C11 Not for the Love of Children

"Wuwuwuwu..."

Outside the walls of Central Prefecture City, across the expansive terrain, a young man lay in the grass, weeping inconsolably. Lin Haotian had always been a favored child of the heavens. His martial arts talent shone brightly, and with the backing of the Lin Family's resources, he had thrived in Dirtcliff.

He had never suffered the sting of humiliation.

Let alone been beaten to the point of searching for his scattered teeth.

Yet today, he had been bested by someone he considered a nobody, beaten until he was too ashamed to show his face.

Time and again, he had lunged at his opponent, only to be sent flying, each blow a slap to his pride, until he lay there, utterly spent, unable to rise.

The pain of defeat overwhelmed Lin Haotian, and he wept uncontrollably, especially as he watched Jee Yun mount the Dragon Horse that was meant to be his and ride off into the distance.

Lin Haotian nearly passed out from the sheer force of his sobs.

"This horse makes for a fine steed!"

"Consider it compensation for the life lesson I've given you!" Jee Yun said, patting the green Dragon Horse's head with satisfaction. At once, the initially resistant creature became docile.

Such mounts possessed a keen spirit.

Once bonded with a master, they were notoriously difficult to break in.

But at the slightest hint of Jee Yun's murderous aura, the Dragon Horse acquiesced, bowing its head and carrying him away without further protest.

With the Dragon Horse beneath him, Jee Yun left his foot-bound days behind, speeding towards Irongate City. Meanwhile, Lin Haotian remained in the desolate outskirts, drained and desolate.

It took half an hour before Lin Haotian mustered the strength to stand, using his legs to propel him toward the city.

But he hadn't covered half a mile when he was met by a swarm of martial artists.

Hundreds of them, each at least at the fourth level of the Genuine Qi Realm, converged in a formidable procession that made all passersby steer clear, unsure of the cataclysmic event that had prompted their gathering.

"Haotian!"

"Haotian, is that you?"

"Has Jee Yun harmed you in any way?"

Lin Muran was at the forefront, his eyes quickly identifying the dispirited figure of his son from afar.

"Father!"

"No, it's not me!" Lin Haotian's heart was heavy with grief and bitterness.

Hearing Lin Muran's voice was like a melody from the heavens.

He desperately wanted Lin Muran to seek vengeance for him.

Yet, as Lin Haotian looked up and saw the throng of martial artists, his face contorted with shock. He whipped his head around, his voice trembling as he cried out.

Their gazes fell upon his pitiful state, leaving them speechless.

Lin Haotian wished he could dash his head against a wall to erase this disgrace.

Seeing Su Xuerou and Su Xiaomei among the onlookers intensified his shame.

But it was too late for denials; the crowd had already converged around him.

"Brother Haotian, what happened to you?" Su Xiaomei's cheek still throbbed from Su Nanyan's slap.

Yet, the sight of Lin Haotian left her utterly dumbfounded.

How many blows had it taken to leave such swelling on a once handsome face?

Despite her shock, Su Xiaomei felt a sense of relief.

Lin Haotian was still alive.

Ever since she learned of Jee Yun's true identity, she had been fraught with worry.

The Blood Asura, feared by Dirtcliff's three great families, had been felled by a single punch from Jee Yun.

What chance did Lin Haotian have if he had crossed Jee Yun?

Now, though Lin Haotian was alive, his suffering seemed worse than death.

He was once the pride of heaven.

One of Dirtcliff's shining stars.

Now, he was paraded before the world, his face swollen beyond recognition. How could he bear it?

So when Su Xiaomei reached out to help him, Lin Haotian shoved her to the ground.

"I've already told you, I'm not Lin Haotian, I'm not!" he bellowed. Without waiting for anyone to console him, he bolted away like a madman.

Left behind, Su Xiaomei crumpled to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt that all the injustices she had ever endured paled in comparison to today's.

Everything had unfolded because of Jee Yun.

"Jee Yun, if I, Su Xiaomei, don't kill you, I'm not human!"

Su Xiaomei bit down on her teeth, screaming inwardly.

Truth be told, Su Xiaomei had long held Lin Haotian in high regard.

She even harbored a secret affection for him.

But knowing Lin Haotian's heart belonged entirely to his sister, Su Xuerou, she had kept her feelings hidden.

Today, she felt as though Jee Yun had shattered all her painstaking efforts.

Lin Haotian, his face pummeled to a pulp, had even yelled at her.

This ignited a spark of hatred in the usually haughty Su Xiaomei.

"Dear Nephew Haotian!" Su Nanyan witnessed Su Xiaomei being shoved to the ground and frowned in disapproval. Yet, upon seeing Lin Haotian's pitiful state, he couldn't help but shake his head in dismay.

This outcome was unforeseen by all.

He was about to give chase, but Lin Muran stopped him with a gesture.

"Let it be, Brother Su. Allow Haotian to leave."

"The boy has been spoiled and arrogant from a young age. His defeat at the hands of the Venom God might actually be a blessing. If he can realign his mindset from this point on, he stands a better chance of becoming a martial arts grandmaster."

Lin Muran spoke through clenched teeth, his heart aching at the sight of his son so brutally beaten.

His fingers dug deep into his palms.

Yet, the thought of Jee Yun's formidable power forced Lin Muran to swallow his pain like shattered teeth.

The Venom God was a legend a decade ago.

And now, ten years on, the Sword God had returned, felling the Blood Asura with a single blow.

Lin Muran knew he must act as if nothing had happened to avoid calamity for the Lin family.

Moreover, he was acutely aware that it was fortunate enough that the Venom God had spared Lin Haotian's life.

"Brother Lin, I apologize for my failure to properly discipline Xiaomei."

"My brother passed away early, and I've been negligent in guiding my two nieces," Su Nanyan admitted, looking into Lin Muran's composed face, yet recognizing that Su Xiaomei bore the full weight of the blame.

Had Lin Muran not held onto the affection of bygone days, he likely would have broken ties with the Su Family long ago.

"Come here!"

"You witch!" Lin Muran had grown weary of Su Nanyan's rebukes.

He couldn't even be bothered to exchange words with the onlookers, promptly departing with the Lin Family's warriors in tow.

Today, the combined forces of the three families amounted to over a hundred martial artists. Lin Haotian's loss was more than a personal embarrassment; it was a stain on the Lin Family's honor.

Lau Mengyao, Xu Yuanyuan, Wang Xiaotian, and the others exchanged glances, their skepticism about Jee Yun being the Venom God lingering before they arrived. Yet, Lin Haotian's abject defeat seemed to speak volumes, leaving little room for doubt.

"I can't believe I, Su Xuerou, was so mistaken!"

"And after ten years together!" As the crowd thinned out, Su Xuerou, accompanied by Su Xiaomei, made her way back to the Su Mansion, a profound sense of loss weighing on her.

Before, she might have been in denial about Jee Yun being that legendary figure. But witnessing Lin Haotian's pitiful state, Su Xuerou's belief solidified.

Her heart was a tangle of bitterness and guilt, yet it was mostly shrouded in bewilderment.

She couldn't fathom why Jee Yun, if truly the Venom God, hadn't come clean to her, allowing her and Su Xiaomei to treat him with disdain.

Even their marriage, in name only, seemed to be of no consequence to him.

Was her title as the foremost beauty of Dirtcliff meaningless? Did it hold no allure for Jee Yun?

Su Xuerou was tormented by these thoughts.

Yet, unbeknownst to her, during those ten years hidden within the Su Mansion, Jee Yun's heart had turned to ice.

A near-death experience on the Star Platform ten years prior had crystallized for Jee Yun a harsh truth: in this world, only power is everlasting.

Only as a Star Refiner could one rise above the mundane.

Today, his sword was drawn, but not for the sake of love.