C2 Kung Fu Was a Killing Technique!

In Emergence City, within the Shen family's council chamber, a middle-aged man clad in a fur coat occupied the Patriarch's seat, a subtle smile gracing his features. He was Shen Wentao, the Head Butler and acting Patriarch of the Shen family, who had today officially assumed the title in both name and deed.

"Patriarch Shen, I believe tomorrow is an auspicious day, perfect for a wedding. Once the ceremony is complete, the Han and Shen families will be united. What are your thoughts?" Han Feng, seated at the head of the table to the left, addressed Shen Wentao. As the Young Patriarch of the Han family and a celebrated figure among Emergence City's youth, twenty-year-old Han Feng was a man of considerable influence. Flanking him were two young men, including Han Dao, the Han family's third son.

"Why should I be forced to marry him? I refuse, even unto death. My brother will emerge from seclusion soon; what right do you have to decide my fate?" The voice came from a frail little girl in a wheelchair positioned to the side of the chamber. Despite her spirited protest, her voice betrayed her weakness. She was Shen Xiaomei, the eleven-year-old biological sister of Shen Xuan, who had been plagued by illness from a young age and confined to a wheelchair for the past three years.

"Hmm? Refusing to marry into my Han family—are you scorning us?" Han Feng's gaze turned icy as he stared down at Shen Xiaomei, his words sharp and cold.

"Insolence! Children should be seen and not heard when adults are speaking. Leave us," Shen Wentao commanded, his voice booming across the room.

"Don't worry, little sister, I'll take good care of you," Han Dao interjected with a sleazy grin, rubbing his hands together.

"I won't marry him, not for anything in the world," Shen Xiaomei declared defiantly.

The younger members of the Shen family looked on, their fists clenched and faces flushed with anger. They knew all too well the kind of man Han Dao was; marrying Shen Xiaomei to him would be tantamount to condemning her. Yet, constrained by Shen Wentao's authority, they seethed in silence.

"Marriage is a union between two families, and it's not up to you to consent," Shen Wentao declared dismissively, sweeping his sleeve with finality. But before the echo of his words had faded, a voice from outside the chamber challenged him.

"And whose consent is required, then?"

The voice was soft, yet it cut through the tension, compelling all present to shift their attention toward the entrance.

There, a black-robed youth stood at the threshold of the meeting hall. His stature was lean, his features not strikingly handsome but undeniably refined. The depth and darkness of his eyes, set beneath thick brows, hinted at a maturity well beyond his years.

"Brother!" Upon seeing the figure at the door, Shen Xiaomei wheeled herself out to greet him, tears glistening in her eyes as she mustered the strength to stand and embrace Shen Xuan.

This was indeed Shen Xuan. Having dispatched two household servants, he had drawn upon the cultivation techniques from his past life to advance his power to the Middle Period of the Embryonic Breathing Stage.

Feeling his sister's embrace, Shen Xuan was touched by a sense of kinship he hadn't felt in ages. His previous life's millennium of solitary cultivation had distanced him from worldly attachments, rendering him indifferent to familial bonds. Yet, reborn into this life, the connection was undeniable and profound.

"There, there, no more tears. From now on, I'll be here to protect you," Shen Xuan soothed, gently patting Shen Xiaomei's shoulder. As he looked upon his sister, confined to her wheelchair, a fierce resolve ignited within him, his eyes blazing with a newfound determination.

"What happened to your leg?" He remembered Shen Xiaomei as being in excellent health; the sight of her in a wheelchair was baffling.

"I'm not sure myself. Over the last three years, my health has steadily declined until I lost the ability to walk," Shen Xiaomei replied, seemingly unconcerned about her legs. The fact that Shen Xuan was alive, dispelling all the rumors, meant more to her than anything else.

"I'll take it from here."

Shen Xuan wheeled Shen Xiaomei aside before striding into the hall.

The crowd watched Shen Xuan with a mix of confusion and curiosity. Just that morning, Shen Wentao had declared that Shen Xuan was on his deathbed, and it was on this day that Shen Wentao had ascended to the role of Patriarch. Yet, judging by the current scene, that didn't seem to be the case at all.

Sitting in the Patriarch's chair, Shen Wentao eyed the entering Shen Xuan with a calculating gaze. After a brief pause, he spoke up, "Xuan, how are you feeling? You were still unconscious when I saw you this morning."

"Step down from there," Shen Xuan commanded calmly, his voice quiet but piercingly clear to all in attendance.

His words sent a shockwave through the hall.

Shen Wentao was at the peak of his power as a Martial General, a figure whom even the Patriarch would hesitate to confront. His stature in Emergence City was nearly unparalleled.

"Xuan, have you lost your senses?" Shen Wentao's mouth twitched slightly, but he maintained a smile as he addressed the assembly.

"Did you not hear me? I said step down," Shen Xuan reiterated, standing at the center of the hall with his hands clasped behind him. He appeared unassuming, yet his presence seemed to overshadow even Shen Wentao's.

Shen Wentao studied Shen Xuan, attempting to impose an intimidating aura upon him. But Shen Xuan seemed utterly unaffected, standing with ease, impervious to the pressure.

The Shen family elders looked on in astonishment. They had always considered Shen Xuan to be a mere ordinary man, incapable of withstanding such force.

Sitting in the Patriarch's seat, Shen Wentao was inwardly alarmed. It was inconceivable that Shen Xuan could resist his pressure. Who was this man? With a sinking heart, he barked out an order, "This man is not our Young Patriarch. Guards, remove him at once!"

At Shen Wentao's command, two guards emerged, their dark red Battle Energy swirling around them as they stepped forward—a testament to their status as Martial Masters.

These two were among the Shen family's elite, personally trained by Shen Wentao himself. Together, they were a match for a Martial General.

As they approached Shen Xuan, their eyes glinted with lethal intent. They launched their fists, one from each side, their formidable Battle Energy sealing off any escape.

Their combined strike was the epitome of Martial Master prowess, a challenge even for a Martial General to counter.

All eyes were fixed on the unfolding drama, the crowd still reeling from Shen Xuan's earlier display of resilience. They waited with bated breath to see if he could fend off the impending assault.

Facing the onslaught, Shen Xuan simply stood his ground, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smile.

"Kung Fu is not for idle chatter; it's a lethal art."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than his right fist shot up, casting two ghostly shadows before striking swiftly at the necks of his adversaries.

"Thud! Thud!"

The sound of muffled impacts echoed as fists met necks, accompanied by the sickening crunch of bones shifting out of place. With each punch, he channeled a surge of internal energy into their bodies, snuffing out their vitality.

In the blink of an eye, the two Shen family masters crumpled to the floor, rendered unconscious.

Two Martial Masters, toppled without withstanding even a single exchange!

Such dread!

The onlookers' fear intensified as they witnessed the masters' life forces ebbing away rapidly. Within the span of three breaths, their vitality had vanished.

Dead!

A collective hiss rippled through the crowd as a chilling silence fell over the hall.

In the corner, the Grand Elder, Shen Lang, opened his clouded eyes, now flickering with a sharp glint.