At the stroke of midnight, before the great fire of the Bai family had even begun to blaze.
In a corner of the Fengtiao Workshop’s Forbidden Army camp, deep within a small hilly area spanning hundreds of acres, stood a large, square stone house built from dark blue stone slabs, its gaps filled and hardened with molten iron.
The gates, forged from refined steel, were tightly shut.
Inside the house, fierce flames roared upward.
Amid the raging fire, a massive bronze cauldron glowed a blazing red-hot.
Inside it, a thick, boiling medicinal liquid steamed out a pungent, rank stench.
Colorful fragments of snake bones, scales, horns, and claws twisted and churned within the bubbling broth.
Leshan stood bare-chested, his body submerged up to the neck in the searing medicinal brew.
His face was flushed bright red from the fierce potency of the medicine, with his eyes wide open, flickering faintly with an eerie crimson light.
He breathed heavily in a low, guttural rhythm.
Because of the chaos at the Four Extremes Workshop, he had delayed his training for two days.
So today, he poured twice the usual strength of the medicine into the cauldron.
The burden on his body, the refining process, and the strain he must endure—all multiplied several times over from his everyday regimen.
Leshan's body trembled slightly, teetering on the brink of collapse at every moment.
Waves of excruciating pain stabbed into him, making each breath heavier than the last.
Every deep inhalation stirred up a huge whirlwind within the air of the room.
The stone house trembled subtly, as if with each breath Leshan drew, the entire structure could be torn apart into pieces.
Outside the house, over a dozen of Leshan’s most trusted men clad in heavy armor stood silently in the darkness, guarding his position.
They were all experts who had reached the twelfth level of the Meridian Opening Technique.
Among them, a few leaders had even stepped into the Scripture Opening Realm.
But feeling the faint trembling beneath their feet, every one of them wore an expression of wild fanaticism—only they truly knew how powerful their general was.
In their hearts, the legendary Yuchang Le, whose name was spoken of as something godlike, was absolutely no match for their general.
All those rumors about ‘harvesting yin energy to replenish yang’, or ‘devouring human hearts’—nonsense, mere scraps of paper easily torn apart by Leshan’s absolute strength.
Only they knew just how strong Leshan really was.
A power so overwhelming that they could neither resist nor confront it; a power so terrifying that even the slightest touch would shatter them to pieces.
Perhaps in all of Haojing, no one could stand against Leshan?
Suddenly, ‘whoosh!’
A furious streak shot past in the blink of an eye—the heads of those dozen or so armored experts exploded simultaneously, their heavy bodies crashing to the ground with dull thuds.
Those dozen or more masters, each having cultivated beyond the twelfth layer of the Meridian Opening Technique, were killed in the blink of an eye!
A towering figure appeared abruptly before the stone house’s door, the wind howling around him.
He spread his hands wide, pressing against the thick alloy door.
The door, a solid sheet over a foot thick, shattered silently, crumbling into iron sand that scattered across the floor.
The burly man strode into the stone house.
Immersed in the medicinal liquid, boiling in the bronze cauldron and wracked with unbearable pain, Leshan held his breath, motionless, his eyes fixed coldly on this unexpected intruder in his sacred place of training.
This man was over nine feet tall, his skin dark as ebony, built as solid as a mountain.
Clad in ancient, multi-hued brass armor, the style was archaic, even somewhat crude.
His face framed by a wild, tangled beard.
The giant’s pace was confident.
Just three steps from the doorway brought him to the cauldron.
He looked down at Leshan bathing in the boiling brew and murmured in a low voice, “Fengtiao Workshop’s Forbidden Army stationed Left General Leshan?”
Leshan squinted but said nothing.
The man sniffed deeply, dipping a finger into the strange-colored medicinal liquid and tasting it with a click of his tongue.
“Thousand Poison Body Refining Soup, and not some fake or watered-down brew, but the original authentic recipe,” the big man chuckled darkly. “Something only a butcher’s descendant could never hope to get hold of—only those with fate and qualifications can.”
Leshan remained silent.
He took a deep breath as cold wind whistled through the empty doorframe, rushing in fiercely.
The man pressed his hands firmly on the glowing red cauldron, frowning as he studied Leshan’s eyes peeking out of the potion.
“Alright, I’m here for revenge.”
“But since you’re using the Thousand Poison Body Soup for training, we’re on the same path, right?”
“So today, I won’t harm you. Rules are rules, after all.”
“But remember this—you owe me a life. And that life, you’ll repay someday.”
Leshan slowly reined in the volcano-like surge of blood and aura inside him.
Rising to his feet with a body like iron plates, he glared at the man with a cold sneer. “You killed my men, and you say I owe you a life?”
The two men locked eyes, then simultaneously raised their right fists, smashing them down toward each other’s heads.
‘Bang!’
A deep muffled sound echoed as their fists collided.
The intruder stood firm, not a muscle twitching, a mocking smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Leshan, you’re too green.”
Leshan pressed his mouth tightly, but from his nostrils surged uncontrolled streams of blood rolling down like small rivers, instantly staining his chest a vivid red.
“I do owe you a life,” he spat with effort, forcing the blood choking his throat back down. “Xiong Dingtian... so you’re backing him?”
The giant’s form and visage gave Leshan a bizarre sense of familiarity.
And these past two days, the only person who hated Leshan and bore a striking resemblance to this man was none other than Xiong Dingtian — half beaten to death by Leshan.
Leshan sneered and shook his head. “How laughable. He actually betrayed the laborers and started working as a hired thug. Don’t you find that pathetic?”
The man’s dark face flushed with a hint of crimson.
Gritting his teeth, he muttered low, “Which family doesn’t have a few worthless sons?”
“Remember—You owe me a life!”
The cold wind swept into the room as the man suddenly transformed into a fierce gale, rushing out the door and vanishing without a trace within moments.
Leshan coughed up a mouthful of blood, turning the medicinal broth in the cauldron a deep crimson.
He clumsily climbed out like soft mud, collapsing onto the ground.
His body trembled violently as he wheezed for some time, muttering curses under his breath, “What bad luck is this… Xiong Dingtian, such a damn worthless seed, how did he get involved with someone like that?”
He cursed fervently and wobbly, then staggered to his feet, forcing himself out of the house.
His face twisted as he looked at the dozen or so headless corpses lying sprawled on the ground.
“My trusted men, the damn bastards, unfilial sons of a dog.”
He cursed some more, then hastily pulled on his clothes, and staggered off into the darkness.
From the night, faint muttering drifted: “Night cats break in — disaster looms… Haojing is about to go mad. Ghosts, rebels, the Nine Yin Sect — this is only the beginning.”
At Bai family’s Lantian Garden, the fire was burning fiercely.
The blaze had been lit by Lu Qian’s giant parrot, which spewed fire from the sky and ignited over a thousand points of flame almost simultaneously throughout Lantian Garden.
Driven by the cold wind, the dry wood of these wintry buildings erupted into a roaring inferno.
Scores of delicate pavilions and studies turned bright flaming blazes.
Bai Changkong’s grandchildren, their maids, apprentices, servants, and pages all scattered and ran about in chaos.
No one knew how Bai Changkong had raised his family’s manners, but these more than twenty grandchildren ran about completely naked, and shockingly, many of the maids, apprentices, and retainers also emerged unclothed from all corners.
The raging fire lit up the area as neighbors sent over help with lanterns and torches, adding even more light.
The entire Lantian Garden was illuminated like daytime, making every movement visible.
Many onlookers, including Lu Qian’s men and hired neighbors’ staff, clearly saw the chaotic scene.
Especially a few mischievous young masters from neighboring houses, wrapped in quilts, escorted by guards, came to watch the spectacle.
They immediately recognized several of the Bai family young lords who usually played together, and whether on purpose or not, these ruffians began shouting at them: “Hey, Bai brothers! What a fancy party you’re having!”
Bai Lang, Bai Xi, and several of Bai Changkong’s sons hurried over from the main courtyard.
Seeing the whole garden’s pavilions burning like great furnaces, they barely cared—just a few buildings burned down.
What did that matter? They could be rebuilt.
But when they saw their own sons and nephews being ogled by the crowd, Bai Lang and the others almost gagged with anger.
Especially when they spotted their bound kin, crying out hoarsely for help under Lu Qian’s men.
Bai Lang stamped his foot, furious, shouting, “Why aren’t you rescuing them? How dare you disgrace our family like this?”
Lu Qian chuckled mockingly and stepped forward, allowing the flames to illuminate him fully.
“Disgrace your family? Could it be they’re the legitimate heirs of the Bai family?” Lu Qian exclaimed sarcastically. “I thought they were just demons or bandits sneaking in to cause trouble during the chaos.”
Before he finished speaking, from a fake mountain some tens of yards away, a delicate five-story pavilion suddenly collapsed entirely.
More shocking, the fallen beams and pillars of the building sank directly into the mountain beneath, revealing a huge pit roughly one zhang wide at the spot.
Firelight flickered with a chaos of sparks, signifying something stirring deep within.
“Gasp!” Many nearby onlookers drew a sharp breath.
This five-story building, even on fire and collapsing, was made of substantial beams and pillars.
Inside were countless furnishings and decorations, some indestructible by fire.
The amount of debris should have piled high, but instead, the whole wreck had sunk straight into the huge pit beneath.
How enormous was this pit? How deep? Was there some hidden secret below?
Faces of Bai Lang, Bai Xi, and the others drained pale as death, as if cursed ghosts.
Bai Lang bellowed in rage, “Drive out these meddling onlookers! Get them out!”
‘Boom!’
A wild gust whipped up inside the pit of the collapsed mountain.
Several figures suddenly burst out in flames and smoke, rushing straight toward Lu Qian’s side.
The armed supervisors raised weapons to shout, but before a word was uttered, sharp cold light flashed—and their heads flew off.
Bright blood sprayed several feet high.
Happy National Day!!!
Hah, still holed up at home writing.
No need to go out and squeeze into crowded streets in this madness!
(End of chapter)