.

Inside, the room was piled with long-split firewood, thatch for kindling, and some dirty miscellaneous items. Charles Bennett carefully moved aside some pieces of firewood, and soon, a hole was revealed.

“That’s it.” Charles Bennett nodded and crawled in first, with William Bennett following behind.

The tunnel was filled with a musty smell, and the two held their breath as they moved. Mice had long made their nests here, and some were as big as puppies. When they saw intruders, they attacked fiercely and madly.

But Charles Bennett slapped a few dead with his palm, scaring the rest into a frantic escape. Charles Bennett lifted the rotten grass covering the mouse nest, and soon, an ordinary stone lid the size of an iron pot was revealed. He carefully lifted it, exposing a black hole beneath.

The two went down.

Soon, they turned a corner.

“Remember my method of opening the way. Remember it well—never tell anyone,” Charles Bennett said, his expression growing even more serious as he opened several more lids. Some of the lids required a “drop of blood” before they could be moved. Each time, Charles Bennett had William Bennett produce a few drops of fresh blood.

Why didn’t Dad use his own blood? William Bennett wondered, but since his father didn’t explain, William Bennett didn’t press further. He figured there must be some secret inside.

After passing through several doors, they finally slid down into an underground chamber.

The secret chamber was entirely stone and empty. However, in the center of the chamber sat a person cross-legged—this strange sight startled William Bennett. Looking closer, it was a wrinkled old man. But the old man wore a crown on his head and draped over his body was a pale yellow robe with golden trim, embroidered with a dragon.

William Bennett was shocked again, because anyone who could wear such a robe was of extraordinary status. Although the Zhao royal family’s control over the country wasn’t as strict as in modern society—

After all, powerful people were everywhere in Zhao. There were mighty academies, sects, aristocratic families, countless factions, and even lone martial artists with exceptional skills. So, the management was rather loose; as long as no one threatened the royal family’s position, most things were overlooked. Even murder was often ignored.

However, the Zhao royal family had very strict rules regarding royal dignity.

For example, in terms of attire. The robe draped over the old man in the underground chamber could only be worn by ministers of prince rank or higher. Otherwise, if anyone else wore such a robe, they would surely be hunted down and killed by the royal family’s elite.

Of course, the main distinguishing feature of this robe was the dragon embroidered on it, symbolizing royal authority.

As long as there was no dragon embroidered, no one cared if you wore a yellow robe.

The “dragon” was the supreme symbol of power for the Zhao royal family, and no faction, academy, or even aristocratic family below the required status was allowed to wear it. Once, a powerful “Heavenly Martial Realm” expert, arrogant and self-important, made his own dragon robe and wore it. Not long after, the Zhao royal family issued a “Destruction Decree” against him.

In the end, pursued by the Zhao royal family’s personal guard, the “Yellow-Clad Guards,” he fled abroad but was still killed, and his head was displayed in the capital for a whole month.

The Yellow-Clad Guards were the Zhao royal family’s personal guard, and also the most powerful imperial troops in Zhao. They were directly controlled by the Emperor Zhao himself, and all members were top experts. The minimum requirement to join was the Earth Martial Realm. They were somewhat similar to the Jinyiwei of ancient China.