Arrival at the Breaking Clan

Shen Lian unfurled his Vermilion Bird Wings and, carried by fierce gusts, finally found a town.

The dark-gold runes embedded between the city bricks trembled faintly like startled fish under the pressure of his Soul Emperor aura. The medicinal fragrance drifting through the air intertwined with fluctuations of Soul Power, forming an almost imperceptible barrier.

This town, known as Cloud-Breaking Town, appeared tranquil, yet the Martial Soul badges hanging from the waists of passersby silently proclaimed that it was anything but ordinary.

Shen Lian secretly circulated his power and sensed at least seven Soul King-level auras. Deeper within the town, an even more formidable power lay dormant, making his pupils contract involuntarily. That aura was like a shadowy abyss, unfathomably deep.

Knock, knock, knock!

Shen Lian rapped on the bluestone residence door with his elbow. The copper ring echoed through the alley, startling birds from the trees.

A moment later, the door slowly opened, and dim yellow lamplight spilled out like a tide, illuminating Yang Xue's face, which carried the bitter scent of herbs.

This middle-aged woman wore a coarse indigo dress. A few white strands had crept into her temples, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes seemed to hold all the hardships of passing years.

Her gaze abruptly froze on the unconscious Zhu Zhuqing in Shen Lian's arms. Her chapped lips trembled slightly, and her eyes filled with shock and pity.

"Quick, come in!"

As they entered the hall, a rich herbal fragrance rushed over them. Medicinal hoes and herb baskets hung on the walls, while medicine jars were stacked in the corners, silently attesting to their owner's inseparable bond with herbs.

Shen Lian carefully laid Zhu Zhuqing on a wooden couch covered with a mugwort mat. Her face was pale as paper, nearly translucent in the candlelight. Though her chest wound had been suppressed with Soul Power, black blood still seeped from it, dark as a venomous snake's tongue and plainly revealing the danger of the poison.

Yang Xue hurried forward, her fingertips lightly brushing the wound. Her brows instantly knotted tightly, and her eyes brimmed with worry.

"This is the deadly poison of a feline Martial Soul. Ordinary healing soul skills are completely useless... The poison has already invaded her meridians. If we delay any longer, her life will be in danger."

She suddenly turned around, the wooden hairpin in her bun swaying violently with the motion, and said to Shen Lian:

"I can't handle an injury like this. I'll go invite the clan leader at once! Cheng'er! Come out and entertain our guest!"

The sharp whistle of a long spear tearing through the air from the rear courtyard abruptly ceased.

Yang Cheng strode over with a Black Iron Spear slung over his shoulder. Fine beads of sweat still covered his bronze skin, and his sun-bright smile carried a heroic air.

Drops of water fell from the spear tip and pocked the blue bricks. He looked Shen Lian over, his gaze lingering on him for a moment. He too had recognized that Shen Lian was no ordinary man, and surprise flashed through his eyes before he grinned.

"Brother, which sect are you from? This wound... looks like the Nether Claws of the Star Luo Zhu Family. To survive an attack like that, neither you nor this young lady can be simple."

Shen Lian leaned against the carved window frame and watched Yang Cheng toss a piece of charcoal into the copper brazier.

As the flames danced, the savage claw scar on the young man's neck flickered in and out of view. It coiled there like a centipede, telling of a brutal past.

Shen Lian then asked what had happened and where this place was.

Yang Cheng's smile suddenly froze, and his eyes turned cold with hatred.

"This is the foundation of the Breaking Clan. Back then, if not for those people from the Clear Sky Sect..."

He abruptly clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking as his chest heaved violently. He continued:

"If they hadn't retreated at the critical moment and left us to face Spirit Hall alone, my father wouldn't have died under those villains' siege!"

Overcome with emotion, he kicked over the earthenware jar beside him. Shards flew everywhere as he continued bitterly:

"I wish I could tear Spirit Hall and those oath-breaking bastards into ten thousand pieces!"

The medicinal brew in the copper kettle bubbled, and the rising steam blurred the window frame.

Just then, Yang Xue hurried through the door, followed by an elderly man who walked with the bearing of a dragon and tiger.

Yang Wudi's silver hair was white as frost, every strand seeming to bear the weight of time. Yet sharp light burst from his clouded eyes as he swept his gaze across the room like an eagle.

He slowly approached the wooden couch and pulled open Zhu Zhuqing's bloodstained collar. His aged fingers suddenly halted, and a complicated look flashed through his eyes.

"This girl... cultivates the Hell Spirit Cat? With such a Martial Soul, it's no surprise that she was injured so badly by the Nether Claws."

Clearly, Yang Wudi had guessed Zhu Zhuqing's identity and understood what she had gone through.

His cane struck the ground heavily, making the porcelain bottles in the medicine cabinet hum. Then Yang Wudi said:

"Fine. Let us see whether she has the fortune to survive."

With that, he took a jade medicine vial from his robes. The liquid within glowed an eerie emerald green, and faint radiance seemed to flow through it.

Shen Lian stared at the mysterious medicinal liquid, memories of the Breaking Clan's records racing through his mind.

Then Shen Lian suddenly recalled that, aside from Tang San and Yue Guan, the Breaking Clan also possessed information on Immortal Herbs in Douluo Continent.

So Shen Lian planned to speak with Yang Wudi after Zhu Zhuqing recovered, to see whether he could obtain information about the Immortal Herbs.

After Yang Wudi fed the medicine to Zhu Zhuqing, he used his Soul Power to guide it through her body once.

When he was finished, Yang Wudi said to Shen Lian:

"Alright. Now we only need to wait for her to recover on her own."

After hearing Yang Wudi's words, Shen Lian said to him:

"Then I must thank you, Clan Leader Yang. Once my companion recovers, I will certainly repay you generously."

Yang Wudi waved a hand after hearing Shen Lian's words.

"We can discuss that later."

Yang Wudi then left.

Thus, Shen Lian stayed in Yang Xue's home for several days and became friends with Yang Cheng.

The parasol tree leaves outside rustled in the morning breeze. Shen Lian's fingers lightly rubbed the rim of his teacup as his gaze passed through the mottled window frame and fell upon Yang Cheng, who was practicing his spear in the courtyard.

Amid the sharp whistle of the Black Iron Spear slicing through the air, he saw a dark-purple glow burst from its tip. It was the spiritual fluctuation carried by the Soul-Breaking Spear, like an invisible web that could leave fine cracks across the surface of an earthenware jar ten paces away.

"See that?"

Yang Cheng withdrew his spear and stood upright, sweat beading on his bronze face. He continued to Shen Lian:

"The Soul-Breaking Spear's mental shock can tear open a breach at the moment an enemy's defenses are at their strongest."

He casually wiped away his sweat with his sleeve, failing to notice the sudden gleam in Shen Lian's eyes.

Shen Lian drained the half-cooled tea in one gulp. The bottom of the porcelain cup struck the stone table with a crisp sound.

Memories of the Sun-Moon Empire Soul Device Research Institute surged forth like a tide:

In the holographic projections of the underground workshop, beside the core components of those era-defining Soul Tools, bright red words were always marked: "Requires spiritual power calibration."

At this moment, the spear shadows from Yang Cheng's demonstration gradually overlapped with the precise Soul Tool blueprints in Shen Lian's memories.

"If the Breaking Clan were involved in Soul Tool research and development..."

Shen Lian's throat moved as he lowered his voice to an almost inaudible murmur.