He Who Insults My Father Dies!

"Father, how exactly did you get hurt?" Zhou Heng suppressed his anger and asked calmly, but the slight tremor in his voice still betrayed the fury raging inside him.

Zhou Dinghai pondered for a moment. His son had always been clever; even if he didn't tell him, the boy would probably guess most of it. Better to tell him outright. "A few days ago, I heard that a divine herb had appeared. I went to try my luck and exchanged a few blows with someone. I was simply outmatched!"

Zhou Heng understood at once. His father had once again risked his life fighting others for a spirit herb that could "cure" him—and had been gravely wounded!

This was a world where strength ruled. If your fists weren't as hard as someone else's, you could only blame your inferior skill. Zhou Heng could accept that. But he couldn't bear that his father had suffered such grievous injuries for his sake!

His father was his only family, yet he had been hurt because of Zhou Heng. Zhou Heng was consumed by rage. It was his own "uselessness" that had forced his father to travel everywhere and risk his life for him!

Zhou Heng blamed himself. If he hadn't been so useless, how could his father have been hurt?

A dark fury rose within him, threatening to burn the whole world to ashes!

Whoever that person was, no matter how terrifying their backing might be, they were dead!

Zhou Heng swore it to himself, but forced a smile onto his face. "Father, I have good news. I can cultivate now!"

"What? Really?" A glint suddenly flashed in Zhou Dinghai's listless eyes. He studied Zhou Heng closely and immediately sensed the powerful aura around him. It wasn't as strong as Zhou Dinghai's at his peak, but Zhou Heng had definitely reached the Bone Refining Realm!

He had been away from home for only four months, and his son had gone from an unteachable good-for-nothing to the Bone Refining Realm?

"Ha! Hahahaha!" Zhou Dinghai burst into laughter, his joy overflowing. But the laughter jarred his wound, and he immediately began coughing. The color that excitement had brought to his face drained away, leaving it deathly pale.

Yet his smile remained. He reached out and patted Zhou Heng on the shoulder. "Good boy, I knew you could do it! I knew you could!"

Zhou Heng nodded firmly and clasped his father's hand. For a moment, he was too choked up to speak.

"Father, who hurt you?" Zhou Heng finally couldn't hold back the question.

Zhou Dinghai fell silent. After a while, he said, "Heng'er, the world outside is a hundred, a thousand times bigger than you imagine. What you need to do now is focus on cultivation. Don't let anything else distract you!"

"Father, you were badly hurt for my sake, and I don't even know my enemy's name. How can you expect me to focus on cultivation?" Zhou Heng said, worked up.

Zhou Dinghai shook his head. "He isn't really an enemy. Natural treasures have no owner; anyone can fight for them. I've already told you: I was simply outmatched, nothing more!"

"Father!" Zhou Heng stared at Zhou Dinghai, his gaze stubborn and unyielding.

This child took after him, and even more so after his mother!

Zhou Dinghai sighed. "All right. But you're too weak right now. Unless you can make it through the Ascension Path, I won't let you go to your death!"

Zhou Heng trembled. Had the one who hurt his father really been a Spirit Gathering Realm expert?

So what!

Zhou Heng clenched his fists. If he failed to avenge his father, he would be no son at all!

He might not be a match for a Spirit Gathering Realm expert now, but one day he would reach that realm. And with the vast space in his Dantian, he would be at least twice as strong as an ordinary Spirit Gathering Realm expert!

Combined with the Heaven-Soaring Nine Styles, he was confident he could kill any Spirit Gathering Realm expert!

"Heng'er, how did your illness suddenly get better?" Zhou Dinghai didn't want his only son dwelling on his injuries, so he soon changed the subject.

Zhou Heng hesitated for a moment before answering. "I found a wild fruit on Leveling Heaven Mountain. After I ate it, my whole body grew hot. I was unconscious for two days, and when I woke up, I could suddenly cultivate—and my progress was incredibly fast!"

The Black Broken Sword was too incredible, and the matter was too important. It wasn't that Zhou Heng didn't trust his father; the secret itself was a huge burden, and he could bear it alone!

Zhou Dinghai readily believed him. The reason he had traveled far and wide was to find a spirit herb that could cure Zhou Heng's "chronic illness." As a father, all he felt now was boundless joy and pride!

—Who said his son was a good-for-nothing? Who had ever seen a good-for-nothing go from the early stage of Body Refining First Layer to Body Refining Seventh Layer in four months?

How many people under eighteen in the Zhou Family had reached the Bone Refining Realm?

His son still couldn't match Zhou Dinghai's monstrous talent of reaching the Bone Refining Realm at twelve, but considering how long Zhou Heng had been cultivating, he had left his father far behind!

With a son like this, what more could he ask for?

"Father, I once stumbled into Absolute Valley and found a cultivation art. It's more than twice as fast as the Blazing Sun Art!" Zhou Heng proudly took out the Moon Shadow Heart Art. In front of his father, he could show his feelings without holding back.

"What!" Zhou Dinghai's expression changed. His shock turned to delight, and he tremblingly took the scroll—only for it to slip from his grasp and fall back onto the quilt.

Zhou Heng's expression changed. His father's injuries were far worse than he had thought.

He quickly opened the pages so Zhou Dinghai only had to glance at them. When his father gave a slight nod, Zhou Heng turned to the next page. The cultivation art was over four thousand characters long, obscure and difficult to understand, but Zhou Dinghai was a genius in his own right. After pausing briefly, he grasped each passage, and soon he had read through the entire art.

"Heng'er, this cultivation art is extraordinary!" Zhou Dinghai closed his eyes and thought for a moment, his expression grave. "More importantly, it's far too significant. If word gets out, it'll bring a deadly calamity upon you! Burn it at once. You can cultivate it yourself, but don't tell anyone or teach it to anyone!"

As expected, experience trumped all. Zhou Dinghai had reached the right conclusion in an instant.

Zhou Heng nodded. He had thought of burning the Moon Shadow Heart Art, too—but only after Zhou Dinghai had learned it.

"Father, have you memorized it?" Zhou Heng asked.

"Most of it. You've memorized it, so I can ask you," Zhou Dinghai said with a faint smile. Naturally, he was delighted to have obtained such a cultivation art.

Zhou Heng nodded. Without wasting any time, he went to the kitchen and started a fire, then burned the Moon Shadow Heart Art to ashes. Though the scroll would not decay for a hundred years, it couldn't withstand great heat. It soon crumbled into a pile of ash.

Creak—the door to the courtyard opened just then. A servant walked in carrying a tray. As he came, he called out, "Hey, are you dead yet? If you're not, say something. It's time to eat!"

At those words, Zhou Heng sprang to his feet!

"Huh?" The servant entered and saw Zhou Heng. A flicker of surprise crossed his face; clearly, he hadn't expected Zhou Heng to return so suddenly. But he didn't seem to care. He slammed the tray onto the table and said, "Good timing. Now I don't have to feed that cripple! Heh, you used to have just one good-for-nothing son, and now you're a cripple too. Like father, like son!"

The servant was a man in his thirties. Zhou Heng knew him. He was one of Zhou Jianming's men, named Zhao Si. He had started out as Zhou Jianming's pageboy and had since become a steward of the main branch, with considerable standing among the servants.

But no matter how much standing he had, he was still a servant. How dare he openly defy his betters? Had he grown a bear's heart and a leopard's gall, or...

Zhou Heng lifted the lid from the tray and glanced at the food. His face darkened with even greater fury.

The so-called meal was moldy vegetables and sour rice. Was this fit for anyone to eat?

Why had Zhao Si dared to treat his father this way? Beneath Zhou Heng's fury, worry ran even deeper—just how badly was his father hurt, if even a servant dared to trample all over him?

"Haha, didn't your old man tell you?" As one of Zhou Jianming's men, Zhao Si naturally shared his master's hatred for Zhou Dinghai and his son. "Your old man had all his cultivation crippled. He's no longer some Blood Refining Realm expert—he's just a cripple!"

"You're a good-for-nothing, and your old man's a cripple. Like father, like son!"

Zhao Si laughed wildly, without a trace of restraint. Zhou Jianming had hated Zhou Dinghai for years, and now that he had his chance, he would naturally torment the father and son to death. Zhao Si had no reason to be afraid.

Killing intent was already spilling uncontrollably across Zhou Heng's face. Not only had his father's cultivation been crippled, he was also badly injured. Zhou Heng had been too agitated to notice before, but now he realized there was no smell of medicine in the room!

And Zhao Si had brought only sour rice fit for pigs, not a single medicinal brew. What did that mean?

The family had abandoned Zhou Dinghai, leaving him to fend for himself!

Had he lost his cultivation, and so lost his worth?

No. The family might be practical, but it wasn't so cold-blooded! This had to be Zhou Xianming's doing behind the scenes. Only the Great Elder had enough influence to force the family to make such a cruel decision!

How much humiliation had his father endured over the past few days? If Zhou Heng had come back even a few days later, his father would have lost his cultivation, received no medicine, and been forced to eat this food. How much longer could he have lasted?

You insulted my father! You even wanted him dead!

Zhou Heng was filled with blazing fury. His killing intent shot straight into the heavens!

He reached for Zhao Si's throat.

"How dare you—" Zhao Si hadn't taken Zhou Heng seriously. He had meant to knock him to the ground with a casual punch, but the moment he swung, Zhou Heng had already clamped a hand around his neck. Zhao Si's strength instantly left him, and his fist dropped limply.

Crack, crack, crack. Zhou Heng's grip tightened. The bones in Zhao Si's throat ground together with a series of crunches. His face turned purple, then began to blacken. He struggled helplessly, terror flashing in his eyes along with deep disbelief.

—How could Zhou Heng be this strong? Zhao Si, a peak Body Refining Tier Three cultivator, couldn't fight back at all!

Wasn't this brat a good-for-nothing who couldn't cultivate?

"He who insults my father dies!" Zhou Heng pronounced coldly. He twisted his right hand. There was a sharp crack, Zhao Si's feet kicked once, his head drooped—and he was dead!