"AHH! My Dantian! You crippled my Dantian! Ye Fan, how dare you?! I'll kill you!!"
Lin Mufei's scream was laced with venomous hatred.
Ye Fan drew the Voidstep Sword, pressing its cold edge against Lin Mufei's throat. "What gives a mere first-tier clan's heir the right to insult a prince? If I kill you today, what can your Lin Clan possibly do?"
The blade twitched. Instead of fear, Lin Mufei sneered: "Prince? Hah! You're just a lucky dog who stumbled into nobility! How do you know the Dragon's Roar Fist? Did you steal my clan's techniques?"
"Steal from your clan?" Ye Fan's voice dripped with disdain. "Your 'Dragon's Roar Fist' is nothing but a fragmentary manual—not even perfected. My strike carried the true dragon's resonance. The difference is obvious. Why would I need to steal from trash like you?"
His foot pressed down, grinding Lin Mufei's face into the stone. "A waste like you dares bark at me? Call me 'bastard' again, and I'll end you."
The Voidstep Sword flashed. A tendon in Lin Mufei's right wrist snapped. As Ye Fan sheathed his blade, the nobleman's scream pierced the air.
"Ye Fan! You fatherless bastard! Kill me if you dare! Worthless trash!"
Ye Fan's foot lifted—then slammed down. "Seeking death!"
"STOP!"
A voice boomed from the estate. Ye Fan ignored it. Vital energy erupted under his sole—Lin Mufei's heart meridians shattered. The nobleman's eyes bulged as his insults died mid-breath.
Third Prince Beigong Qingtian emerged, his handsome face dark with anger. The spectators murmured but showed little concern—Lin Mufei's Qi Refining Level Five had made him the weakest here.
Yet Ye Fan's ruthlessness sent chills through the crowd.
"I've already killed Lin Mucheng." Ye Fan kicked the corpse toward Lin clansmen. "One more Lin whelp changes nothing. Let your patriarch come!"
The guards trembled, blades half-drawn.
"I am a prince of Chu!" Ye Fan's voice cracked like a whip. "Draw steel, and I'll exterminate your bloodlines!"
The threat froze them. For all the rumors, his title was real—second only to the imperial family here. The guards retreated, bearing their dead master away. Their captain glared.
"This isn't over, Prince Ye."
"Tell Lin Teng I await his vengeance." Ye Fan's smile was razor-thin. "What's one more clan to bury?"
"Such magnificence!"
Beigong Qingtian's sarcasm dripped as he approached, Beigong Xue trailing with visible disgust. How could Father favor this butcher?
Ye Fan turned, unruffled. "Third Prince, was tonight's banquet meant to humiliate me? Or is this farce your design?"
The barb struck home. Beigong Qingtian stiffened. To admit scheming would insult his father's decree.
"I was detained in the rear gardens," he lied smoothly. "But to kill at my gates—you slight my standing."
"He called me 'bastard.'" Ye Fan's gaze never wavered. "Should I have knelt in thanks?"
"Of course not!" The prince forced a laugh. "Come! Tonight celebrates your new role—my sister's personal instructor!"
He emphasized personal, watching the crowd react. Four figures in particular tensed:
Qian Hong - Chancellor's son, Heaven-Grade Two Stars, a martial prodigy.Ding Chunqiu - Imperial Alchemist's heir, peerless in potions.Donghuang Yu - Scion of the Donghuang Clan, peerless movement arts.Shangguan Feidu - Twin perfected techniques, hailed as a genius.
These four—with Beigong Qingtian—formed Chu's Five Young Lords. And all coveted Beigong Xue.
Seating arrangements placed Ye Fan beside the princess. Her downcast eyes and pout sent the four lords into silent fury.
"A toast!" The prince raised his cup. "To my sister's new master!"
As Ye Fan reciprocated, a voice cut through:
"Hold! Not just anyone is fit to teach Her Highness!"