Return to the Estate

"Young... Master Zeng?!!!"

When Wang Daoyuan saw Zeng Anmin, he was completely dumbfounded. Then, wild delight suddenly appeared on his face.

"You... You're not dead!!"

"Cut the crap. Give me the horse. I need it."

Zeng Anmin shot him a sidelong glance. His clothes were soaked through, and he wanted to get home and change as quickly as possible.

Back when he read wuxia novels in his previous life, those martial artists would circulate their Internal Energy and steam all the moisture from their bodies dry.

He stirred the martial artist's aura within him and gave it a shake. The result was that his sleeve exploded.

"Oh, oh, oh!"

Wang Daoyuan did not dare hesitate in the slightest. He hurriedly dismounted and handed the horse beneath him to Zeng Anmin.

"Come to the Clerk's Office and find me later."

Leaving behind only those words, Zeng Anmin spurred the horse toward the Governor's Mansion.

Governor's Mansion.

The courtyard before the main hall.

It was early winter.

Though this was the south, the chill still slithered down people's necks like venomous snakes, making them unable to resist hunching their shoulders.

Dachun was bare from the waist up, kneeling on the ground with bloody welts covering his body.

His usually shrewd eyes were now filled with grievance. He clenched his teeth tightly and did not utter a word.

Uncle Qi held a long whip, his face full of ruthlessness. As his right hand rose, it sliced through the air with a whistling sound.

Crack!!!

The whip fell across Dachun's body, leaving behind a gash dripping with blood.

"Why weren't you at Young Master's side?!"

There was a trace of hatred in Uncle Qi's voice, as if the one kneeling before him were not his own son.

Dachun pressed his lips together tightly, not daring to speak.

Crack!!!

"If Young Master doesn't return..."

As Uncle Qi spoke, the long whip in his hand paused. A faint wetness already glimmered in his eyes, and his voice caught in his throat, unable to continue.

Crack!

Another lash.

"Enough."

A deep, resonant voice rang out.

Zeng Shilin wore no expression as he slowly walked into the courtyard.

"Master."

Upon seeing Zeng Shilin, Uncle Qi hastily threw away the whip in his hand.

Thud!

He dropped to his knees and violently kowtowed to Zeng Shilin.

His head struck the bluestone ground again and again. Before long, he had smashed apart one of the stone slabs.

Then, with a pleading expression, he carefully raised his head.

"Young Master... still hasn't been found?"

Zeng Shilin's face was grim.

He said nothing, only slowly walking toward the main hall.

"Whether he's found or not, Dachun shouldn't be beaten to death by you."

With that, he entered the main hall, found a chair, and slowly sat down with his eyes closed.

He was somewhat weary.

Seeing the master's lonely back, Uncle Qi felt as though his chest were blocked.

He looked at Dachun kneeling on the ground, then at his master's silence in the main hall.

Drop after drop of bean-sized tears spilled from his clouded eyes.

His trembling hand held the whip as he stood rooted in place, utterly at a loss.

Crash!

A jade bowl fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

Aunt Lin stared at the maid before her in disbelief.

"You said, Quanfu..."

Huzi lowered his head to look at the jade bowl shattered into several pieces, as well as the glistening thick soup spilled across the floor. Then he blankly raised his head to look at Aunt Lin.

"Mother, I'm not full yet."

But Aunt Lin had no time to care about him. Her phoenix eyes stared fixedly at the maid before her.

Sorrow filled the maid's eyes. "That's what people outside are saying. Master has transferred all the auxiliary troops over to drag the river..."

Thump~

Aunt Lin suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed weakly into her chair.

"Mistress..."

The two maids hurried forward to support Aunt Lin.

Aunt Lin's eyes were dazed, her pretty face full of grief. Her voice was haggard.

"Didn't that Black Cat Martial Artist say he was eliminating harm for the people? Quanfu has always obeyed the rules and never caused trouble..."

Huzi curiously raised his head. Seeing that Aunt Lin was ignoring him, he slowly lay down on the floor and stretched out his head to lick the thick soup on the ground.

"Tasty~"

A gloomy atmosphere hung over the entire Governor's Mansion.

Zeng Shilin sat upright in his chair, his gaze sharp at times and wistful at others.

"Master, that Broken Blade is a Spiritual Artifact. It matches the description given by the eyewitness to Wang Lin's assassination. We can determine that the assassin was indeed that Black Cat Martial Artist."

Uncle Qi stood respectfully at the doorway.

"Black Cat Martial Artist?"

Zeng Shilin slowly raised his head, a strange light flickering in his eyes.

"To cut through a Spiritual Artifact, the weapon in the other party's hand must at least be a Spiritual Artifact of equal quality."

"And their realm must surpass that assassin's. At the very least, they must be in the Martial Arts Visualization Realm."

"Otherwise, unless the weapon in their hand is a... Divine Artifact."

As soon as he said that, Father shook his head.

There was no other reason. The notion was simply too absurd.

Between the Holy Dynasty and the Jiang Dynasty, there were no more than five Divine Artifacts in total.

Every owner of a Divine Artifact was a powerhouse capable of holding up one side of the world.

His thoughts were somewhat chaotic.

"There is still no news from the riverbank." After hesitating, Uncle Qi still spoke up.

"Mm."

There was no telling joy or anger from Father's voice.

"Master..."

Aunt Lin's voice rang out. She sat opposite Zeng Shilin, her face haggard and her peach-blossom eyes brimming with tears.

"Quanfu..."

"Nothing will happen to him."

Father slowly raised his head and looked out the window, his voice carrying an inscrutable undertone.

"If anything happens to Min'er, whether it's Prince Jiang's Estate or the Shen Family, they will all be buried with him."

He had always been a suspicious man. The reason he still played by the usual rules was because no one had touched his reverse scale.

But this time, the enemy had already crossed his bottom line.

So, it did not matter who it was.

His voice was not loud, as though he were discussing some ordinary matter.

Yet the killing intent within it pierced straight through the heart and lungs.

"As for whether that assassin is the Black Cat Martial Artist, it isn't important."

"Father!!!"

A familiar voice rang out.

The three people in the hall were all stunned.

Father frowned and looked out the window. He thought his longing for his son had made him hear things.

"I'm back!"

That familiar voice rang out again.

"You there, go find Young Master a set of clothes!"

The tone in that voice was still so familiar.

Whoosh!!

Zeng Shilin abruptly rose to his feet, staring straight through the window toward the outside.

Uncle Qi was equally dumbfounded.

Aunt Lin was already overjoyed and wanted to head outside, but seeing that Father had not moved, she hesitated and remained where she was.

"Young Master? You're not dead?!"

Qi Dachun's voice was incomparably honest and simple.

"Dead for what? Your young master was saved."

"Who saved you?!!" Father's voice suddenly rang out.

The moment the words fell, he disregarded his composure and strode outside, hope in his eyes.

Their eyes met.

It was that familiar figure.

At last, Father's suspended heart settled back into his chest.

Zeng Anmin looked far too disheveled at the moment.

Not only was he soaked from head to toe, but both arms were exposed, making him look extremely bedraggled.

But none of that mattered. What mattered was... he had returned alive.

Hearing Father's familiar voice, Zeng Anmin let out a chuckle and spoke a name that brought strange expressions to everyone's faces.

"Black Cat Martial Artist."

"Who?!"

Uncle Qi's eyes widened.

Wasn't the Black Cat Martial Artist the assassin?

Only Father's eyes erupted with a terrifying gleam.