Inside Ding Jing's room.
The oil lamp flickered dimly, shadows stretching long across the chamber.
Ding Jing sat stiffly on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, his face carved into a cold mask of thought.
Beside the study table, Ding Chao stood with his arms clenched, pacing like a restless wolf.
"Haha…" Ding Chao suddenly burst out, his laughter harsh and hollow.
His lips twisted with disdain as his voice dripped venom. "So he thrashed your plan? You call yourself clever, but you're nothing but a fool, Jing. You'll never be able to take my revenge. Never!"
His voice cracked at the end, not with weakness but with rage suppressed for too long.
"You sit here, plotting like a rat while that bastard Xue Wen struts around, slapping our people in broad daylight! Looks like I'll have to rip him apart with my own hands, even if the Patriarch cuts me down for it." Ding Chao's eyes gleamed with a murderous glint, his chest heaving as killing intent leaked out of him like a foul stench.
Ding Jing's lip curled in disdain.
He snorted coldly, eyes narrowing. "You fool. Do you think charging at him like a mad dog will solve anything? Father is on the verge of breaking through to the Marrow Induction Realm. Once he succeeds, the so-called Patriarch won't live to see another sunrise. Father will seize the seat, and we will rise with him. Until then, do not do anything reckless."
Ding Chao froze, his expression twisting.
His fists trembled as he spun toward his brother, hatred flashing in his eyes. "You… You always take father's side. Even after he forced my wife..." his voice cracked, raw pain spilling out, "...if you had stood beside me then, given testimony, our father would have rotted in the dungeon under the Patriarch's command! But you didn't. And because of you...because of both of you...my Huiling is gone. You killed her!"
Tears gathered in his eyes, his chest rising and falling like a storm-tossed sea.
Ding Jing's face darkened.
He shot to his feet, eyes blazing with fury. "You dare speak like this? Throw our father into the dungeon? And what then? With our pitiful two-star Awakening talent, do you think we would ever break into the Bone Reforming Realm? Or even dream of the Marrow Induction Realm? Without father, we would be nobodies in this clan! Garbage! But now, now, for the first time, we have a chance!" His words struck like blades, his voice trembling with conviction.
But Ding Chao roared back, slamming his fist against the wooden desk, splinters scattering. "What use is chance? What use is respect? I never wanted glory or power! I was happy, damn you! I had Huiling, and that was enough!" His voice broke, the anguish of loss pouring out with each syllable.
Ding Jing's chest heaved, but he forced himself to inhale slowly, suppressing the anger that boiled in him.
He sat back down, eyes narrowing into slits, his voice cold and calm now, like venom dripping from a serpent's fangs.
"What's done is done. The dead cannot return, Chao. But the living, us, we still have futures to claim. If father takes the Patriarch's seat, we will live as kings within these walls. Food, women, cultivation resources, everything we once dreamed of will be within our grasp. That is the path forward."
He leaned forward, his tone dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "And as for your revenge… oh, we will have it. If we capture Ding Mei and defile her, then toss her corpse before the Patriarch's eyes, do you think he will remain calm? No. He will lose control. And in that moment of weakness, father will strike and claim everything."
Ding Chao's breath hitched.
His fists loosened as his mind wavered, torn between grief, rage, and temptation.
Ding Jing's gaze sharpened. He pressed harder. "Not only that… we will break Xue Wen first. We'll humiliate him until he makes a fatal mistake. Then, before his pitiful wife's eyes, we'll defile her, shatter her, and kill him. That way, you'll have your vengeance, and father will seize the clan."
Ding Chao said nothing at first.
But slowly, ever so slowly, his trembling subsided.
His eyes, once blurred with tears, now gleamed with a cruel, hateful light.
He remembered Xue Wen's smirk, the disdain in his gaze, and humiliation burned hot in his chest.
His lips curled in a malicious grin.
"There is still a month," Ding Jing continued smoothly. "A month to set the trap. We first drag Xue Wen through the mud, let his arrogance grow, then push him into a mistake he cannot escape. That will be the perfect time to capture him."
He leaned back, exhaling, already weaving the outlines of a plan in his mind.
Ding Chao finally nodded, silent but resolute.
With one last hateful glance at his brother, he turned and stormed out of the room.
Ding Jing sat in the silence that followed, his fingers drumming on the armrest.
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "Xue Wen… enjoy your brief moment of glory. Soon, you'll drown in despair."
Meanwhile…
Xue Wen returned to his modest house with a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
A small cloth bag hung at his waist, filled with the various supplies he had bought from the clan.
On his other side was a smaller pouch that jingled softly, still holding fifteen Essence Beads, the remainder after his spending spree.
The others had gone toward small luxuries and thoughtful purchases, some for himself and some for Ding Mei.
As he pushed open the door, a gentle aroma greeted him, warm, savory, inviting.
His stomach growled at once, hunger surging after the long day.
The golden hues of the setting sun streamed in through the windows, casting a soft glow across the kitchen.
There, Ding Mei stood, her delicate figure outlined by the evening light as she stirred a pot.
Her movements were graceful, almost ethereal, as though she belonged to a painting rather than the harsh world of the Ding Clan.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and instantly her cheeks flushed pink.
The memory of the morning's bold kiss burned in her mind, making her heart race.
Yet despite her embarrassment, she quickly walked over and relieved him of the bag, setting it gently on a nearby chair.
"Please, sit down," she said in her soft, shy tone.
Xue Wen smiled faintly and obeyed, lowering himself onto the chair.
Moments later, she returned with a steaming cup of tea and placed it before him with both hands, her gaze lowered.
"Thanks," he said warmly.
Ding Mei only gave a timid nod, her lips pressed together, before she turned away.
After a brief rustle, she returned carrying a small wooden bucket filled with warm water.
Carefully placing it at his feet, she knelt down gracefully, her robes brushing the floor.
Before Xue Wen could protest, her slender hands lifted his legs gently, lowering them into the warm water.
Then, with practiced care, she began massaging his calves and feet, her delicate fingers applying just the right amount of pressure.
Xue Wen blinked, stunned for a moment. "Mei'er, you don't have to..."
But the sight of her smiling faintly, clearly content with the act, stopped him.
He couldn't bring himself to refuse.
His lips quirked upward in helplessness, and he leaned back, letting the warmth of both the water and her touch seep into him.
His thoughts drifted back to the morning, to the moment when her lips had touched his cheek.
Even now, his heart beat a little faster recalling it.
'Even I'm being affected by her shyness,' he mused, chuckling inwardly. His chest loosened, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to simply relax, soaking in the quiet, fragile peace of this fleeting moment.