Chapter 7: He Will Never Let Them Get Away With This!
Perhaps sensing Li Xiaolian’s gentle demeanor, Jin Duanhong relaxed considerably, his speech becoming far less strained.
"We knew we might not successfully place in the rankings this time, but Grandfather said the Jin family has stayed in the Southern Wilds for too long. We needed to come out and see the world."
Li Xiaolian chuckled, nodding approvingly. "I met your grandfather once years ago. He is a straightforward, upright man. May I ask how the Chen family of Jinling is related to you?"
"My second uncle married into the Chen family as a matrilocal husband. We are staying with them for this trip."
To many prideful men, marrying into a wife's family was considered a deep humiliation, but Jin Duanhong spoke of it openly and casually, without a shred of shame. "My second aunt dotes on my uncle completely, so the Chen family treats us exceptionally well by extension."
Li Yuezhou listened with keen interest from the side. Even in the modern world, becoming a live-in son-in-law was often treated as a taboo subject, something many men refused to even speak of without losing their tempers.
Personally, he saw nothing wrong with it. Two people came together simply to build a new life; why obsess over who was marrying into whose family?
Hearing that this Jin family uncle genuinely enjoyed his life, Li Yuezhou figured the couple must be quite charming.
After offering a few more comforting words, Li Xiaolian waved his hand and instructed a servant to lead Jin Duanhong away to pick out a few small trinkets, a minor compensation for the disturbance caused by capturing Wan Renfeng earlier.
Once only the three of them remained in the room, Li Xiaolian rubbed his temples, a headache clearly coming on.
"Father... hurting?"
Li Yuezhou rolled his wheelchair closer to his father's side, tilting his dark eyes upward. The worry in his gaze was unmistakable.
"Hahaha, Father is fine. The tournament is already halfway through. Once this round concludes, we will have lunch, and the matches will resume in the afternoon."
"Brother... eat... with me."
Lu Zhaoye was only too eager to agree. He glanced outside; the commotion inside the private room had not disrupted the grand tournament. The morning group had finished their matches, and the final arena champion had been selected, allowing everyone a brief intermission.
The tournament had its own designated stewards to maintain order, allowing Li Xiaolian to act as a hands-off manager, he only needed to ensure there was no favoritism or cheating.
Servants carrying food trays moved in and out like a school of swift fish. This grand tournament was not only a monumental opportunity for the martial world, but also a stark warning to those with malicious intent. the Martial Arts Alliance’s strength stood firm and unshakeable.
Lu Zhaoye and Li Xiaolian pushed Li Yuezhou to a different spot, as the floorboards where Wan Renshan had slammed his broadsword now bore a massive indentation, making it rather inconvenient to eat there.
Fortunately, the tournament had drawn countless skilled artisans, meaning the repairs would be finished in no time.
Li Yuezhou ate his food slowly. His hands were still not entirely agile, but feeding himself independently was no longer an issue.
Over this period, he could clearly feel his physical health improving, and his mind felt sharper than ever before.
Lu Zhaoye ate while concurrently placing choice morsels of food into Li Yuezhou’s bowl, a sight that filled the observing Li Xiaolian with immense gratification.
To him, seeing his two sons get along so harmoniously was the greatest comfort. It ensured that when his time came, he could face his late wife and dearest friend in the afterlife with a clear conscience.
"Brother... when?"
Lu Zhaoye smiled warmly. "My match is the day after tomorrow."
"Oh," Li Yuezhou murmured, taking a few more bites before asking, "Will you... practice?"
"Hmm? Are you asking if I will still train over the next couple of days?"
"Mm-hmm."
Lu Zhaoye chuckled, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind Li Yuezhou’s ear. "I will, but only in private. No sparring is permitted outside the official matches during the tournament."
"Want to see!"
Lu Zhaoye glanced at Li Xiaolian, who merely waved his hand, explicitly leaving the decision to the young men.
"Alright. Once we finish eating, I will take you there."
The meal concluded in a warm, familial atmosphere. Li Xiaolian departed first to handle official matters. Lu Zhaoye peered outside; though it was late spring turning into early summer, a cool breeze still swept through the air from time to time.
Given Li Yuezhou’s fragile constitution, they had to be extra cautious. With this in mind, Lu Zhaoye retrieved a cloak and wrapped it securely around the boy. Looking at the youth sitting quietly in his wheelchair wrapped in the pure white cloak, a flash of genuine admiration crossed Lu Zhaoye's eyes.
He had always known Li Yuezhou was exceptionally beautiful, both his godfather and godmother were striking people, so their child could never be plain. Yet in the past, the boy's face had always been completely vacant, his eyes hollow and expressionless, like a porcelain doll left to the whims of others.
Exquisite, but entirely devoid of life.
Now, however, everything was different. The features remained the same, but the eyes sparkled with vitality. His cheeks were still a bit hollow from illness. he would look even better once he gained some weight.
Whenever Li Yuezhou spoke, he would look directly into the other person's eyes with absolute focus and sincerity. Lu Zhaoye could not help but marvel at how such a breathtakingly beautiful youth could exist, thinking to himself that perhaps the boy's first eighteen years of suffering were merely a trial before this awakening.
The two arrived at the rear mountains of the Martial Arts Alliance. Li Xiaolian had cleared this area out specifically to serve as a private training field, and because of the ongoing tournament, it was entirely deserted.
Lu Zhaoye selected a secluded spot and said with a smile, "No one comes out this way. You can practice walking here if you like, Zhou'er."
Li Yuezhou nodded. Supporting himself against a nearby wall, he stood up and began taking slow, deliberate steps.
Seeing that his footing was reasonably stable, Lu Zhaoye turned his attention away, drew his sword, and walked to the clearing.
The sun was high and bright, casting brilliant light across the earth. Shadows barely clung to the narrow crevices of the bluestone paths, leaving the rest of the grounds fully illuminated.
Yet, the sunlight at this time of year remained gentle and comforting, wrapping around them with a pleasant warmth without being stiflingly hot.
Li Yuezhou pulled his cloak tighter and slowly walked into the sunlight, basking in its glow.
It felt as though every pore on his body was opening up. He loved the sun.
Sunbathing gave him a tangible sense of being alive. His past life had been far too dark, so damp and gloomy that he had often felt like a sewer rat that had accidentally been born human. On rare days of good weather, he used to drag himself out to lie on the grass.
Here, there were no sudden flowerpots falling from the sky, no unexpected steps to trip over, and no rogue vehicles barreling toward him. There was only the sun.
It was a constant reminder: You are alive. You are a human being, not a foul creature lurking in the dark.
Li Yuezhou turned his gaze toward the clearing. The youth standing in the sunlight was not overly muscular, yet he was far from frail; his physique was lean, toned, and perfectly proportioned. Just looking at his posture, straight and unyielding as a pine tree, was a sight to behold.
Dressed in a pitch-black training uniform, the intricate patterns embroidered along his collar, cuffs, and hem gleamed under the sunlight, displaying the emblem of the Martial Arts Alliance: a steadfast bamboo stalk beneath a bright, clear moon.
With his posture perfectly erect, Lu Zhaoye held his sword in a single hand, standing motionless on the open bluestone path. His chest rose and fell in a minute, controlled rhythm as he focused his breathing and centered his mind.
With a slight, subtle flick of his wrist, his sword sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. The movements were entirely devoid of useless flash, they were steady, precise, and lethal.
These techniques seemed etched into his very bones, flowing seamlessly from one form into the next.
Though the sword-wind blew fiercely, it never strayed close enough to harm Li Yuezhou. As Lu Zhaoye moved, his robes fluttered dramatically. The dark blade, matching the color of his attire, spun into beautiful, intricate patterns. The strikes were so blindingly fast that even without blinking, one could scarcely track the trajectory of the blade.
The whistling wind and the resonance of the blade harmonized perfectly, isolating that single patch of earth into a world entirely its own.
As the final form concluded, the youth’s hair settled back along his spine, and beads of sweat rolled from his forehead, splashing onto the stone.
He lowered his longsword to his side, his breathing slightly heavy. He looked like a solitary pine tree, seemingly inconspicuous within the vastness of the world, yet utterly unbending.
Li Yuezhou was entirely mesmerized. The martial arts choreography in television dramas was certainly spectacular, but watching this scene made him realize those performances lacked a soul.
Compared to this, what did those dances even matter? This was true martial arts; this was authentic kung fu.
Lu Zhaoye wiped the sweat from his face and walked toward Li Yuezhou. As their eyes met, the intensity of their gaze felt even more scorching than the midday sun.
A single, overlooked drop of sweat traced down Lu Zhaoye's jawline and fell to the ground, bursting into a transparent flower on the stone.
---
Splat.
A vivid crimson flower bloomed, staining the floorboards.
Wan Renshan sat heavily in his chair, panting with rage. Prone on the floor before him lay a figure covered entirely in blood.
Wan Renfeng was barely breathing, drawing in shallow, ragged gasps. To the side, a glamorous woman’s eyes were red with unshed tears, yet she dared not step forward.
"Do you recognize your mistake?!" Wan Renshan roared.
He slammed his massive palm onto the armrest. The half-dead figure on the floor flinched violently but could make no sound.
"Master! Feng'er can't even speak anymore! Why must you treat him with such cruelty?!" the woman sobbed hoarsely. Her tear-streaked, pitiful appearance failed to elicit any sympathy from Wan Renshan, only worsening his irritation.
"Why? The legacy that generations of my Cheongsan Hall worked to build has been utterly ruined by him alone! Do you have any idea why Cheongsan Hall has stood firm in the martial world for so many years without being replaced? It is precisely because of our irreplaceable forging techniques! How could he be so foolish?!"
The woman clamped her mouth shut, not daring to utter another word. She held absolutely no status within Cheongsan Hall; had she not given birth to this only son, her fate would likely be no different from the other women who had quietly vanished into the rear courtyards over the years.
Wan Renfeng stirred slightly. Noticing the movement, Wan Renshan let out a heavy sigh. "Someone come! Take the Young Master down and see that he is properly cared for."
The moment his voice fell, several burly servants entered, efficiently lifting Wan Renfeng and carrying him away.
Seeing this, the woman lowered her head to wipe her tears, then leaned softly against Wan Renshan’s side. "Master, what exactly happened to cause such immense fury?"
As she spoke, her hand slipped onto his upper arm. Her soft, supple touch and the faint, alluring scent of her perfume gradually mollified Wan Renshan’s temper.
"Look at the fine son you raised. Our entire livelihood relies on Cheongsan Hall, yet he had the audacity to secretly cut corners and use inferior materials! If we hadn't gone to the Martial Arts Alliance today and been called out on it, there's no telling how catastrophic a disaster he would have caused!"
The woman let out a soft sigh, her delicate brows knitting slightly as she offered gentle reassurances. "So that was the cause. You frightened me to death just now. But if Feng'er truly committed such a wrong, it is only right that you punish him, Master."
"At least you are sensible."
Wan Renshan fell silent, his mind racing as he calculated how to address this matter with Li Xiaolian. If he tried to hide it... No, hiding it was out of the question. He had to disclose everything honestly; otherwise, Cheongsan Hall would truly be finished.
He glanced down at the woman resting against him. Her pampered, porcelain fingers rested lightly against his chest. Though her beauty had faded slightly compared to her youth, she still possessed a distinct charm.
Yet, his mind suddenly flashed to someone else.
That face... It was almost identical to hers. Exquisitely beautiful, though her temperament had been far too wretched. But if she had been the one to raise a child, would that child have turned out gentler, more obedient?
The thought sparked a sudden, restless urge in Wan Renshan's chest. Reaching out with a powerful arm, he scooped the woman up into his embrace.
Caught off guard, the woman let out a sharp gasp, follow by a playful, petulant protest, though a flash of venomous malice flickered in her eyes.
Meanwhile, back in his quarters, Wan Renfeng’s ears twitched. He waited until the footsteps of the servants faded completely before opening his eyes. His dark irises had turned entirely bloodshot, obscured by a mixture of blood and raw fury.
He pushed himself up, testing the flow of his internal energy. Beneath his pale skin, his veins were distinctly visible, rippling with a bizarre, unsettling red hue that looked downright monstrous.
His father still possessed a shred of familial affection; at the very least, he hadn't destroyed his martial cultivation. However, the reckoning from the Martial Arts Alliance remained unavoidable.
Resentment festered within Wan Renfeng, his eyes thoroughly consumed by hatred.
Lu Zhaoye, Li Xiaolian... and that beautiful cripple. If it weren't for them, how could he have ended up in such a wretched, humiliated state?
He would never let any of them get away with this!
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