He Who Humiliates My Father Dies!

"Father, what exactly happened to your injuries?" Zhou Heng suppressed the rage in his heart, asking in a calm tone, but the faint tremor in his voice still betrayed his extreme fury.

Zhou Dinghai pondered briefly, thinking that his son was naturally intelligent—even if he didn't say it, the boy could guess a thing or two—so he might as well tell him directly. He said, "A few days ago, I heard news of a divine medicine appearing. I went to try my luck, exchanged a few moves with someone, and was simply outmatched!"

Zhou Heng understood at once. His father had once again risked himself, contending with others for a spiritual medicine that could "cure" him, only to suffer a heavy blow!

After all, this world was ruled by strength. If your fists weren't as strong, you could only blame yourself for being outmatched! Zhou Heng could accept that. But that his father had been gravely wounded for his sake—that was something he could not tolerate!

His father was his only family, yet he had been hurt because of him. Zhou Heng was furious. It was precisely because of his former "uselessness" that his father had been forced to run around, taking risks for him!

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

A blazing fury burned within him, nearly consuming the entire world!

No matter who that person was, no matter how terrifying their background, they were dead!

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

"What? Really?" A sharp gleam suddenly flashed in Zhou Dinghai's somewhat dull eyes. He looked closely at Zhou Heng and immediately sensed the powerful aura emanating from his son. Though it couldn't compare to his own peak state, it was definitely at the Bone Refining Realm!

He had only been away for a little over four months. His son had gone from a cripple unable to cultivate to the Bone Refining Realm?

"Haha, hahahaha!" Zhou Dinghai burst into loud laughter, filled with joy. But the laughter jarred his wounds, and he immediately started coughing. The flush of excitement on his face quickly faded to a deathly pale.

Yet a smile still lingered on his face. He reached out a large hand and patted Zhou Heng on the shoulder. "Good child, good child. Your father knew you could do it! You definitely could!"

Zhou Heng nodded firmly, gripping his father's hand, momentarily speechless with emotion.

"Father, who injured you?" Zhou Heng finally couldn't help asking.

Zhou Dinghai was silent for a moment before saying, "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 and not let anything distract you!"

"Father, you were gravely wounded for my sake, and I don't even know the name of our enemy. How can I cultivate in peace?" Zhou Heng said passionately.

Zhou Dinghai shook his head. "It's not really an enemy. Heavenly treasures have no owner—anyone can compete for them. I already told you, I was outmatched, simply outmatched!"

"Father!" Zhou Heng stared at Zhou Dinghai with unwavering determination, his eyes full of stubbornness.

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

Zhou Dinghai sighed. "Fine. But your strength is still too weak right now. Unless you can walk the Ascension Path, I won't let you go to your death!"

Zhou Heng's body trembled. The one who had injured his father was a Spirit Gathering Realm expert?

So what!

Zhou Heng clenched his fist tightly. To not avenge one's father was to be unworthy of being a son!

He was indeed no match for a Spirit Gathering Realm expert now, but one day he would reach that realm. And with the vastness of his Dantian space, he would be at least twice as strong as an ordinary Spirit Gathering Realm cultivator!

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

"Heng'er, how did your ailment suddenly heal?" Zhou Dinghai didn't want his only son to dwell on his injuries, so he quickly changed the subject.

Zhou Heng was startled. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "I found a wild fruit on Leveling Heaven Mountain. After eating it, my whole body burned up. I was unconscious for two days, and then I suddenly could cultivate—and at an incredible speed!"

The matter of the Black Broken Sword was too bizarre and too important. It wasn't that Zhou Heng didn't trust his father, but this secret itself was a heavy burden. He would bear it alone!

Zhou Dinghai believed this without question. The driving force behind his constant travels had been to find a spiritual medicine to cure Zhou Heng's "chronic ailment." As a father, he now felt nothing but immense joy and pride!

—Who said his son was a cripple? Who had ever seen a cripple go from the first layer of Body Refining to the seventh layer in just four months?

A Bone Refining Realm cultivator under eighteen—how many could the Zhou Family produce now?

Though it still couldn't compare to his own monstrous talent of reaching the Bone Refining Realm at twelve, Zhou Heng's cultivation speed had left him far in the dust!

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

"Father, I stumbled into an Absolute Valley and obtained a cultivation technique. It's actually more than twice as fast as the Blazing Sun Art!" Zhou Heng eagerly pulled out the Moon Shadow Heart Art. In front of his father, he could freely express his emotions.

"What!" Zhou Dinghai's expression changed. Shock gave way to great joy. He took the silk scroll with trembling hands, but couldn't even hold it—it slipped and fell onto the blanket.

Zhou Heng's face changed. His father's injuries were far worse than he had estimated.

He quickly opened the pages, letting Zhou Dinghai scan each one. After his father gave a slight nod, he turned the page. The four-thousand-character technique was obscure and hard to understand, but Zhou Dinghai was a genius in his own right. After only brief pauses, he grasped the meaning. Soon, he had read through the entire technique.

"Heng'er, this technique is extraordinary!" Zhou Dinghai closed his eyes and thought for a moment, his face growing extremely solemn. "And it carries immense implications. If even a hint of it leaks out, it will bring deadly disaster! Burn it immediately. Cultivate it yourself from now on. Tell no one, and teach it to no one!"

Indeed, the older, the wiser. Zhou Dinghai had made the most accurate judgment in an instant.

Zhou Heng nodded. He had indeed considered burning the Moon Shadow Heart Art, but only after Zhou Dinghai had learned it.

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

"Most of it. You remember it—I can ask you if I need to!" Zhou Dinghai revealed a faint smile. Obtaining such a technique naturally pleased him.

Zhou Heng nodded. Not daring to waste time, he immediately went to the kitchen, lit a fire, and burned the Moon Shadow Heart Art to ashes. Though the silk scroll would not decay for a hundred years, it could not withstand high heat, and soon it was nothing but a pile of cinders.

Creak. At that moment, the courtyard door was pushed open. A servant walked in carrying a tray, shouting as he came, "Hey, hey, hey! Dead or alive? If you're not dead, say something! Time to eat!"

Hearing this, Zhou Heng immediately jumped up!

"Huh?" The servant was startled to see Zhou Heng inside, a look of surprise flashing across his face. He clearly hadn't expected his return, but he didn't care. He slammed the tray heavily onto the table and said, "Good timing. Saves me from having to feed that cripple myself! Hah, first a useless son, and now the father's a cripple too. Truly a father and son pair!"

This servant was a man in his thirties. Zhou Heng recognized him—Zhao Si, a man who served Zhou Jianming. He had started as Zhou Jianming's page boy and was now a steward of the main branch, holding considerable status among the servants.

But no matter how much status he had, he was still a servant. To openly insult his masters—had he eaten a bear's heart and leopard's gall, or...

Zhou Heng lifted the lid of the tray. When his eyes swept over the contents, the fury on his face only grew.

This so-called meal was actually moldy, rotten rice—was this fit for human consumption?

How could Zhao Si dare to treat his own father like this? Beyond his anger, Zhou Heng was more worried—just how severe was his father's injury, that even a servant dared to bully him to his face?

"Haha, your old man didn't tell you?" Since Zhao Si was one of Zhou Jianming's people, he naturally shared his master's view of Zhou Dinghai and his son as thorns in their side. "Your old man's cultivation was crippled. He's no Blood Refining Realm expert anymore—he's just a useless cripple!"

"You're trash, and your old man's a cripple. Birds of a feather flock together!"

Zhao Si laughed wildly, without the slightest restraint—Zhou Jianming had hated Zhou Dinghai for so many years, and now that he had this chance, he would crush the father and son to death. Zhao Si had no reason to be afraid.

Zhou Heng's face could no longer suppress the murderous aura spilling out. His father had not only lost his cultivation but was also severely injured. In his earlier agitation, he hadn't noticed, but now he realized—he hadn't smelled any medicine in the room!

And the only thing Zhao Si had brought was pig-slop fit for swine, not any brewed medicine. What did this mean?

The clan had abandoned Zhou Dinghai, leaving him to live or die on his own!

Without cultivation, he had lost all value?

No, although the clan was pragmatic, it wasn't cold-blooded enough for this! This had to be Zhou Xianming's doing behind the scenes. Only with the Great Elder's insistence could the clan make such a cruel decision!

How much humiliation had his father endured in these few days? If he had come back a few days later, with his father's cultivation gone, no medicine to treat him, and forced to eat this kind of food—how many more days could he have held on?

They insulted my father! They wanted to kill my father!

Zhou Heng's heart was filled with raging fury, his killing intent soaring to the heavens!

He reached out his hand, grabbing toward Zhao Si's neck.

"How dare you—urgh!" Zhao Si hadn't taken Zhou Heng seriously at all. He was about to casually throw a punch to knock Zhou Heng down, but the moment his fist shot out, his neck was already caught in Zhou Heng's grip. All his strength drained away, and his raised fist fell limp.

Crack, crack, crack. Zhou Heng's hand tightened. Zhao Si's throat emitted the grinding sound of bones compressing. His face instantly flushed purple-red, then began to blacken. He struggled weakly, his eyes flashing with terror and deep confusion.

—How could Zhou Heng possess such overwhelming strength, leaving him, a peak Body Refining third-layer, utterly powerless to resist?

Wasn't this kid supposed to be a waste who couldn't cultivate?

"Whoever insults my father dies!" Zhou Heng coldly pronounced the sentence. With a twist of his right hand, a crisp crack sounded. Zhao Si's legs kicked once, his head drooped, and he was dead.