C6 The Great Enmity Was Avenged!

"Is that the kid? If he's still breathing, I'll have to give back those ten acres of prime farmland. No, he must be eliminated!" Minister Zhou's corpulent face twisted with malice as he pointed a chubby finger at Feng Yimo. "Kill him! A reward of ten taels of silver to whoever takes him down!"

"Kill!"

The servants' eyes blazed with greed upon hearing this; ten taels of silver was a fortune, equivalent to half a year's wages. They brandished their weapons and charged, each one looking like a demon from hell, targeting Feng Yimo's head, heart, and other vital areas. A few despicable ones even swung their swords at Feng Yimo's groin.

Feng Yimo, witnessing the servants' ruthless and lethal strikes, was incensed. True to the saying, 'like master, like servant.' Minister Zhou was notorious for oppressing the good and committing unspeakable acts, earning him the nickname 'Zhou the Skinflayer.' His henchmen, emboldened by their master's influence, regarded human life as worthless. Zhou Huai was a prime example. With this in mind, Feng Yimo saw no reason to hold back. With a flick of his broken sword, the oncoming weapons shattered as easily as slicing through butter.

The servants recoiled in shock, hesitant to advance. Zhou the Skinflayer, however, couldn't take his eyes off the broken sword in Feng Yimo's grasp, his avarice plain to see. "A fine sword, a splendid treasure! Such a prize should be mine. Come, who will seize this sword for me? A hundred taels of silver to the one who succeeds!"

The promise of a hefty reward spurred the once-retreating servants into a frenzy. Feng Yimo couldn't help but laugh at their reckless greed. With agile wrist flicks and swift footwork, he moved like a specter among them. By the time he faced Minister Zhou, the thirty servants behind him were all motionless, frozen in place. Then, one by one, they collapsed. Some had their throats slit, others bore two-foot-long gashes across their chests, and a few had their heads severed, spurting blood several feet into the air. No one was spared. The ground was littered with dismembered limbs, and blood flowed like a river, the stench of it filling the air.

Feng Yimo's worn long robe remained unstained by even a single drop of blood. He watched with an icy gaze as Zhou Huai and Minister Zhou stood petrified, their expressions suggesting their souls had fled their bodies. "Your turn," he said coolly. "Who's first?"

He refrained from dispatching the pair immediately, preferring to let them stew in their dread a while longer, to let fear saturate their hearts and give them a foretaste of death.

With a thud, Zhou Huai dropped his lantern and fell to his knees, his head hitting the ground repeatedly in desperation. "Please, Young Master Feng, spare my life! It was all Zhou's doing. He coveted your family's ten acres of prime farmland and coerced me into forging that IOU to seize your lands. If someone must die, let it be him. I'm merely a steward; I've never had the stomach for violence. It was all his doing!"

Minister Zhou, quivering with rage, attempted to kick Zhou Huai but collapsed in fear under Feng Yimo's piercing stare. Groveling, he pleaded, "Young Feng, let's make a deal. We inadvertently harmed your parents, and you've slain over thirty of our men. I'll restore the ten acres of farmland to your family and add a hundred taels of silver for good measure. Can we call it even?"

Feng Yimo regarded the corpulent Zhou with astonishment. Even now, the man haggled shamelessly. Such greed was truly exceptional. Without another word, Feng Yimo's broken sword glided across Minister Zhou's neck, tracing a crimson line across the flesh. As Minister Zhou clutched at the gushing wound, his blood sprayed over Zhou Huai, who was cowering on the ground. Overcome by the scent and warmth of the blood, Zhou Huai screamed in terror, "Don't kill me, don't kill me! I know where Zhou's most valuable possessions are hidden!"

Zhou Huai's eyes bulged in terror as he released his grip, collapsing onto Zhou Huai's body. His hands, slick with his own blood, clutched at Zhou Huai's throat, his voice a choked whisper, "Don't speak, don't..."

Feng Yimo swiftly kicked the miser aside, hoisting Zhou Huai up with his left hand, "Lead the way!" Chaos reigned in the Zhou Family courtyard; Zhou Huai's aunts scattered in every direction, while the maidservants and servants vanished without a trace. With the master dead, their contracts were void, and there was no better time to flee. Amidst the pandemonium, lanterns and torches were knocked over, igniting a fierce blaze.

Trembling, Zhou Huai guided Feng Yimo to the main hall, circled the screen, and entered the study. "Behind the second bookshelf, there's a hidden compartment with all the valuables—land deeds, silver notes, even gold bars..." His confession was cut short as a chill spread across his back and a sword blade jutted from his chest. Feng Yimo's voice was calm, "In your next life, try not to be a villain."

The body hit the floor with a thud, blood staining the ground. Feng Yimo slashed open the second bookshelf, revealing a two-foot square secret compartment in the wall. Another swift stroke and the steel plate concealing the compartment was sliced open, exposing a box within. He seized the box, but as he was about to inspect it, his attention was drawn to the night sky. Without a moment's hesitation, he tucked the box into his Storage Bag.

A streak of light cut through the dark sky—not lightning, but a Taoist priest in flowing green robes, gliding on a sword and landing with poise in the courtyard. With a beckoning gesture, a white short sword leapt from the ground into his hand. Surveying the carnage, he furrowed his brow, "Young one, your thirst for blood is excessive. Why have you slain so many?"

Feng Yimo stood his ground, his Divine Sense having already discerned that the man before him was at the pinnacle of the second level of the Qi Training Period, yet capable of sword flight—a feat far surpassing the cultivators of the Tianjing Continent. The man's celestial bearing, his white hair and radiant complexion, and the white horsetail whisk slung across his back only added to his otherworldly presence.

"Dao Friend, you may not be aware, but this man, Zhou Pihou, schemed over a mere ten acres of farmland. He manipulated my father's debt from five taels of silver to fifty, then sent his brutal servants to aggressively demand payment, which led to my father's accidental death. To hide his crime, he tried to burn us out, killing my mother and nearly me. Tell me, isn't that a vendetta worth pursuing?" Feng Yimo said, his fists respectfully clasped, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.

The old Taoist scrutinized Feng Yimo, his face etched with skepticism. "You, you're a cultivator?" He was puzzled, unable to penetrate the enigma of the youth before him. There seemed to be a faint pulse of spiritual energy about the young man, yet it was elusive, uncertain.

Feng Yimo nodded, "I've only just begun the first level of Qi Training and have yet to learn your esteemed Taoist name."

"I am Chi Yangzi, a disciple of the Yin-yang Sect, the premier cultivation sect of the State of Qin. As a fellow cultivator, surely you know we must not harbor murderous intentions towards mortals. Any cultivator who indulges in such slaughter can be rightfully executed by their peers. Surrender yourself!" The old Taoist's words were laced with moral fervor, his hair and beard wildly animated in the flickering firelight, casting a bizarre silhouette.

"Pah! Since when is the Yin-yang Sect the foremost in Qin? Our Hundred Laughing Sect holds that title. Young man, pay no mind to this old fool's drivel. Life is about relishing retribution and settling scores. If you're wronged, seek justice. Don't bother with pretense. You did right by eliminating such scum, and you have my full support!" Out of nowhere, a vibrant young woman in her late teens appeared, perched on a large tree in the courtyard. Clad in a red dress, her smooth, fair legs swung playfully as she cracked melon seeds, speaking her mind unabashedly.

With a wry smile, Feng Yimo shook his head. Another member from the Hundred Laughing Sect? A spirited girl, quite striking, yet with a touch of impetuousness.