Jin Steward, Have a Safe Journey!

Lin'an City, Yang Residence.

Two coffins stood in the main hall.

The pitch-black coffins stood side by side, glimmering faintly beneath the flickering candlelight.

Before the coffin on the left stood a memorial tablet inscribed, "Memorial Tablet of My Deceased Son, Yang Mingyuan"; the tablet on the right read, "Memorial Tablet of My Deceased Younger Brother, Yang Jinshan."

Yang Zhenshan sat motionless in a chair to the right of the coffins.

He had been sitting like this for a long time.

So long that the incense in the burner had burned out three times, and the daylight beyond the window had sunk into sunset.

Someone stood behind him.

Yang Hong.

The chief steward who had followed Zhou Qi at the mine and personally driven Yang Jinshan's body back was now kneeling on the floor, his forehead pressed against the icy tiles.

"Master..." Yang Hong raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed. "This subordinate was useless. I failed to protect Fifth Elder."

Yang Zhenshan did not turn around.

He merely looked at the two coffins, his voice hoarse as sandpaper scraping together.

"Get up. It is not your fault."

Yang Hong did not rise. Instead, he heavily knocked his head against the floor three more times.

"Master, this subordinate..."

Yang Zhenshan waved a hand.

"Go," he said. "All those of the Yang Family who could scatter have scattered. You should go too. Seek refuge with relatives, or make a living in another city. Do not stay in Lin'an City."

Yang Hong's entire body trembled as he lifted his head.

He looked at Yang Zhenshan's back. That spine, once straight and unyielding as a mountain, was now slightly stooped, as if burdened by a thousand-ton weight.

"Master!" Yang Hong's voice choked. "This subordinate will not leave! This subordinate has served the Yang Family for twenty years. I long ago came to regard this place as home!"

At last, Yang Zhenshan turned his head and looked at him.

His gaze was as weary as a stagnant pool, without the slightest ripple.

"Home?" He gave a soft laugh, one uglier than weeping. "The Yang Family... is gone."

Yang Hong opened his mouth, wanting to say something, yet unable to say a single word.

Yang Zhenshan withdrew his gaze and continued looking at the two coffins.

"Go," he said again, his voice as light as a breeze. "While there is still time."

Yang Hong remained kneeling there, unmoving for a long while.

In the end, he knocked his head heavily against the floor three times. The skin on his forehead split, blood seeping out and staining the tiles red.

"Take care, Master!"

He rose to his feet, turned, and strode away.

His footsteps gradually faded, finally vanishing into the night.

The main hall fell silent once more.

Only the flame of the eternal lamp flickered faintly, casting dim yellow light over the coffins.

Yang Zhenshan remained seated.

He recalled every little thing from the past twenty years.

From taking over as family head from his father, to scheming and fighting against the Wang Family, Zhao Family, and Li Family; from gambling on severe injuries to seize the mining rights to the Blackstone Mine, to relying on Blood-and-Flesh Pills to break through to the ninth level of Qi Refinement—step by step, he had brought the Yang Family to where it was today.

He had plotted against many people, and he had killed many people too.

He had believed that everything he did was for the Yang Family.

But now?

He had killed his own elder brother.

His son was dead.

His fifth younger brother was dead.

The family fortune was gone.

Only he remained, a lone man sitting before these two coffins.

Yang Zhenshan closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

No sorrow was greater than a heart that had died.

He no longer wished to scheme.

He was too tired.

Just then, a peal of thunder drew nearer from afar:

"YANG! ZHENSHAN!!!"

A thunderous roar exploded in the distance, shaking dust loose from the rooftops throughout the Yang Residence.

When the voice first sounded, it was still beyond the city. By the time the final word, "shan," fell, it was already right at hand.

Yang Zhenshan opened his eyes.

He did not move. He only quietly watched the doorway.

In the darkness to one side, a figure abruptly rose.

Yao Qing.

He had never left.

Worried about Yang Zhenshan, he had not returned to the City Lord's Manor at all, instead keeping watch from the shadows of the side hall.

His expression was grave now. He strode before Yang Zhenshan and shielded him behind himself.

BANG!

The gates of the Yang Residence were blasted open by immense force. Both door panels flew inward, smashed into the ground, and shattered into pieces.

Amid the billowing dust, a man strode in, crossing into the rear courtyard in just three steps.

Jin Tie.

He wore a black brocade robe, its hem fluttering and snapping without wind. His head of white hair streamed wildly in the violent aura around him, like an enraged lion.

None of the arrogance and calmness from his previous visit remained.

There was only fury.

That fury condensed into tangible pressure and crashed down like a mountain. The entire main hall trembled faintly, while the eternal lamp's flame danced wildly, nearly going out.

Yao Qing's expression shifted slightly. His aura erupted, and the pressure of Foundation Establishment Early Stage met the attack, barely holding it back.

Jin Tie did not even spare him a glance. His eyes were fixed tightly on Yang Zhenshan.

"Hand over Zhou Qi." He spoke one word at a time, his voice cold as if it had risen from the Nine Netherworld. "I will leave you an intact corpse."

There was no preamble, no questioning.

He directly demanded the man.

Yang Zhenshan looked at him, his gaze as calm as stagnant water.

"He has already left."

"Where did he go?"

"Yongjing."

Jin Tie's pupils constricted slightly.

He stared at Yang Zhenshan, seemingly judging whether those words were true.

The silence lasted several breaths.

Then Jin Tie spoke again, his voice louder, nearly a roar:

"WHERE IS WANG TIANNAN!!!"

His voice carried spiritual power as it exploded outward and traveled far into the distance.

A moment later, hurried footsteps sounded from afar.

A figure sprang across several rooftops, then leaped directly down from the wall. The instant he landed, his legs gave way, and he fell straight to his knees.

Smooth as silk.

Wang Tiannan.

He knelt there with his head bowed almost to the ground, his voice trembling.

"Envoy, Wang Tiannan is here."

Jin Tie looked at him and said coldly,

"Where did Zhou Qi go?"

Wang Tiannan raised his head, his face pale as cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

"Reporting... reporting to the Envoy, this lowly one heard from the servants that Zhou Qi rode eastward. This lowly one immediately sent people after him, but that bastard was an excellent rider and quickly threw them off..."

"East?"

Jin Tie frowned, his blade-like gaze stabbing toward Yang Zhenshan.

"Yongjing is not to the east!"

He pronounced every word separately, each carrying bone-deep killing intent.

"How dare you deceive me!!"

Before his words had faded, his figure flashed, and he struck out with his palm.

Yang Zhenshan did not move. He had expected someone to block it for him.

Sure enough, just as that palm was about to land on him...

A streak of sword light appeared across the air, blocking the palm strike.

Yao Qing.

At some point, he had drawn his sword. Spiritual light flowed across its blade as he met Jin Tie's palm head-on.

BANG!

Sword and palm collided, and a blast of air erupted.

Yao Qing's face turned pale as he staggered back seven or eight steps. Every step cracked the floor tiles deeply beneath his feet. The hand gripping his sword trembled faintly, blood seeping from the web between thumb and forefinger.

Yet he did not retreat. He remained in front of Yang Zhenshan.

Jin Tie's palm strike had been blocked, but its lingering force did not diminish. The palm force exploded onward, charging straight toward Yang Zhenshan.

Yang Zhenshan did not dodge.

He remained seated, utterly motionless.

The palm force grazed past his side and slammed into the study behind him.

BOOM!!!

The deafening crash shook the heavens.

The entire row of studies, along with the bedrooms beside them, was pulverized in an instant.

Bricks and stones flew everywhere, wood chips scattered in all directions, and dust surged skyward.

When the dust settled, only ruins remained.

Yang Zhenshan still sat where he was, not even the corner of his robe disturbed.

He looked at Jin Tie, his gaze calm.

Having failed to land the blow, Jin Tie's rage intensified.

He suddenly turned toward Yao Qing, killing intent fully exposed in his eyes.

"Yao Qing! Do not force my hand!"

Yao Qing slowly straightened, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and met his gaze without yielding.

"Jin Tie, Yang Zhenshan has already joined my Yao Family." He spoke word by word, his voice quiet but carrying unquestionable force. "If you dare kill him, you will become an enemy of my Yao Family."

Jin Tie frowned.

Yao Qing continued, "Though my cultivation is inferior to yours, if you dare touch even a hair on him, I, Yao Qing, swear here and now!!"

His eyes blazed as he stared unblinkingly at Jin Tie.

"I will report this to my father, and even if I must pursue you to the ends of the earth, I will see the entire Jin Family exterminated!"

"If you do not believe me, then try it!"

"Let us see whether the Champion Marquis Estate can protect you!"

His voice echoed through the night sky, every word ringing like a hammer strike.

Jin Tie froze.

He looked at Yao Qing, and the fury in his eyes was gradually replaced by a trace of apprehension.

The Yao Family.

The Yao Family of Yongjing.

That colossal force whose roots and branches spread throughout Great Yong's imperial court.

Though the Champion Marquis wielded great power, was it worth completely falling out with the Yao Family over a steward's younger brother?

Even though that steward was now the estate's second chief steward.

Silence.

Several seconds after the scene quieted, Jin Tie suddenly laughed.

His laughter was loud and echoed through the night sky, yet it carried an indescribable chill.

"Good, good, good!"

He said "good" three times in succession, his gaze shifting back and forth between Yao Qing and Yang Zhenshan.

"Since City Lord Yao is so protective of his own, Jin has nothing to say."

He paused, his tone turning incomparably sinister.

"But you had best understand this!"

He spoke one word at a time, gritting his teeth.

"My younger brother will not have died for nothing."

With that, he turned and left.

With a flash, he was already atop the wall.

Just then, the scrape of tables and chairs being moved came from behind him.

Jin Tie halted and turned back.

At some point, Yang Zhenshan had risen to his feet.

He held a handful of joss paper in his hands and slowly tossed it into the air.

The paper money scattered through the night wind like white butterflies, fluttering and drifting down.

Yang Zhenshan looked at him, his gaze still as calm as water.

"Deacon Jin!"

He spoke, his voice hoarse, yet every word reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity.

"May you have a safe journey!!"

Jin Tie's pupils contracted sharply as he stared at him.

Yang Zhenshan stared back at him as well.

The two faced each other through the sky full of fluttering paper money.

After a long while, Jin Tie let out a cold snort. His figure flashed, and he vanished into the night.

Wang Tiannan knelt on the ground, his face deathly pale and his whole body trembling.

He wanted to leave, but his legs had gone weak. He could not even stand.

He glanced up at Yao Qing, but Yao Qing had not spared him a single look.

He relaxed slightly. Just as he was about to leave, a voice sounded beside him:

"Zhenshan, I won't kill Wang Tiannan. You must pull yourself together. In the future, you'll have to deal with him yourself!"

Wang Tiannan wore a bitter expression. What the hell kind of mess is this!

The main hall fell silent again.

The joss paper continued to drift down, landing on the two coffins and on Yang Zhenshan and Yao Qing's shoulders.

Yang Zhenshan slowly sat down and stared at the two coffins without saying a word.

Yao Qing walked to his side and remained silent for a long time.

Then he spoke, his voice very soft.

"Zhenshan..."

Yang Zhenshan did not respond.

He merely looked at the two coffins. The emptiness in his eyes gradually faded, swiftly replaced by a fierce, ruthless glint.

"A Qing, if you see Zhou Qi, help me tell him."

Yang Zhenshan slowly turned his head toward Yao Qing, his gaze resolute and brimming with killing intent.

"I don't need his help to kill him. I'll do it myself!!"