C1 Encountered an Attack

In Yishui Town, behind the Zhang family's mountain, a roar filled with rage echoed through the valley. Having released his fury, Zhang Yu slumped to the ground.

"Heh, aside from bellowing on this mountain, what good am I?" he said, gazing at the Demon Beast Mountain Range veiled in mist, his words dripping with self-derision.

Zhang Yu, the son of a prominent family in Yishui Town, one of the three great families, might not be noteworthy on the vast scale of the Vast Dragon Continent, but he was well-known in his hometown. Yet, fate had dealt him a cruel hand. His mother passed away after his birth, leaving behind only a pendant that had been his constant companion since childhood. Despite his relentless efforts at cultivation, consuming countless Spirit Pills provided by his family, and consulting numerous renowned physicians, he had yet to complete his Qi Cultivation at the age of fifteen. On this continent, he was considered nothing more than a failure. For over a decade, he had endured endless mockery and humiliation. But it was these very taunts that had tempered his mind, making it as solid as stone, though not quite demonic.

On the Vast Dragon Continent, spiritual energy saturated the air, and nearly everyone was a Cultivator. There were no nations, only powerful families and sects.

Cultivators ranged from martial practitioners to martial masters, Great Martial Masters, Martial Saints, and Martial Ancestors. Then there were the Demon Beasts, ranked from levels one to five, corresponding to human cultivators up to Martial Saints. Beyond that were the Lord Level, General Level, Emperor Level, and Saint Level Demon Beasts. Legends of a War God existed, but they remained just that—legends, with no sightings ever confirmed.

Here, power was the ultimate currency. With strength came wealth, influence, beauty, and dominion over life and death. Despite the perilous journey of cultivation, fraught with dangers that could annihilate one's entire clan, the allure of power was irresistible.

Gazing at the sheer cliff beside him, Zhang Yu was momentarily tempted to leap off and end his tragic existence. But then he remembered his father's countless sacrifices, the love and encouragement shining in his eyes, and he stepped back from the edge.

"Whatever, I've scraped by for over a decade; what's a little more mockery?" Zhang Yu said to himself, trying to sound nonchalant, though the undertone of bitterness was unmistakable.

"I've been out here long enough. Time to head home." He took the familiar path he'd trodden so many times before, quickening his pace toward home.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Halfway there, Zhang Yu was confronted by two masked figures blocking his path. Confusion mingled with a rising tide of fear.

"Heh, what a question, kid. Can't you see my face is covered? Asking who I am? Seems like you're asking for trouble!" The response came with a sinister chuckle.

"You both know who I am, a nobody, a 'trash' who's never troubled anyone. What do you want with me?" Zhang Yu feigned composure, while discreetly crushing the jade talisman he held—a last resort for danger given by his father, which he'd never thought he'd need to use.

"Zhang Yu, if you kneel and call me 'grandpa' three times, and shout 'I am the Zhang family's trash' three times, I might just let you go home happy. What do you say?" taunted a cocky young voice.

Zhang Yu might have considered it if it were just a matter of shouting insults—he'd lost count of the times he'd been called trash. But kneeling and calling someone 'grandpa' was out of the question.

His expression turned icy, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"Do you two really think you can kill me and not fear the Zhang family's retribution?" Zhang Yu's voice was cold and steady. There was no point in groveling or begging for mercy now.

"Hmph, killing you would be as easy as slaughtering a chicken. You're such a weakling, you're not even fit to carry my shoes. You should be grateful to call me 'grandpa'—yet you resist. Believe me, I have a hundred ways to make you beg for death, to grovel at my feet." The young voice spat out these words in anger upon hearing Zhang Yu's response.

"Today, I'm at your mercy. Kill or maim me as you please. But mark my words, if I escape, I will repay this debt twofold." Zhang Yu, fully aware that his chances of survival were slim, spoke without a hint of fear.

With a loud "thud," the young masked man landed a kick on Zhang Yu's abdomen. Zhang Yu, who had trained his physique, was strong, but no match for a Cultivator's kick. He was brought to his knees in an instant. "Ha! How do you like my Tathagata's Kick? Feels great, doesn't it? You're no match for a martial artist like me. I could knock down millions of nobodies like you in seconds," boasted the young Cultivator, full of arrogance.

Zhang Yu wiped the blood from his mouth and struggled to rise from the ground.

"He who humiliates others will be humiliated in turn. One day, you'll end up worse off than me!" Zhang Yu declared with steely resolve.

"Damn you, you little runt, still trying to lecture me? I'll finish you off." The young masked man continued his assault, raining down punches and kicks on Zhang Yu. Whether out of a need to vent his frustration or to torture Zhang Yu, he deliberately avoided striking any fatal blows. "That'll teach you to be so defiant," he roared while beating Zhang Yu, who to an uninformed onlooker might seem like the real victim.

Despite the relentless beating, Zhang Yu remained silent, supporting himself on his hands, veins standing out as he exerted all his strength to keep his spine from bending.

Humiliated, yet unbowed.

His vision blurred, but the words of his father echoed in Zhang Yu's ears—One should not be arrogant, but must never lack pride. There are lines one does not cross. Just like Zhang Yu now, who, even in the face of death, would keep his backbone straight. It was a sight that could stir the soul.

"Alright, take him out," said the older masked man, perhaps influenced by Zhang Yu's actions or simply unwilling to delay any longer.

"Hmph, you're in luck. I'll be the one to escort you to your final resting place," the younger masked man sneered. Drawing the short sword from his waist, he aimed for Zhang Yu's heart.

"Stop, you villain! Don't harm my child!" Suddenly, a roar like thunder erupted from afar. The voice preceded the arrival of a formidable figure who rapidly closed the distance.

"Ah!" Caught off guard, the young man's hand shook, and the sword thrust towards Zhang Yu.

"Quick, let's go! Zhang Sen is coming, and his cultivation far surpasses mine. If he catches us, we won't escape!" Without time to check if Zhang Yu was dead or alive, the middle-aged masked man scooped up the younger one and fled.

In an instant, Zhang Yu's father, Zhang Sen, was on the scene. He took in the sight of his son lying in a bloodied heap, then cast a glance at the fleeing masked men. Driven by a father's urgency, he lifted his son and dashed toward the Zhang family home.

"Uncle Tao, how is my boy?" Zhang Sen inquired, eyeing Zhou Tao, who had just finished examining Zhang Yu. His tightly clenched fists and earnest gaze betrayed his worry.

"Chief Zhang, I've thoroughly checked the young master. The only potentially fatal wound is on his chest. It was a close call, but fortunately, the blade missed his heart by a hair's breadth. He's currently unconscious due to significant blood loss, but there's no longer any threat to his life. You can be at ease," Zhou Tao assured him, sensing Zhang Sen's urgency and promptly sharing his findings. "With some rest, I'm confident the young master will make a full recovery."

"That's a relief. Thank you, Uncle Tao. Someone, please escort Doctor Tao out and retrieve ten gold coins from the accounts to thank him," Zhang Sen said, his anxiety easing upon hearing the good news.

"Thank you, Patriarch. I shall take my leave now. If the young master follows my prescribed diet, he should recover swiftly," Zhou Tao said, then departed Zhang Yu's room with an attendant.

Listening to the doctor's reassurances, Zhang Sen's tense brow eased a bit. He issued a few instructions to Qing Xinger, Zhang Yu's maid, before exiting the room himself.

The Zhang family's Martial Practice Hall was already brimming with influential members of various ranks.

"Abiao, what's the status of the investigation?" Zhang Sen, seated at the head of the table, inquired of his younger brother, Zhang Biao.

"Big Brother, we've got some leads. The Liu family is the prime suspect, especially since Yu recently clashed with Liu Neng. The timing of the attack is just too coincidental. Still, we shouldn't discount the Wang family either. In a fight between two tigers, one is bound to get hurt, and the Wang family could easily reap the benefits," Zhang Biao reported.

"Brother, it's clear they're after Yu's life. Our Zhang family isn't one to be trifled with! I'm planning to take some skilled fighters tonight and settle the score with a few from the Liu and Wang families, to avenge Yu. Damn it, bullying is something anyone can do!" Zhang Biao fumed.

"Abiao, hold off on any hasty moves until we have the full picture. Our family might be strong, but we'd be at a disadvantage facing two families at once. Keep investigating and report back the moment you discover anything. Also, issue a command for our clan to stay vigilant and intensify their training, readying for combat at any moment," Zhang Sen responded, weariness in his voice. "Additionally, Zhang Biao, Zhang Hao, and a few of the elders, please stay. The rest of you are dismissed."

What was discussed in the subsequent private meeting remained a mystery for the time being...

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to anyone, the pendant left by Zhang Yu's mother was absorbing the blood seeping from his body, emitting a soft, eerie glow...