Family Arrives

The wind in the twelfth lunar month cut like a knife, scraping painfully across faces. Yet on the vast training grounds of the Blustering Wind Martial Hall, steam rose thick and hot. Shouts, the whistle of fists and feet, and the dull thud of stone locks hitting the ground mingled together, driving away the bitter winter chill.

Li Yuan, dressed in a thin blue martial hall training suit, stood among the Class A Room disciples, honing his fists and feet against an iron-wrapped wooden dummy. His movements weren't the fastest, nor his stances the most textbook, but every punch and kick that landed on the dummy carried an unusual heaviness. The thick iron wrapping was dented slightly by his strikes, and the dull impact could be heard from a distance, drawing sidelong glances from several nearby disciples.

He was utterly focused, his entire mind immersed in the circulation of qi and blood within his body. The trace of icy coldness brought by devouring curse power had initially merged with his Crimson Sun Qi and Blood, making his strength more condensed and his penetration stronger. He was trying to control this newfound power more finely, integrating it into his daily training.

Just then, a commotion, neither too loud nor too soft, stirred at the entrance to the training grounds.

Li Yuan withdrew his fist, his breath steady, and looked up.

He saw Instructor Chen Song accompanying several people as they walked in. The leader was a pale, beardless middle-aged man, wearing the dark blue brocade robe reserved for core stewards of the Li family, with a thick black cloak over it. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and his eyes swept indifferently over the sweating disciples on the training grounds, a lingering arrogance etched between his brows. Behind him followed two Li Family Guards, their auras sharp and eyes keen, their temples bulging—clearly skilled fighters of no small cultivation.

The arrival of these three clashed with the fiery training atmosphere of the martial hall, like a few cold stones thrown into boiling water.

The shouts on the training grounds unconsciously died down. Many disciples stopped their movements, staring at the uninvited guests with curiosity and a hint of wariness. Quite a few recognized the Li family attire, and their gazes involuntarily drifted toward Li Yuan, who stood in the middle of the field.

Li Yuan's heart sank, but his face remained impassive. He simply watched the group approach.

Instructor Chen's expression wasn't pleasant. He led the middle-aged man to Li Yuan and introduced him stiffly: "Li Yuan, this is the Li family's Third Steward, Li Ming. He has business with you."

Li Ming's narrow eyes fell on Li Yuan, appraising him like a piece of goods, scanning him from head to toe. He paused especially on Li Yuan's noticeably more robust frame and his martial hall attire, a faint, cold sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Li Yuan," he said, his voice thin and sharp, carrying a condescending tone. "The family orders you to pack your things immediately and return to the manor with me."

No greeting, no pleasantries—just a direct command. As if Li Yuan were still that branch family disciple they could manipulate at will, ready to be sacrificed.

The training grounds fell dead silent. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Li Yuan.

Li Yuan looked at Li Ming, his gaze calm, without the slightest ripple even at the man's rude attitude. He spoke slowly, his voice not loud but clear across the quiet field:

"Return to the manor? Which manor?"

Li Ming's brow furrowed. He clearly hadn't expected this reaction from Li Yuan, and his tone turned even colder: "The Li manor, of course! As a member of the Li family, do you dare defy the family's summons?"

"A member of the Li family?" Li Yuan repeated those four words, a faint, mocking smile crossing his face—a smile with no warmth, only shards of ice. "Third Steward, you seem to have forgotten. On the altar, when I was tied up and offered to that 'Ancestral Spirit,' did the Li family treat me as a member?"

At these words, Li Ming's face instantly darkened. The two guards behind him sharpened their gazes and took half a step forward, an invisible pressure spreading through the air.

Seeing this, Instructor Chen also stepped forward, saying nothing but making his stance clear.

The martial hall disciples held their breath, their eyes darting between Li Yuan and the Li family members. Many faces showed shock and dawning realization. The matter of the altar sacrifice was a closely guarded secret within the Li family, but rumors had long circulated among the lower servants and some branch members. For Li Yuan to expose it publicly was like slapping the Li family hard across the face!

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Li Ming's eyelid twitched. Suppressing his fury, he said coldly, "Li Yuan, stop your nonsense! The family has its own considerations! Today, you will return whether you want to or not! Otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?" Li Yuan cut him off, meeting his sinister gaze, his spine straight as a rod. "Will you tie me to the altar again, or do you plan to make a move here and drag me back by force?"

He took a step forward. Though young, the fierce aura born from multiple battles and the tempering of his qi and blood, mixed with the scorching pressure unique to Crimson Sun, actually made Li Ming, accustomed to lording over others, feel his breath catch.

"Third Steward," Li Yuan said, his voice low but each word striking like iron on the ground, "From the moment I walked off that altar alive, I've had nothing to do with the Li family. The old Li Yuan is dead—died on the altar you arranged with your own hands."

His gaze swept over Li Ming and the guards behind him, finally settling on Li Ming's livid face:

"Please leave."

Two words, final and unyielding.

A deathly silence fell over the training grounds. Only the wind howled as it scraped past the flagpole.

Li Ming stared hard at Li Yuan, his chest heaving violently, clearly at the peak of his rage. He hadn't expected that this boy, once so easy to push around, had not only grown vastly stronger but had also become so tough and unyielding!

The two guards he'd brought had already placed their hands on the hilts of their blades, their eyes vicious, waiting only for Li Ming's order.

Instructor Chen and several Deacon Disciples of the martial hall also shifted positions subtly, forming a loose shield behind Li Yuan. The atmosphere on the training grounds instantly became tense, swords drawn and bows bent.

Li Ming gritted his teeth, his eyes sweeping over Li Yuan's fearless face and the martial hall members clearly siding with him. He knew he wouldn't gain anything today. If he forced a fight, not only would he fail to take the boy, but they might not even escape unscathed.

"Fine! Fine! Fine!" He spat out three 'fine's, each word seeming to be ground out between his teeth, dripping with venom. "Li Yuan, you're very good! We'll... see about that!"

With that, he abruptly flicked his sleeves, turned, and strode away. The two guards shot Li Yuan a vicious glare before following close behind.

The three came and went like a gust of cold wind sweeping across the training grounds, leaving behind only a chill and countless complicated gazes.

Li Yuan stood where he was, watching their backs disappear through the martial hall's main gate. His face was calm and unruffled, but the hand hanging at his side had quietly clenched into a fist, the knuckles whitening from the force.

He knew this was only the beginning. The Li family would never let this go.

Instructor Chen walked up beside him, patted his shoulder, and said in a low voice, "You alright?"

Li Yuan unclenched his fist and shook his head. "I'm fine."

He turned and walked back toward the iron-wrapped wooden dummy, as if nothing had happened.

But the fists he threw were heavier, more solid than before. The dull thuds echoed like the beating of some silent war drum, reverberating through the ever-sharpening winter wind.