Qin Feng could no longer hold back.
Ever since he'd narrowly gained his true disciple qualification, his relationship with Young Master Liang Zhan of Tianyuan Martial Hall had been quite good.
When he learned that Chen Sanshi had joined the army, he begged Liang Zhan to pull some strings—to see if they could get Chen expelled from the garrison, making it easier to deal with him.
But then, Chen Sanshi had ended up under the command of Wang Zhi.
So, Qin Feng once again turned to Liang Zhan, asking him to host a banquet to win over that Sixth-Rank Hundred-Household.
True to his reputation, Fat Wang was both greedy and lustful. Every time they invited him, he came running, practically at their beck and call.
At first, Qin Feng thought things would go smoothly. But who would've guessed that it would take three consecutive days of wining and dining—without any results?
During the day, they treated him to fine wine and rich dishes at the Eight Treasures Restaurant. At night, there were beauties waiting at the Spring Full Pavilion.
Three days gone, and more than 20 taels of silver had vanished into smoke.
Qin Feng himself couldn't afford such extravagance.
All that money had been covered by Liang Zhan.
Still, they couldn't keep bleeding silver like this. At some point, things had to be made clear.
So tonight, Qin Feng decided to tear away the pretense.
The moment Chen Sanshi's name left his mouth, the private room fell silent.
Wang Zhi didn't respond right away. He took a slow sip of wine, then gently pushed the two women beside him aside and rose to his feet.
Step by step, he walked up to Qin Feng. His mouth curved in what might have been a smile—but there wasn't a shred of warmth in it.
"Someone named Chen, huh? Now that you mention it, I do seem to have a man by that name under me."
He leaned closer, voice lowering. "Tell me—what kind of grudge do you two have?"
Just seconds ago, this had been the same sloppy, indulgent officer laughing among courtesans. Yet now, Wang Zhi's very presence felt crushing.
Qin Feng felt an invisible pressure weigh down on him. His back stiffened, and he answered instinctively, "My lord, my older brother disappeared. I suspect that…"
"Suspect?"
Wang Zhi's right eye widened, and he leaned in so close their noses almost touched. "So, what you're saying is—you don't have any proof, do you?"
"I… I don't."
Qin Feng admitted it.
But among the dozen or so villages in the area, the only one his brother had offended—and who had the strength to act on it—was Chen Sanshi.
Suddenly, Wang Zhi's expression shifted. He burst out laughing, turning to Liang Zhan. "Young Master Liang, look at this—your disciple's got quite the sense of humor! His brother goes missing, and he just blames someone else? Isn't that ridiculous?"
"Hundred-Household Wang, I'm not making baseless claims, he—"
Qin Feng started to explain but stopped halfway.
What could he even say?
That his brother had tried to steal another man's wife and paid the price?
He glanced pleadingly at Liang Zhan.
The young master ignored him completely, nodding along with the fat officer instead. "Hundred-Household Wang makes a good point. Honestly, I think this might all just be a misunderstanding."
"Young Master…"
Qin Feng tried to speak again, but Liang Zhan shot him a sharp look, signaling him to shut up.
"Hundred-Household Wang," Liang Zhan continued, "let's drop this matter. We can drink a bit more tonight—and maybe call for two of the pavilion's top girls later."
"No need."
Wang Zhi waved his hand lazily. "Haven't you heard? The garrison's been working with your martial hall these past few days to track those barbarian assassins. We've already narrowed down the area—likely we'll find them tonight."
"I have to be there myself. Otherwise, Thousand-Household Xiang will be breathing down my neck again. We'll continue this another day."
"Oh, and about your brother," he said, clapping Qin Feng's shoulder with a heavy hand, "I'd say there's an 80 percent chance those barbarians got him. Once I catch them, I promise—I'll make sure to 'ask' where your brother went."
Two hard slaps later, Qin Feng's body shook. He almost coughed up blood.
Before he could react, Wang Zhi slung his saber across his back and swaggered out the door.
"Young Master…"
Qin Feng winced, clutching his shoulder. "What did Hundred-Household Wang mean by that?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
Liang Zhan's smile vanished, his voice low and tight. "He made it clear—don't touch that kid. Damn it all! That fat bastard's infamous for being greedy and cunning. Since when does he go out of his way to protect someone?"
Qin Feng frowned. "Then what should I do, Young Master?"
Liang Zhan flicked open his folding fan, waving it gently as he sighed. "Don't underestimate him just because he's a Sixth-Rank Hundred-Household. His background's not simple."
"He's from the Eight Northern Garrisons, and rumor has it he once had direct contact with Grand Commander Sun himself. Even after being transferred down to the Thousand-Household Division, he probably still knows a few high-ranking officials."
"Even I have to show him respect."
"So if you can avoid provoking him—don't."
He closed his fan and gave Qin Feng a pointed look. "This matter ends here."
"Ends here?"
Qin Feng's brows twisted tight, his voice rising uncontrollably. "Young Master!"
"When I say stop, you stop. You can't understand plain words?"
With a sharp crack, Liang Zhan slammed his folding fan against the table, glaring down at him. "I've already spent dozens of taels of silver on this. You think that isn't generous enough?"
"…"
Qin Feng lowered his head, not daring to argue, his fists clenching tight at his sides.
"Heh~"
Liang Zhan's tone softened again, a smile returning to his face. "Alright, Qin Feng, I know you were close to your brother. But with Wang Zhi shielding that kid, there's nothing we can do for now."
"As the saying goes, 'A gentleman's revenge can wait ten years.'"
"After that assassin incident, my father already took you in as his personal disciple. If you train properly, you'll get your chance for revenge sooner or later."
Qin Feng said nothing.
"Enough. Sit down and relax," Liang Zhan continued, glancing out the window at the deepening night. "Once evening hits, the entire city will go under curfew. Thousand-Household Xiang himself will be leading the operation tonight—they plan to catch that barbarian alive. You should stay indoors."
"Thank you for your concern, Young Master, but I can't rest easy while my brother's death goes unanswered."
Knowing there was no more help to be found here, Qin Feng bowed and took his leave.
By the time dusk fell, the sky was turning dark, and his mind was in turmoil.
Was this really it?
Should he just give up, as Liang Zhan suggested—cultivate quietly and seek revenge someday in the future?
No. Absolutely not.
The fact that Hundred-Household Wang protected Chen Sanshi so blatantly meant that brat's talent must be extraordinary.
If he delayed, the gap between them would only grow wider.
More importantly—how could he ever find peace if he didn't avenge his brother's death?
Since he was three years old, he and his brother had been orphans.
It was his elder brother, Qin Xiong, who raised him—making and selling pancakes to keep them both alive. Later, when life grew too hard, his brother had turned to darker work—moneylending, trafficking, whatever it took to survive.
But his brother… was a good man!
Now, his brother was gone—no body, no word, only silence.
The only thing he had left was the golden longevity lock his brother had given him when he was ten.
Wait.
The lock—where was it?
Qin Feng's hand shot to his neck. His face went pale. The lock that had always hung against his skin… was gone.
Impossible!
He had never taken it off—not once.
Then it hit him.
Wang Zhi!
Those heavy slaps on the shoulder earlier…
His breathing grew ragged, his vision burning red.
"Too much!" he snarled through clenched teeth. "Chen Sanshi!"
His anger flared, twisting into something sharp and cold.
If no one would help him, he'd do it himself.
He had already mastered tempering blood to the mastery stage. Killing a rookie who had just started cultivating would be effortless.
As for what would come after—he'd just have to gamble that it wouldn't matter.
His decision made, Qin Feng moved swiftly.
Before the city gates closed for the night, he slipped past the inspection and left Poyang County, heading straight for Swallow-Edge Village.
When he reached his home, it was silent.
No more laughter, no clinking of cups, no trace of his brother's voice. The emptiness burned in his chest like acid.
Rage bubbled to the surface. He tore through the room, opening boxes and cabinets until he found a set of black clothes.
He dressed quickly, wrapped his face in a black cloth, and sat down in the middle of the room, his sword resting across his lap.
He closed his eyes, palms gripping the hilt tightly, steadying his breath.
He would wait for the dead of night—then he would strike.
"Caw—caw—"
The sound of a night crow echoed through the still air.
Midnight.
Qin Feng's eyes snapped open, glowing red in the darkness.
He rose, sword in hand, and stepped toward the door—
But before he could push it open, a faint, chilling voice drifted in from outside.
"Qin Feng."
"You brother sent me—to take you to see him."