Ye Fan didn't retreat. Instead, he charged forward, fists clenched, vital energy swirling around him.
The two groups collided.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
After several thunderous impacts, every one of Luo Fu's men lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in agony.
The sight stunned both Su Xi and Luo Fu. These weren't amateurs—each possessed Qi Refining Tier 2 strength. Yet Ye Fan, supposedly crippled, had dismantled them in seconds. How? The family elders themselves had confirmed his dantian was shattered!
Fear flickered across Luo Fu's sweaty face.
"Ye Fan... your cultivation... it wasn't destroyed? Impossible! Third Young Master said—"Ye Fan's head snapped up. Killing intent, sharp as blades, pinned Luo Fu. Two strides closed the distance. A hand clamped around the steward's throat, hoisting his bulky frame off the ground.
"Ye Feng? What did Ye Feng say?"
Reborn, Ye Fan held no reverence for the Ye family or its so-called "Young Masters." Names sufficed.
Luo Fu choked, legs kicking uselessly. His voice turned shrill:
"Ye Fan! Release me! This has nothing to do with Third Young Master! I'm a Ye steward! Attacking me violates clan law!"
"What. Did. Ye. Feng. Say? Was my crippling... planned?"
Ye Fan's grip tightened, his voice glacial.
In his past life, suspicions had festered. The Ye family, while not the capital's strongest, held significant power. Rivalries existed, but open assassination attempts on heirs? Unheard of.
Moreover, Ye Linglong's trip to Skybeast Mountain had been impulsive. Yet the ambush felt meticulously orchestrated—as if her route was known beforehand.
And Ye Linglong herself... why flee toward desolate cliffs instead of the scenic Beast Pavilion? No logic. No purpose.
Then, the Shattering Stone Palm—a signature Ye technique, guarded fiercely. How did an outsider master it?
The pieces aligned. Someone had orchestrated his fall.
"I know nothing! Release me! The family will exile you for this!"
Luo Fu wheezed, face purpling from lack of air.
A cold glint flashed in Ye Fan's eyes. Silent? Fine. He'd test the man's resolve. Exile? A meaningless threat to one who'd already lost everything.
Ye Fan slammed Luo Fu into the dirt. "Speak. Or don't."
"You're finished! The clan will skin you alive—!"
Lift. SMASH. Lift. SMASH.
Luo Fu shrieked with each impact but spat threats, refusing to yield.
With a snarl, Ye Fan hurled him down a final time. Then—
CRUNCH.
Ye Fan's boot stamped down on Luo Fu's groin.
"GYAAAAAAAAH!"
The steward's scream pierced the air. His face turned corpse-white, eyes wide with disbelief and venom. He actually... crushed me...
Abruptly, Ye Fan's expression softened. He turned to Su Xi.
"Mom, return to your room. I'll join you shortly."
"Son... this... we..."
Su Xi trembled, voice fragile.
"Trust me, Mom. I'll handle this."
A gentle smile touched Ye Fan's lips. A century... yet her face never faded. Seeing her again, alive and vulnerable, tightened his chest.
His mother was gentle, easily frightened. He wouldn't let her witness the brutality to come.
Su Xi glanced at the moaning Luo Fu and the fallen guards. Fear prickled her heart. This ruthlessness... Is this still my kind son? And his wounds... healed? Questions swirled, unspoken. She nodded silently and retreated, closing her chamber door firmly.
As her footsteps faded, Ye Fan's warmth vanished. A cruel, icy smile twisted his lips.
He turned back to the whimpering steward. Striding to a fallen guard, he picked up a long blade.
Then—
SWISH!
The guard's head tumbled free.
These vermin tormented me relentlessly in that past life. Ye Fan was no saint to forgive. Back then, he'd been powerless. Now? Never again.
He would seize his fate. His mother would suffer no more.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Eight strikes. Eight heads rolled away.
Luo Fu stared, paralyzed. Even the agony below faded under the chilling terror. Cold sweat drenched his face.
He killed them... He actually killed them! Is he insane?!
Ye Fan lifted the blood-slicked blade and approached. A foul stench hit him—urine and fear. Pathetic.
"Still... know nothing?"
The blade's edge kissed Luo Fu's throat.
"I-I'll talk! Spare me, Young Master Ye! Spare me!"
Luo Fu begged, writhing sideways, too broken to kneel.
Ye Fan crouched, eyes like frozen obsidian.
"Spare you? You die regardless. No one insults my mother. But talk, and only you die. Stay silent..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "...your wife. Your children. All. Die."
He stood, turning his back. "Choose."
Luo Fu's face turned ashen. Greed... I brought this demon upon myself. He slumped, defeated.
"Third Young Master... he said you took a Shattering Stone Palm... dantian shattered... Told me to... 'take care' of you..."
"How thoughtful of him," Ye Fan mocked, ice coating each word.
"How thoughtful of him—showing such concern, even probing what Combat Art wounded me... Isn't that ironic? Or perhaps... the very one who struck me was sent by his hand!"
"I swear! That's all I know! Please... spare my family!" Luo Fu pleaded, voice cracking.
"I keep my promises."
Ye Fan raised the blade.
"HALT!"
A clear, commanding voice rang out.