Cangyun City.

Within the estate of the imperial Chen Family.

Inside the high-walled compound, a solemn atmosphere prevailed. People coming and going all carried an air of gravity, refraining from idle chatter and laughter. Occasionally, two or three people would gather in a corner to converse, but they did so in hushed tones, making every effort to keep their voices down.

In the most secluded southeast corner, a small courtyard meant for servants was heavily guarded. Among the uniformly black-clad guards, two elderly men in gray robes were particularly conspicuous. This was not only due to their attire but also their strength. Both men were of the twelfth rank. However, one was a Fist Master, and the other was a Sword Cultivator with a longsword on his back.

They sat on either side of the courtyard, making the already silent atmosphere feel deeply oppressive. Any members of the Chen family who passed by would halt their conversations and quicken their pace, only resuming their talk after putting a good distance between themselves and the courtyard. No one dared to even glance at it.

Day after day, year after year, the same scene had repeated itself for more than two decades.

TAP, TAP, TAP.

A little girl with a plump, round face and her hair in twin pigtails approached the courtyard. She appeared unhurried, but her demeanor betrayed a hint of nervousness and apprehension.

"Xiaoni, where are you headed?" a guard called out, stepping forward to block her path when she was still five meters away.

The two elderly men at the side both looked up at once.

"I have something I want to ask the person inside about the Ancestral Sword," said the little girl—Chen Mengyao, who had rushed back from Lingjin City overnight—pouting pitifully.

The guard smirked. "Retaking the Ancestral Sword is men's work. What's a little slip of a girl like you getting involved for?"

"Don't you look down on me! What's wrong with being a girl? Can't a girl have her own ambitions? Can't she dream of being recorded in the family annals?" Chen Mengyao held her head high, her expression a defiant and proud rebuke.

"Search her, then let her in," the old Sword Cultivator said, waving a hand.

Chen Mengyao's face immediately lit up with joy. "Thank you, Seventh Grandfather."

"You, you're just a playful girl," the old man with the sword chuckled, shaking his head.

After a thorough search confirmed she wasn't hiding anything, Chen Mengyao smoothly entered the courtyard. It was small, containing only a stone table, a pavilion, and a single house.

At one side of the stone table stood a middle-aged man in black. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted slightly upward. His gaze was unfocused, as if contemplating the ants on the tree above or the clouds drifting freely outside the courtyard.

"Uncle, I am your cousin's daughter, Chen Mengyao," she said, cautiously approaching the man with a tremor of fear in her voice.

The middle-aged man spoke indifferently. "My cultivation was crippled. I'm a broken man. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I… I…"

"Are you also here for the Ancestral Sword?"

"Shush!" Chen Mengyao made a silencing gesture and whispered, "I… I came for Chen Yang."

The middle-aged man whipped his head around, his deep, dark eyes, like the vast cosmos, fixing intently on Chen Mengyao. He projected no intimidating aura or imposing pressure, yet the sheer intensity of his stare caused her to break out in a cold sweat. She trembled uncontrollably, her hand instinctively finding the nearby stone table for support.

The man's gaze gradually softened as he spoke coolly, "You've seen him?"

"I went to Lingjin City yesterday." Chen Mengyao let out a huge sigh of relief and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, still shaken. "He killed Chen Zhi and his guards first. Then yesterday, he almost killed Chen Ke."

"What do you mean, 'almost'?"

"Chen Yang wanted to know how we were able to locate him, so he held back. That gave Chen Ke the chance to use the Blood Shadow Escape."

The middle-aged man nodded, his expression unchanging. "Then why are you unharmed?"

Chen Mengyao was left speechless.

"He was going to kill me," she finally managed, "but I pleaded with him. I kept calling him my cousin, and he finally relented."

The middle-aged man sighed, his face etched with disappointment. "Too soft-hearted. If he doesn't change, I'm afraid he'll suffer greatly in the future."

Chen Mengyao had no reply.

"However," the man continued, "his ability to easily kill a rank-eleven Fist Master did surprise me."

Feeling helpless, Chen Mengyao added, "Uncle, he… he seems to reject his identity. I repeatedly emphasized that he was my cousin, but he adamantly denied it, insisting that I had the wrong person."

"He didn't ask anything about you, either."

The middle-aged man turned his head away, once again gazing in the same direction as before. "Anyone would harbor resentment after being thrown into an orphanage for ten years. Besides, he's achieved a great deal and built his own life. It's only normal that he wouldn't want to get involved in our affairs."

"Uncle, aren't you worried about him?" Chen Mengyao asked. "After all, once the news of Chen Zhi's death and Chen Ke's ordeal gets back, the family will surely dispatch its top experts."

The Chen Family could not afford to lose the Ancestral Sword. It was one thing when its whereabouts were unknown, but now that a trace of it had appeared, the family would naturally seize the opportunity to reclaim it.

"This is his destiny," the middle-aged man said softly. "Either he will be shattered to pieces, or he will rise against the current!"

"I feel like my cousin's life is so pitiful," Chen Mengyao mumbled, pursing her lips as she thought about what Chen Yang was about to face.

The middle-aged man said nothing more, but the hands clasped behind his back trembled uncontrollably.

Having said all she needed to, Chen Mengyao quietly departed.

"I have wronged you. It was my uselessness that caused you to wander the world alone, suffering all its hardships," the middle-aged man murmured, slowly turning to walk toward the house. His expression grew resolute. "But you are a child of I, Chen Zedong. I believe you will fight your way back."

"You'll kill them until a river of blood flows!"

…

「On the twenty-ninth.」

In the streets and alleys, fleets of wedding carriages were accompanied by the clamor of gongs and drums. Taking advantage of the approaching festival when relatives and friends had all returned home, many people chose to hold grand feasts during the final days of the holiday.

The Feiyang Martial Arts School was no exception.

Today was the day the Feiyang Martial Arts School was moving to its new location.

As soon as the news broke, countless people were stirred into action, flocking toward the school's new site. It could be said that, aside from a certain mysterious powerhouse, this was the only force that dared to openly defy the Martial Association. One didn't need to think hard to know that the Martial Association would not turn a blind eye. Some well-connected individuals had already received word that the Martial Association had dispatched its people.

So, what would today's grand opening turn into?

Countless people waited with bated breath.

In front of the enormous new building, the four large characters for "Feiyang Martial Arts School" shone brilliantly. Li Zhendong stood at the entrance, leading a group of disciples to personally welcome the guests.

In the distance, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of onlookers crowded the entire sidewalk and bike lane, a dense sea of people that made the area impassable.

"The Martial Association has come to offer congratulations!"

A sudden shout cut through the bustle, silencing the scene.

Following the announcement, a group with a commanding presence appeared. They wore matching uniforms with the words "Martial Association" emblazoned on their chests, clearly identifying their affiliation. They lined up on both sides of the main entrance, clearing a wide path.

Then, a tall woman in black, her demeanor as cold as ancient ice, strode forward.

"We present a pair of flower baskets and a golden plaque!"

With this shout, several disciples carrying flower baskets and a plaque emerged into view.

Before the crowd could even express their astonishment, their eyes fell upon the words on the golden plaque. All at once, their eyes widened, looking as if they might pop out of their heads.

Inscribed on the plaque were the words:

Martial Association Lingjin City Branch.

They're… they're playing hardball right from the start?

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