Chapter Thirty: The Silk-Clad Young Lord’s Resolve

Yun Yufeng had not spoken a word all this time. Now he took a step forward, his cold voice instantly freezing the warrior’s smile in place. “A bastard with a mother but no upbringing—does bullying a little girl make you feel powerful?”

The warrior exploded at those words. Orphaned since childhood and forced to consort with thieves, Yun Yufeng had struck straight at his sorest spot. All he could think now was how to make Yun Yufeng die in agony; the young lord’s earlier instructions to simply rough him up were instantly forgotten.

“You little wretch, I’ll kill you—!” the warrior roared, charging straight at Yun Yufeng, weapon raised high to strike.

Yun Yufeng’s eyes flashed coldly. Reaching out, he shoved Cuinong aside, then stepped forward, his body taut as a drawn bow. A surge of violet qi erupted from him, as if an ancient beast had awakened within—dragon-like, tiger-like. The murderous aura rolling off him made the warrior falter for a split second.

And that split second sealed the fate of this fifth-rank warrior. Yun Yufeng’s hand rose in a knife edge, slashing down at lightning speed with a thunderous crack. The chilling intent tore through the air like a blade. “Taking Life!” A vast, illusory blade of energy extended from Yun Yufeng’s descending hand, cleaving deep into the warrior’s chest and bursting out his back, leaving a gash several meters long in the street.

A sharp, wet sound—the warrior’s chest tore open like paper, his body nearly split in half, and he fell dead on the spot.

Yun Yufeng’s face was ashen. He bent over, hands braced on his knees, gulping for air as he swallowed a restorative pill, striving to recover his energy.

Using “Taking Life” consumed nearly all his strength and spirit, but the power it unleashed was immense. Even at the peak of third rank, it could manifest a sixth-rank aura. That Yun Yufeng could remain standing now was already impressive.

On the domed rooftop, the young lord in brocade nearly lost his footing at the sight. His face darkened as he glared at his three attendants. “So this is how you go about finding me servants? Hmm? Dispatched with a single blow, and not even a chance to resist?”

The three men mopped cold sweat from their brows, protesting miserably, “Young master, it’s not that the servant was useless—the enemy was simply too fierce. That power, while not quite at sixth rank, is enough to overwhelm any early fifth-rank fighter caught off guard.”

The young lord’s expression flickered, then he suddenly laughed. “All the better—this makes things interesting. Perhaps one day we’ll meet him in the clan. In time, he might even cause my elder brother some trouble. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, yes, young master, you are wise indeed.” The three nodded hastily, though inwardly thinking: He’s a genius, but unless you can win him over, how’s he going to trouble the eldest young master?

With a flourish, the young lord snapped open his folding fan, waving it as he spoke. “You must think otherwise. There’s no real conflict between us and Yun Yufeng. Befriend him, and he’ll naturally come to our aid when it counts.”

The three exchanged glances, lips tightly sealed, but their eyes spoke plainly: No conflict? You’ve already told Yun Shangmo not to lay a finger on him.

The young lord seemed not to notice their looks, continuing, “Besides, Yun Shangmo doesn’t know who I am and has never seen me. I’ve never been here, have I? Tomorrow we leave this little town for somewhere new. I only came because of a small matter concerning my grandfather years ago. Still, what a harvest—after this, the Yun clan’s business is no concern of mine.”

“Yes, young master.” The three had to admire their master’s decisiveness.

“Very well, let’s be off. Back to the inn—there’s nothing more to see tonight, a good chance to rest.” With that, he was the first to vault down from the dome and head for the inn.

Out on the restaurant balcony, Li Guanqi and Xue Buyu still sipped tea from their tiny purple clay cups. Yet the exquisite tabletop bore a few fresh tea stains—a moment ago, as Yun Yufeng felled the warrior, both men’s hands had trembled in unison, spilling droplets.

“Brother Guanqi, is this the one you’ve set your sights on?” Xue Buyu’s eyes gleamed.

“Heh, Brother Buyu, no need for envy or jealousy,” Li Guanqi replied with a sly grin.

“Envy my foot. I’m off.” Without waiting for a response, he swept the table and tea set into his storage pouch, leaving Li Guanqi holding his cup and staring speechlessly.

Li Guanqi drained his cup, turning the purple clay vessel in his hand. “Brother Buyu is a rare character. If he invites me for tea a few more times, I might just complete a full set of these cups.”

He paused, musing, “That boy is a cunning spirit. I hear there’ll be visitors from the capital after the year’s end—I can’t let them steal him away. An ocean-like sea of mind and talent. If I hadn’t discerned his true age, I’d have taken him for some old monster out wandering the world—one with a taste for little girls, no less.” At that, the scholarly man shivered involuntarily.

Once his breath had steadied, Yun Yufeng led Cuinong into a weapon shop. His energy had not recovered; if he ran into another enemy now, he’d likely be finished. He’d just realized the warrior he’d killed was fifth rank. There was no choice but a lightning strike while the man was off guard—he couldn’t afford to wonder who might have sent him.

He was out today to buy some wrought iron for practice. There was a forge in the clan, true, but it wouldn’t do to take from there. Word of his 'dandy' reputation would spread the moment he left—wasn’t taking up blacksmithing just inviting trouble? His grandfather might even leap out of the scriptures hall in protest.

“Shopkeeper, how much wrought and refined iron do you have? I’ll buy it all!” Yun Yufeng said, fanning himself with a show of extravagance.

The shopkeeper dared not slack, replying quickly, “We have plenty of wrought iron, but little refined iron—after all, this is a weapon shop, most refined iron’s already been forged into weapons.”

“Then give me all the wrought iron, and as much refined iron as you can spare. Tell me the price.”

Soon, a few assistants brought it out. Yun Yufeng saw only a few hundred pounds of wrought iron, and barely twenty pounds of refined iron.

Seeing Yun Yufeng frown, the shopkeeper hurried forward with a flattering smile. “Young master, that’s really all we have. Small shop, small needs—not much in storage.”

Yun Yufeng waved him off, paid, and stored the boxes in his pouch before leaving. He repeated the process at several other forges, buying them out. The young girl trailed him, dizzy with confusion, unable to fathom what her young master was up to.

With his purchases complete, Yun Yufeng walked leisurely back toward the manor, hands clasped behind his back, Cuinong in tow. He did not notice a pair of eyes watching him from the void—only vanishing without a trace after a long, silent gaze.