C16 Qing Mengyi

Nangong Fan rose to his feet and approached Hei Yushang, offering her a few words of comfort before striding out of the Law Enforcement Hall. At this moment, there was nothing left to say. Despite the punishment meted out by the hall, his ability to cultivate meant he no longer dwelt on such setbacks.

After all, not being recognized as a direct descendant didn't change the facts. The Law Enforcement Hall's decision to leave him his direct lineage ring was telling. He had lost the privileges of a direct descendant, but how much had he truly enjoyed those privileges in the past? Before adulthood, he had some benefits, but mostly it was the Foundation Establishment Spiritual Grass that Hei Yuqing and Hei Yushang had procured for him.

The privileges of a direct descendant meant access to abundant cultivation resources. While it was regrettable to lose them, Nangong Fan wasn't overly concerned. He firmly believed that relying on pills was no substitute for diligent cultivation. A conviction echoed within him: true spiritual strength must be earned through perseverance, not shortcuts through elixirs.

Nangong Fan trusted his instincts, even though he couldn't pinpoint their origin. Yet, he felt torn. The paths of physical and spiritual cultivation were distinct, with the former demanding substantial resources to fortify the body, which seemed at odds with his mysterious belief.

Currently, Nangong Fan's Beast Transforming Technique was a tome of physical cultivation. He had only grasped a fraction of it and was far from mastering the text, but at least he had a legitimate practice. Moreover, the Wildhearth Clan, a vast sect renowned for body cultivation, was not without its variety of methods. A Taoist book, despite its focus, encompassed the full spectrum of cultivation's intricacies. Otherwise, it wouldn't be recognized as one of the human race's Taoist texts.

But dwelling on the need for resources now would only compound his worries; what was done was done.

Hei Ze followed his father, walking ahead of Nangong Fan. The pair moved with a swagger, as if the position of son was already theirs to claim.

Yet Hei Yulong, in contrast to the straightforward Hei Ze, was noticeably more reserved. He understood that the matter of lineage was at play here, and that Hei Ze's status was not his to critique as an outsider.

Hei Ze was nothing like a child who had just savored a sweet treat, eager to share his delight with everyone. He turned to Nangong Fan, his face a mix of resentment and smugness, clearly blaming Nangong Fan for the injury to his right shoulder inflicted by Qin Guang.

"Kid, without your status as a direct descendant, you're less than nothing. Your aunt, who's still got some clout, will surely beg Hall Master Mo to intercede on behalf of you, the waste that you are."

"Don't harbor any illusions. Once declared in front of so many, it's irreversible. On your way to Forestvale, you might just end up a casualty of some ruthless bandits. And even if you reach the Shushan Sword Sect, who would want a reject like you as an apprentice? You can only return as a Martial Saint, but that's a pipe dream for you. Once I'm a direct descendant, Martial Saint is merely my starting point. All those fine possessions of yours shouldn't go to waste on bandits. Do you have the guts to face me in a duel on the martial arts platform? We'll wager your talisman papers and magical treasures."

"Oh, but of course, you wouldn't dare step onto the platform with me, would you, you coward?"

Hei Ze was lauded as the most promising youth of the Black Family. Having just absorbed his eighteenth unit of spiritual energy, he hadn't quite made it to Martial Ancestor, but he was no ordinary Martial Master. He could easily take on several at once, and compared to the whip-wielding man Nangong Fan had last faced, there wasn't much difference, save for a few years in age. Hei Ze was eighteen; the other was nearing thirty.

Nangong Fan had his sights set on the direct descendant title, but losing an arm had introduced too many uncertainties. He was on par with those vying for the position, and even with his strength, he couldn't be sure of victory.

"What do you have that's worth my while to wager?" Nangong Fan responded with a nonchalant drawl. In the past, he might have tried to deflect or alter the terms of the contest, but now, as long as he could employ his talisman paper, even a breakthrough by Hei Ze to Martial Ancestor would leave him on the receiving end of a beating.

"I'll take something, and you'll bet against me, with the condition that no external forces are used," Hei Yulong stated, turning around with avarice in his eyes, yet maintaining a composed tone. "Let's wager a medium-grade spirit stone against your ten Sacred Talismans and that azure long sword. Young Master, do you dare to take the bet?"

Nangong Fan's eyes sparkled with anticipation. A medium-grade spirit stone could compensate for five years of a direct heir's resources. For him, who was financially strapped, this was like a godsend in the depths of winter. "I'll take the bet."

Talisman paper is created by experts who infuse their energy into yellow wooden paper capable of storing spiritual energy. It embodies the force of a powerful strike, making it an incredibly valuable and potent expendable item.

To craft such talisman paper, one must possess at least the rank of Martial King. Hence, the existence of Royal Talismans, Emperor Talismans, Holy Talismans, and Divine Talismans.

It is rumored that Oceanview, one of the ten cities, is home to a unique talisman master. This master can harness the blood of demonic beasts and the essence of plants to craft various magical talismans on yellow paper, earning him the title of "Curse Master."

Having once been deemed worthless, Nangong Fan, despite being the sole direct heir, did not possess a single spirit stone in his ring. Instead, he had a substantial stack of silver notes from the Qing Clan's Chamber of Commerce.

Silver notes are mundane, whereas spirit stones are the currency of martial artists, brimming with spiritual energy for cultivation by those who have reached the Martial Ancestor Realm and beyond.

The concept of grading spirit stones originated from the Upper World. Even low-grade spirit stones are scarce in this realm, not to mention medium-grade spirit stones, which are equivalent to ten thousand low-grade ones.

This medium-grade spirit stone likely represented a significant portion of Hei Yulong's past life savings. He probably hoped to leverage its power to break through to the Martial Emperor Realm, thereby securing a more prestigious position within the Black Clan.

Despite Nangong Fan's belief that the Black Dragon Sword was worth more than a medium-grade spirit stone, and the prohibition of using talisman paper and certain magical treasures in the arena, he no longer saw the peak Martial Master or the handicapped Black Flood Dragon as threats. The victory over the Martial Master the previous night, aided by the Black Dragon Sword, was also a testament to his own growing strength. Nangong Fan was confident that even unarmed, he would still triumph over the Martial Master.

"Young Master, I'll see you at the martial arts platform at noon tomorrow." Hei Yulong flashed a smile reminiscent of Maitreya Buddha and strode off into the distance.

"Young Master, don't chicken out. The whole Black Mansion will be there to witness your mighty display of power." Hei Jiao sneered as he followed in his father's footsteps.

Nangong Fan seemed oblivious to the mockery in their words, offering them a detached smile before heading in the opposite direction. He wondered if they would still be laughing when the time came.

...

"Master, congratulations on the Young Master's ability to resume his cultivation. With his Martial Ancestor level, he's among the elite in Dragonstone," said the first elder of the Law Enforcement Hall, a Martial Emperor himself, kneeling on one knee before a gaunt figure wearing a black dragon mask. His face was a mix of fervor and reverence. "But why expel the Young Master from the Black Mansion and Dragonstone?"

"Mo Yu, how can jade be refined without being cut and polished? Perhaps this will even draw out some of the hidden foes. Besides, the mountain that houses the Shushan Sword Sect has an intriguing history. The Shushan Sword Sect is one of the mightiest in this realm. What's a direct heir's status in comparison? Let Hei Ze go and hone his skills."

...

"Brother, that old man Mo Yu has no regard for loyalty, casting Ze'er out and sending him so far away. Without the ability to cultivate, what's the point of him seeking a master to learn from? What if he's mistreated? Please, talk to Father and ask him to look out for Ze'er," Hei Yushang pleaded in front of the wooden house by the ancestral hall, showing a vulnerability rarely seen in her. She tugged at the sleeve of the middle-aged man engrossed in ancient texts at a wooden table. "All you do is bury yourself in these pointless old books. What happened to your once bold spirit?"

A wine gourd sat on the table, its stopper removed, wafting a heady aroma of alcohol.

The man in the white robe offered a wry smile and closed the book, "I understand Mo Yu. He wouldn't have exiled Ze'er without irrefutable evidence. Remember, he once cherished Ze'er even more than I did."

Mo Yu had already shown me the painting of Ningguang before anyone else.

That blue sword isn't just any treasure; it's at least of spiritual weapon caliber. Does our Hei family even possess twenty spiritual weapons?

The way Hei Ze shattered that wooden door with a kick, could a mere Martial Disciple achieve that? He's even more adept at concealing his skills than I was.

Unlike magic treasures, which anyone can wield to unleash formidable power once infused with spiritual energy, spiritual weapons depend on the wielder for their strength.

Spiritual weapons possess a consciousness and choose their own masters. Hei Ze isn't as straightforward as you perceive.

You've underestimated him, but Mo Yu has discerned some clues."

"We can't just cast Hei Ze out. With the Black Mansion's power and resources, he has even greater potential to excel. That boy, he even managed to keep secrets from me. I've spoiled him for nothing."

"Let Hei Ze venture out into the world. He's starting just a bit earlier than I did. With his penchant for violence, staying in the Black Mansion could lead to untold incidents.

Though I'm now disabled, my network remains intact. Rest assured, Hei Ze is my son, and I will ensure he's well taken care of."

"Is Sister Mengyi truly gone? With you present, how could she have died so completely? If she really passed away, given how much you cared for her, you would have at least erected a memorial in her honor.

Were you truly crippled? With your strength and wisdom back then, how could the Ao Clans' assassins have harmed you? Even if you couldn't beat them, couldn't you have escaped? And if you were truly ambushed, would you only be crippled?"

Hei Yushang gazed intently at Hei Yuqing, her brother who always filled her with warmth when she thought of him, a man of both intelligence and bravery.

Hei Yuqing remained silent, simply taking a large gulp of wine and looking up at the sky with an impassive face, as if he hadn't heard Hei Yushang's probing questions.

After a long wait without a response, Hei Yushang sighed deeply, giving Hei Yuqing a lingering look before walking away, lost in her thoughts.

Only after Hei Yushang had disappeared did Hei Yuqing look up at the sky, his eyes brimming with softness as he whispered, "Qin Mengyi... Qing Mengyi... Our child has grown up. How are you faring? I'm about to come find you. Are you still waiting for me?"