Chapter Thirty-Two: Relentlessly Pressing the Attack

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Although Wuzhen was no longer in mortal danger, he would still need a period of recuperation before his injuries could fully heal. When Wushu entered his younger brother’s room, he saw Wuzhen sitting cross-legged on the bed and immediately noticed that someone had arranged a simple Blood-and-Flesh Circulation Formation beneath it. With the aid of this formation, the hidden injuries within Wuzhen’s body would also receive effective treatment.

Looking at the simple formation before him, Wushu could not help feeling that everything had suddenly become more interesting.

The Blood-and-Flesh Circulation Formation in his younger brother’s room had certainly been arranged by Zhao Fenxing. At present, no one among the younger members of the Wu clan was proficient in formations. Yet if Zhao Fenxing had been the one to arrange it, then even if this was her first attempt at creating such a formation, given her abilities, she should have been able to produce something far better than the simple formation before him.

Was Zhao Fenxing deliberately slowing Wuzhen’s recovery?

Wanting to help his younger brother recover as quickly as possible, Wushu casually drew a short blade from the room and began completing the formation inscriptions on the spirit stones arranged around Wuzhen’s bed.

After suppressing the Ancestor of the Night Demons, Wushu could no longer condense formation inscriptions directly through spiritual imprints. He had to carve them by hand, piece by piece. Even for such a simple Blood-and-Flesh Circulation Formation, the work took him a full quarter of an hour.

Once he had completed the formation, Wushu looked at his younger brother with satisfaction.

By then, he was well aware that Wuzhen had sensed his presence the instant he entered the room. When Wuzhen heard him draw the short blade, the aura around his body became disordered. No matter how one looked at it, Wuzhen had evidently mistaken him for an enemy.

Only after Wushu continuously carved the inscriptions into the spirit stones did Wuzhen realize that the formation surrounding him had been greatly strengthened, and only then did he relax. While steadying his cultivation aura, Wuzhen had even once cracked open his eyes to steal a glance at Wushu. Though it had all happened seemingly without intention, none of it had escaped Wushu’s perception.

Wushu had never expected that, after so many years apart, even the bond between him and his younger brother would have grown distant.

He was in no hurry to prove anything. True blood ties required the tempering of time.

After completing the formation, Wushu did not wish to disturb his younger brother, who was striving to recover. He turned to leave, but just as he was about to step out of the room, Wuzhen spoke.

“Brother.”

After so many years apart, Wuzhen had indeed had many things he wished to say to Wushu. Yet he had spent all his days immersed in cultivation and was not skilled with words. For a moment, he did not know where to begin.

After a pause, Wushu said, “You’re awake.”

Wuzhen nodded but said nothing more.

With a relaxed smile, Wushu said, “Rest well. I’ll handle everything that comes next.”

With that, he turned and left.

How long had it been? How many years had passed? At last, Wuzhen had once again found the feeling of family. The corners of his eyes grew moist.

After leaving his younger brother’s room, Wushu returned to the pavilion. Seeing that the servants had already prepared the meal, he had intended to eat his fill first. Who cared about the imperial clan or the demon clan? If some fool truly came knocking to seek death, he would simply kill them.

However, before he had eaten more than a few bites, he heard the guard outside call out loudly, “Greetings, Young Master Wuwen!”

Wushu had not yet had the chance to ask his younger brother about the circumstances of Wuzhen’s severe injuries, yet Wuwen, the man who had dealt him such a cruel blow, had come uninvited. Besides, Wushu did not remember there being guards stationed outside the entrance to this small courtyard.

Before long, a maid appeared before him and respectfully said, “Lord Wushu, Miss Fenxing, Young Master Wuwen requests an audience.”

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Looking at the maid before him, Wushu said irritably, “Who are you?”

The maid hurriedly knelt and replied, “Answering you, my lord, I am Little Cui, a newly recruited maid of the Wu Residence. From now on, I will obey all your instructions.”

Not wishing to make things difficult for her, Wushu gestured dismissively. “Leave.”

The maid, Little Cui, hurriedly rose and retreated to the side, respectfully saying, “Yes, my lord.”

The fact that this newly arrived maid addressed him as “my lord” greatly surprised Wushu. In a clan like the Wu family, not a single person was addressed in such a manner. Even the head of the Wu family was respectfully called the Clan Leader within the family.

Yet the title “my lord” carried implications that seemed extremely subtle. Within the Kingdom of Kun, anyone who could be addressed that way had to possess the recognition of the imperial family.

Now that even the maid had deliberately called him “my lord,” it was obvious that someone was directing the people of the Wu family to act this way behind the scenes. All of this was likely intended for Zhao Fenxing’s benefit.

After thinking it over briefly, Wushu felt that the only people in East Lodge City capable of such petty scheming were those from the City Lord’s Residence.

Before he realized it, the moon had already reached the middle of the sky. After finishing the inscriptions on another low-grade spirit stone, Wushu said, “Little Cui, go tell Wuwen that I will see him.”

Little Cui had been standing guard nearby all this time. Knowing that Wuwen and the others had been waiting outside while Wushu kept refusing to meet them, she had been filled with anxiety.

Who was Wuwen? His father was none other than Wu Xiang, the current head of the Wu family. If Wuwen were angered, Little Cui dared not imagine what might happen next.

Thus, when she heard that Wushu had agreed to meet him, Little Cui said happily, “My lord, I’ll deliver the message at once.”

Wuwen did not come alone. A young woman accompanied him.

When the two approached, Wushu looked them over before saying, “Sister Jing, were you involved in what happened to Wuzhen?”

After gently stroking the flower-patterned cat in her arms twice, Wu Jing replied unhurriedly, “That’s right. Wuzhen’s injuries were caused by me.”

She had left Wuzhen severely wounded in bed. Had he not received timely treatment, no one could say what condition he would have ended up in. Yet when Wu Jing spoke of it, she seemed utterly unconcerned.

Originally, after making Wuwen and Wu Jing wait outside for so long, Wushu had intended to punish them lightly and then see what his younger brother wanted. But after witnessing Wu Jing’s attitude, anger rose within him.

Wushu said coldly, “Did you come here today to use this matter to provoke me? Or do you want to experience what it feels like to court death?”

His words made Wu Jing truly want to fight him. Positions within the family were not obtained through words or appearances alone.

Wuwen had already witnessed Wushu’s methods. Several days earlier, when Wushu had been only at the third level of Body Tempering, his elder brother Wu Xiang—whose strength had reached the peak of the eighth level—had been utterly powerless before him. Now Wushu had reached the peak of the ninth level of Body Tempering. If he truly attacked with all his strength, Wuwen seriously doubted whether he and Wu Jing could withstand even a single blow.

Wuwen said in a low voice, “Wushu, you know very well that we have no such intention.”

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Seeing Wuwen lower himself and concede so openly, Wu Jing gave an indignant snort and turned her head away.

Since Wuwen had already put things that way, Wushu calmed himself and said, “Little Cui, you may leave.”

After sending Little Cui away, Wushu continued, “I do want to hear why you came.”

Wuwen answered without the slightest hesitation. “Recently, the Flame Tower, the clan’s sacred ground for artifact refinement, lit up for no apparent reason. According to the clan elders, this is a sign that the family is about to produce a prodigy of artifact refinement.”

So that was the reason Wuwen and Wu Jing had come. They had not come to apologize for leaving his younger brother severely wounded.

Wushu said unhappily, “I have no interest in such matters. If there is nothing else, then leave.”

Looking coldly at Wu Jing, he deliberately emphasized each word. “Perhaps you think you are exceptionally talented. Perhaps you believe you have a powerful backer. I will tell you only this: before you drive me completely into a rage, get out.”

When Wushu looked at her, Wu Jing still wore an expression of disdain. But when he glanced at the flower-patterned cat in her arms, a trace of unease stirred in her heart. Wu Jing refused to believe that Wushu could discover that the cat in her arms was actually a transformed beast.

Wushu’s aggressive words finally caused all the resentment in Wu Jing’s heart to erupt.

She shouted angrily, “Boy, you have been gone for years, and now you return acting as though you stand above everyone else. Let me tell you this: the moment I learned that you were closely connected to people from the Zhao family, I began to despise you. The descendants of the Wu family may lose their heads and shed their blood, but they must never lose their dignity.”

Wu Jing glanced at Zhao Fenxing again. “If she had not been here, I would never have regretted killing Wuzhen that day.”

Wushu rose directly to his feet and stared coldly at Wu Jing.

He shouted harshly, “Flame-Clawed Beast King, get outside and wait. Otherwise, this day next year will be your death anniversary.”

After exposing the true identity of the Flame-Clawed Beast King in Wu Jing’s arms, Wushu summoned the Monument Stone into his hand. He was already furious and prepared to teach Wu Jing a lesson.

The Flame-Clawed Beast King was not surprised in the least that Wushu had called it out. It had already received information about him. Being so angrily rebuked by a junior naturally irritated it. Yet the moment it saw the Monument Stone in Wushu’s hand, its displeasure vanished. A man capable of subduing a Monument Spirit—Wushu truly was the first such person on the Thick Earth Continent.

The flower-patterned cat wriggled free from Wu Jing’s arms, meowed several times at Wushu, and then walked away without looking back, leaving Wu Jing standing there in complete shock.

When Wushu advanced toward her, Wu Jing prepared herself for battle. But the enraged Wushu suddenly sensed someone concealed in the shadows nearby. He had no choice but to turn toward that spot and say, “You’ve been here for quite some time, haven’t you? Come out.”

The newcomer had been watching with the air of someone enjoying a spectacle as Wushu and Wu Jing glared at each other, seemingly on the verge of launching into battle. The only flaw was that, when the fight appeared imminent, the newcomer became so excited that her movements grew too obvious. She had nearly shouted aloud, “Fight! Fight!”

That was how Wushu detected her presence.

Wuwen and Wu Jing also followed Wushu’s gaze, but neither of them saw anything. Wu Jing even began to wonder whether the years apart had damaged Wushu’s mind.

At that moment, Wushu spoke again.

“Ying Meier, if you still refuse to show yourself, I won’t be polite.”