The clamorous birthday banquet finally drew to a close, and the guests departed with full enjoyment. The vast Qin Residence gradually fell silent, leaving only the soft rustle of servants tidying up. Inside the main bedroom, the lamps were still brightly lit.

Li Shu'e sat before her dressing table, a maid helping her remove the intricate hairpins and bracelets. The bronze mirror reflected her faintly reproachful profile as she turned to her husband at the table:

"My lord, today you... were far too abrupt. Miss Fang is a fine young lady, but you ought to have discussed it with me first, to prepare the proper formalities and betrothal gifts. Proposing marriage so hastily—it not only lacks proper decorum; outsiders will see it as our Qin family being overly eager."

Qin Lu, drawn back from his own thoughts by his wife's voice, turned his head with a mischievous grin, teasing her lightly:

"Madam, you are mistaken. Wanlin himself admitted his affection for the Fang daughter, a mutual love. I, as his father, merely gave a push downstream and brought about a wonderful match. Isn't that a delight? As for decorum..." He gave a light snort, his tone carrying unquestionable confidence. "Does our Qin family still need to watch others' faces in this city? That old fellow Fang Tongli is probably overjoyed to the point of losing his bearings; why would he mind such trifles? Madam, rest easy and look forward to becoming a mother-in-law!"

Li Shu'e was caught between laughter and tears at her husband's indolent yet overbearing retort. She wanted to argue further, but Qin Lu had already risen and said:

"Alright, you're tired too. Rest early. I... still have some accounts to go over."

Helpless, Li Shu'e sighed and allowed the maid to help her to the inner chamber to sleep. At the door, she couldn't help turning back to remind him:

"My lord, don't stay up too late either."

"I know." Qin Lu answered casually, watching his wife's figure disappear behind the door.

The soft click of the door closing was like a signal. The lazy, carefree look on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a fanatical, probing gleam in his eyes. He strode quickly to his desk, sat down, and dismissed the attendants with a wave of his hand.

‘System!’

He silently recited, and that translucent system interface again surfaced in his mind. It was still the familiar quest interface, the same layout, but the side quest had discreetly updated:

[Side Quest 2: Playing with Grandchildren]

[Objective: The family welcomes a third-generation offspring. '0/1']

[Reward: 30 points of Clan Fortune]

‘Ah? A grandfather?’

Qin Lu stared at that line, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably. This damn system... was really far too impatient! Wanlin had just gotten engaged; the bride hadn't even crossed the threshold yet! And it was already thinking about holding a grandson? Even with his resolute will, he was momentarily speechless, choked by this quest. A third-generation offspring... those 30 points of Clan Fortune would take at least nearly ten months to obtain, far more troublesome than the earlier [Pulling the Thread of a Fine Match]. The latter he could accomplish with a few words; but for a grandchild... what could he do besides wait?

He steadied himself, shifting his gaze away from the quest and back to his eldest son Qin Wanlin's talent panel. For all five children, the panels were a distressing string of zeros: no spiritual root, no cultivation, no technique, no talent. Only Qin Wanlin, in the talent column, conspicuously displayed:

[Talent: Cunning Mind [45%]]

‘Talent…’

Qin Lu's fingers tapped absently on the desk as his pre-transmigration memory fragments interwove with the vague understanding he had gleaned from over a decade of scraping at the bottom of the cultivation world. A spiritual root was the sole key to pry open the gates of the immortal path. It determined whether a mortal could sense and absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, embarking on that transcendent road.

Without a spiritual root, no matter what methods one possessed, no matter how unwilling one was, it was ultimately all flowers in a mirror, the moon's reflection on water. The attribute and quality of the spiritual root further decided the speed of cultivation and the height one could ultimately reach. Qin Lu's Ninth-Grade Absolute Spiritual Root was the most bitter example. Over a dozen years, he had merely climbed from the second layer of Qi Refining to the third—every step arduous.

Talent, on the other hand, seemed entirely different. It had nothing to do with the fundamentals of cultivation, manifesting more in intellect, fortune, or some profoundly mysterious survival instinct. Wanlin's [Cunning Mind] seemed more like a mental trait. Qin Lu recalled that his son, though bright as a child, was only slightly more composed than his peers. In recent years, especially after he began handling the family business and mingling with the scions of various local powers, this talent had been like a dust-covered pearl being polished, emitting ever more dazzling brilliance.

‘Everyone's talent is different... Wanlin's Cunning Mind is perhaps the innate reason he excels at scheming and socializing. With age and experience, this talent gradually reveals itself. Now at 45% awakening, what magnificent sight will it be when fully realized?’

Just as he was lost in these thoughts, a few restrained knocks sounded at the door.

"Father, are you not yet resting?" It was Qin Wanlin's voice.

The door opened, and Qin Wanlin stepped in. He had already changed out of the fine robes worn for entertaining guests, now wearing a simple, clean brocade house robe. His face bore a slight tipsy flush from drinking, but his eyes remained clear and calm.

He bowed respectfully: "Father, the guests have all been seen off, and all matters in the residence have been properly arranged. I have come to report."

"Mm, well done. Sit."

Qin Lu gestured to a nearby chair, his gaze falling seemingly casually on his son, while his intent had already opened Qin Wanlin's panel again.

Qin Wanlin sat as instructed, his posture composed. Seeing his father deep in thought, he quietly waited, hands folded, his gentle temperament entirely natural.

[Name: Qin Wanlin]

[Spiritual Root: None]

[Cultivation: None]

[Technique: None]

[Talent: Cunning Mind [45%]]

His gaze fixed on the glaring [Spiritual Root: None], and a sharp look flashed in Qin Lu's eyes. Let's test it! Father will help you pry open this door!

His intent instantly locked onto the spiritual root entry and his mind urged action. The panel immediately popped up a box:

[Please select Clan Fortune points to consume: ___]

Without a moment's hesitation, Qin Lu entered a number he deemed sufficient to spur change: 10 points.

[Confirm consumption of 10 points of Clan Fortune to attempt raising/activating target spiritual root?]

‘Confirmed!’

He saw the place that originally displayed [Spiritual Root: None] writhe and blur violently. Then, a line of text flickering with faint golden light, as if breaking free from a cocoon, clearly emerged:

[Spiritual Root: Inactive [20%]]

So that's how it is! Qin Lu instantly understood. Ten points of Clan Fortune had advanced the progress by 20 percentage points. One point of Clan Fortune equals 2% activation progress. Without a doubt, when the progress fully reached 100%, that would be the day Qin Wanlin's spiritual root awakened!

‘Continue, invest all remaining!’ Qin Lu's intent was like lightning, locking on once more. ‘Consume Clan Fortune to increase spiritual root activation probability!’

[Please select Clan Fortune points to consume: ___]

Qin Lu, without hesitation, entered 20.

[Confirm consumption of 20 points of Clan Fortune to attempt raising/activating target spiritual root?]

‘Confirmed!’

He watched as the text [Spiritual Root: Inactive [20%] ], after intense fluctuation, blazed with golden light. The percentage digits leaped wildly like a runaway horse: 25%... 35%... 45%... 55%... and finally, they firmly settled on:

[Spiritual Root: Inactive [60%]]