C3 Slap!

Inside the council hall, Han Feng, with Han Dao and the others in tow, retreated a couple of steps, his gaze flickering uncertainly as he watched Shen Xuan.

His gut told him there was more to Shen Xuan than met the eye.

The rest harbored their own agendas, none stepping forward, all eyes on Shen Wentao to see how he would handle the situation.

With a resounding "Bang!" Shen Wentao, seated, slammed his palm onto the tea table beside him. In an instant, the table disintegrated into dust, scattering across the floor.

"Whoever you are, it won't matter. You dared to kill my guards; no one will save you now," he declared.

As his words hung in the air, Shen Wentao leapt up, launching a palm strike at Shen Xuan.

His cultivation was at the peak of a Martial General, far surpassing that of the two guards. His Battle Energy almost tangible, it reached Shen Xuan before his hand did.

Shen Xuan, his mind racing, understood Shen Wentao's strength—comparable to someone in the late Abstention Stage or early Golden Core Stage of cultivation. Being only in the middle Embryonic Breathing Stage himself, he was outclassed. A direct confrontation would be futile.

But Shen Xuan had his own advantages.

Shen Wentao's palm struck Shen Xuan's chest, but it passed right through.

An illusion!

The unexpected turn left Shen Wentao momentarily stunned, but he quickly sensed Shen Xuan's presence behind him and launched another palm strike.

This time, Shen Xuan didn't evade; he braced himself, arms crossed, and absorbed the blow.

Shen Wentao remained unmoved, while Shen Xuan staggered back two steps before regaining his footing.

The onlookers were astounded by the exchange, particularly by Shen Xuan's illusory double. Was this truly Shen Xuan, or was he an impostor as Shen Wentao suggested?

After the brief skirmish, Shen Xuan had a clearer measure of his opponent's strength—it was greater than he had anticipated, and he was no match. Yet, the likelihood of Shen Wentao defeating him outright seemed equally improbable.

"Grand Elder, Shen Wentao is attempting to kill the Young Patriarch. Aren't you going to intervene?" Shen Xuan called out, stepping back.

At his words, all eyes shifted to the Grand Elder, Shen Lang, seated quietly in the corner.

By rank and respect, Shen Lang was the Shen family's most esteemed figure, though he had largely withdrawn from its affairs in recent years. As the sole Martial Grandmaster in the family, he had watched Shen Xuan's actions with interest. Such skill warranted his attention.

"He is the Young Patriarch. Cease your attack," Shen Lang instructed Shen Wentao, his voice calm but firm.

"But he has killed..." Shen Wentao began to protest but was cut off by Shen Lang.

"Did you not hear me tell you to stop?"

There was an icy edge to Shen Lang's command.

"Yes," Shen Wentao responded promptly, though a sinister look crossed his face. When the time came for him to lead, the Grand Elder would be the first to go.

"With the Young Patriarch unharmed, the succession ceremony will proceed as planned. In three days, the martial arts arena will host the event," Shen Lang announced.

After speaking, his eyes, clouded with age, closed once more. But as he did so, the corners of his mouth lifted into a knowing smile.

"Yes," came the chorus of voices from the Shen family members present.

The ceremony for the Patriarch's succession involved the Young Patriarch taking over the role, complete with a series of required procedures and one crucial test: defeating three peers. In a world where strength was paramount, it was the ultimate measure of authority.

Shen Wentao had previously dared to usurp Shen Xuan because everyone regarded Shen Xuan as a cripple, and thus, there was no opposition. But now, the situation had changed.

"What about my engagement?" Han Dao, who stood behind Han Feng, interjected abruptly.

Han Feng, standing at the forefront, felt a surge of frustration—visible as metaphorical black lines across his forehead. His brother might have been strong, but he was also notoriously single-minded. This was clearly not the time for such discussions, especially before Shen Xuan's status had been clarified.

At Han Dao's words, the young men of the Shen family glared at him, their faces darkening with anger.

Shen Xuan, with a nonchalant pat of his sleeves, approached Han Dao, a smile gracing his face. Then, with a swift motion as quick as lightning, he delivered a resounding slap.

"Smack!"

The sound echoed as the slap connected with Han Dao's cheek, which immediately began to swell visibly.

"Do you even qualify?" Shen Xuan's voice was soft, yet it cut through the air, crystal clear to all who were present.

Shen Wentao's mouth twitched. The Han family held a higher standing in Emergence City than the Shen family, and Shen Xuan's bold move was tantamount to a declaration of war—a war he had the audacity to start because he had the Han family's backing.

The slap left Han Feng and Han Dao momentarily frozen in shock.

"You! How dare you strike me?" Han Dao's temper flared, and he swung a punch at Shen Xuan, who nimbly dodged with graceful footwork. Just as Han Dao was about to launch another attack, Han Feng held him back.

"Stop it."

"Why are you holding me back? I'm going to kill him!"

"I said stop." Han Feng's glare forced Han Dao to regain his composure. Among the younger generation of the Han family, Han Feng's word was law.

"We'll remember this slap. The Han family will issue a challenge at your succession ceremony. If you refuse, it will be a fight to the death between our families. And I believe the Han family is more than capable," Han Feng stated icily.

The Shen family members remained silent upon hearing this; they knew the Han family had the means to follow through. The question was whether Shen Xuan would accept the challenge, knowing the ceremony's rule: life and death were in the hands of fate. Acceptance meant that death in the duel would go unchallenged.

Shen Wentao watched Shen Xuan with a sneer. Offending the Han family was not something he could afford. The Shen family had only one Martial Grandmaster, Grand Elder Shen Lang, while the Han family boasted three.

...

"I accept. But be careful—you might not survive my retaliation," Shen Xuan replied to Han Feng, his smile belying the deadly seriousness of his words.

"Fine, you've got guts. We're done here," Han Feng said, giving Shen Xuan a final look before leaving the hall with a disgruntled Han Dao in tow.

Shen Wentao, with a dramatic sweep of his sleeves, followed them out.

The meeting concluded abruptly, and the assembly dispersed. As they left, the Grand Elder instructed Shen Xuan to visit his quarters later that evening.

Afterward, Shen Xuan wheeled Shen Xiaomei back to their quaint backyard cottage.

...

In the secluded annex behind the Shen family estate, Shen Xiaomei sat in her wheelchair, her eyes alight with excitement as she gazed at Shen Xuan.

Perched on a stone chair, Shen Xuan appraised his sister from head to toe.

He had a sister! The Kalpa Rogue Immortal, who had once toyed with lightning tribulations for a millennium in his past life, now found himself with a sister. And with her, a sense of home he had never known before.

"Brother, what's on your mind?"

Noticing Shen Xuan's distant look, Shen Xiaomei quickly spoke up.

"Oh, nothing much. You'll move into the neighboring house today. There's an issue with your legs that I need to address."

"My legs can be healed?"

Shen Xiaomei paused, taken aback by Shen Xuan's words. The family's grand elders had sought out numerous renowned healers, yet none could mend her affliction, and she had long since abandoned hope. The prospect of a cure was an unexpected joy.

"Absolutely, your condition will be healed, and your innate talents will be restored to their former glory."

Shen Xuan assured her with a smile, keeping to himself the truth that her ailment was not a natural one. Her legs had been crippled by poison, a vile act that had caused her meridians to harden, robbing her of the ability to walk.

And the villain behind this heinous deed was none other than Shen Wentao.