Chapter Nineteen: Returning Home

Even someone as strong as Shi Gang had been wounded by Zhou Heng's single sword strike; the other two were both struck with intense shock, forgetting to attack.

"What are you standing there for? Hold him down!" Shi Gang roared angrily. He had always considered himself a genius, yet he had been defeated in a single move by a brat who had just broken into the Bone Refining Realm—how could this not fill him with shame and fury?

Only then did the two Shi Family men snap back to reality, each swinging their blades and swords to slash at Zhou Heng.

In Zhou Heng's eyes, only Shi Gang could be considered a worthy opponent. As for the other two... even before he had broken through to the Bone Refining Realm, he had the strength to kill them with a single sword strike!

Whoosh. He swept his sword horizontally, aiming for the neck of one of them.

"Don't even think about it!" Shi Gang snorted coldly, slashing out with his saber. A fierce blade aura surged wildly toward Zhou Heng.

"If I want to kill someone, how could you possibly stop me!" Zhou Heng snorted back just as coldly, activating Flying Cloud Steps. He dodged Shi Gang's saber strike with incredible speed, then took another stride forward, his body moving without any hesitation as he continued his charge.

Pfft!

A spray of blood flew through the air. A brilliant red blossom burst open at the man's neck. Zhou Heng slid past without pausing, deftly evading Shi Gang's returning saber slash.

"Damn it!" Shi Gang bellowed in fury. Zhou Heng had killed two of his men right before his eyes, driving him to the brink of madness!

The last remaining Shi Family man was trembling all over, terror-stricken. In his eyes, Zhou Heng had become the Grim Reaper himself. Even Shi Gang was useless—he couldn't protect anyone! With a sudden shriek, the man turned and fled.

"Come back!" Shi Gang roared. It wasn't that he needed the man's help, but that his clansman's flight was an admission that he was no match for Zhou Heng!

That was what infuriated him the most!

But with the enemy right in front of him, he couldn't very well chase after the man to punish him. He forced his anger down, thinking that the monk could run but not the temple. Once he returned to the Shi Family, he would make that man regret his cowardice!

Seeing Shi Gang's vicious and venomous expression, Zhou Heng smiled faintly and said, "Don't bother thinking that far ahead. You won't have that chance!"

He too gave up the chase, fixing his gaze solely on Shi Gang.

"Hahaha, do you think you can kill me?" Shi Gang sneered. "Let alone whether you're a match for me, with my speed, can you even catch up?"

This was the honest truth. Flying Cloud Steps granted some speed boost, but its greater value lay in its incredibly subtle and unpredictable changes! Of course, this was because Zhou Heng had never obtained the full movement technique's operational formula—he had only learned the footwork, which could not be called a true movement art.

Zhou Heng's eyes gleamed with killing intent. He lightly shook his longsword and said, "You won't have a chance to escape!"

Shi Gang threw his head back and laughed heartily. Wasn't this a huge joke? No chance to escape? Did this brat think he could kill him in a single blow?

"Then let me show you my true power!" Shi Gang shook both arms, every muscle bulging. A powerful aura erupted from his body, carrying the might of a fierce tiger.

"You should feel honored, because you are the first person to witness the fourth form of my 'Wind-Cloud Saber Technique'!"

He raised his saber high, veins bulging across his body. Every muscle trembled, as if barely able to bear the strain.

The Wind-Cloud Saber Technique originally had four secret forms, but the most powerful fourth form had long been lost—until he discovered it among the vast collection of books in his family's library. Unfortunately, due to the passage of time, several lines of the incantation had become illegible. Though he had done his best to reconstruct them, it was still imperfect.

Even so, the power of this fourth form was still terrifyingly immense. Every time he used it, not only did it drain all his strength, but it also inflicted backlash damage on himself!

Thus, this fourth form was his secret weapon, originally meant to be unleashed at the critical moment when he contended with Shi Qingfeng for the position of family head. But now, aside from this ultimate move, he had no idea what else could threaten Zhou Heng!

"Wind-Cloud Dragon-Tiger Transformation!" He roared, stomping his foot. Thud! The very ground seemed to rumble. He sprang forward, leaving a footprint a full three inches deep in the hard stone floor!

He whirled his saber, unleashing a storm of blade light from his body like a volley of arrows, filling the air with an overwhelming sense of inescapability!

Zhou Heng's heart stirred. This saber technique also had a mental suppression effect! But compared to the Heaven-Soaring Nine Styles, it wasn't even fit to carry their shoes!

He had to kill with one blow—or at least inflict a crippling wound—to prevent Shi Gang from escaping.

In that case—

First Form of Heaven-Soaring!

Saber against sword, the sharpest against the sharpest!

At this critical moment, Shi Gang suddenly froze!

It was as if heaven and earth were rejecting him, pressing down on him, making even the slightest movement of a finger an immense struggle! But he was a man of strong will; this only affected him for a brief instant before he regained control.

However, in a duel between experts, even the smallest lapse could be fatal! Zhou Heng was no longer in the Flesh Refining Realm—he was a genuine Bone Refining Realm cultivator!

A single sword stroke swept through. The blade light was instantly extinguished, leaving only a sky full of sword radiance streaking across the air like shooting stars, dazzling and brilliant!

Shi Gang staggered, his left hand clutching his chest. Crimson blood seeped through his fingers. His face was deathly pale, and he swayed unsteadily, as if he could barely stand.

His heart had been pierced by the sword, and the Sword Qi had nearly shattered it. If he let go of his hand at that moment, blood would spurt three or four feet into the air. It was only because he was a Bone Refining Realm martial artist that he was still alive—an ordinary man would have died from such a wound!

He forcibly suppressed the injury with his True Essence Power. As long as he received timely treatment, he could still recover.

"I will avenge this sword strike!" Shi Gang turned and fled, not daring to face Zhou Heng again.

"I already told you, you won't have that chance!" Zhou Heng snorted coldly, unleashing the First Form of Heaven-Soaring once more!

Shi Gang's body froze again. Though he had suffered from this once before, he still couldn't completely resist its effect.

That single pause cost him his life!

Zhou Heng's sword swept past. Clang! Frost Cold Sword slid back into its sheath. He didn't look back, continuing forward without pause.

Thud!

Shi Gang's legs gave out. He fell to his knees, then pitched forward, collapsing entirely. His eyes were wide open, filled with unwillingness, as a pool of blood spread beneath him.

In the end, one had still escaped.

Zhou Heng frowned slightly. But he had never revealed his identity. Even if that man returned alive to the Shi Family and spread the news, at most they could describe his appearance. There was no way they could trace it back to the Zhou Family!

He had caused this trouble himself, and he would bear the consequences. Zhou Heng had no deep attachment to the Zhou Family, but he didn't want to bring disaster upon them because of this matter.

"Let's go home!"

As he spoke these two words, a powerful surge of longing welled up in his heart. He couldn't wait to see Zhou Dinghai, to share his success and joy with the only person he cared about, the only family he had.

Father should have returned to the Zhou Family by now!

Zhou Heng's figure shot up, racing toward Raw Stone Town.

A day passed. At night, he found a clean cave to rest in. When midnight came, he followed his usual routine of refining the stray energy released by the Black Broken Sword. But this time, he discovered that the amount of stray energy had not increased!

"My deduction was right. This power was all cultivated over the past ten years. It's not endless after all!"

"That's fine. The martial path can only be walked on one's own strength."

Four more days later, Zhou Heng finally returned to Raw Stone Town.

The New Year atmosphere was already thick. Every household was decorated with lanterns and banners. From time to time, children in new clothes ran through the streets, letting out cheerful shouts.

A smile crept onto Zhou Heng's face. For him, the year-end strength assessment had always been the thing he feared most. Ever since he turned eight, every New Year had been spent alone with his father in their own courtyard.

This time, he could finally stand tall before everyone and make his father proud!

Arriving at the main gate of the Zhou Family estate, he saw the same vermillion doors, the same eight guards standing ramrod straight on duty. The only difference was the several large lanterns hanging at the entrance, radiating a strong festive spirit.

Zhou Heng took a deep breath and strode forward.

"Halt—oh, it's Young Master Heng!" The eight guards were startled when they saw Zhou Heng, but after the initial surprise, strange expressions crept onto their faces.

Zhou Heng swept his gaze over them, feeling a faint twinge of confusion. Though he was considered a waste in the Zhou Family's eyes, he still bore the title of young master. Moreover, his father was a family elder. Shouldn't any servant show him proper respect?

But what was with these eight people's expressions? They actually carried a hint of barely concealed schadenfreude!

What was going on?

He had no mind to bicker with mere servants. He simply asked, "Has my father returned?"

"Yes, Young Master Heng. The Sixth Elder came back three days ago," one guard replied, looking at Zhou Heng with a trace of puzzlement—when had this useless young master gained such an imposing aura, like an unsheathed peerless sword, sharp and unbridled?

Zhou Heng's heart leaped with joy. Ignoring the guards' odd expressions, he launched himself forward. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—he sped off, his Flying Cloud Steps making his movements erratic. The people on the road couldn't even make out his face before he vanished into the distance.

Soon, he reached his own courtyard. He shoved the door open and couldn't help shouting loudly, "Dad! Dad!"

But there was no answer from Zhou Dinghai. After calling out several more times, Zhou Heng finally heard a weak voice reply, "Heng'er!" His expression shifted instantly. He rushed into the bedroom and arrived at Zhou Dinghai's room.

A middle-aged man lay on the bed, his face deathly pale, radiating a profound weakness. It was his father, Zhou Dinghai!

"Dad, what happened to you!" Zhou Heng was shocked, furious, and terrified. Father and son had depended on each other since childhood. In Zhou Heng's eyes, his father was his only family in the Zhou Family, the only person he could rely on.

"It's... it's nothing. Just a minor injury!" Zhou Dinghai waved his hand, trying to prop himself up, but his face flushed red. His head, which had just lifted, drooped again as he broke into a fit of coughing.

"Dad, don't move!" Zhou Heng hurried over and stuffed a pillow under Zhou Dinghai's neck, letting him lean back at an angle.

"Heng'er, where have you been these past few days?" Zhou Dinghai only looked Zhou Heng up and down. "Did you suffer any grievances?"

Zhou Heng's nose stung. His father was so badly injured, yet he only worried about him. How could his heart not ache like a knife cutting through it?