C13 The City Lord Came to Visit

Ye Bufan finally breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped away from the intense gazes within the ancestral temple. The first light of dawn brought with it a wave of fatigue that he couldn't resist.

Meanwhile, Ye Tianzhan stood just beyond the protective ring of the "Tiger Guards," awaiting Ye Bufan's exit. His gaze was as fervent as those he had left behind in the temple.

"He couldn't have figured out that I concocted the Body Tempering Liquid, could he?" Ye Bufan mused internally, managing to keep his expression unchanged.

"Third brother, a moment, please!" Ye Tianzhan called out. Ye Bufan inwardly sighed. Inevitable confrontations always find their time.

"What is it, big brother?" Ye Bufan feigned confusion. Despite everything, he held a certain fondness for Ye Tianzhan. Over the years, Ye Tianzhan had often come to his aid when he stirred up trouble, driven more by his love for battle than brotherly affection. But Ye Bufan couldn't deny the bond they shared.

"I challenge you!" declared Ye Tianzhan, his aura brimming with the desire to fight.

You've got to be kidding, more fighting? Isn't he usually challenging our uncles? "Big brother, you must be jesting. You've reached the Eighth Rank of Power Stage, while I'm still at the Seventh. Perhaps we could spar once I've ascended to the Eighth Rank?" Ye Bufan suggested, rubbing his temple in exasperation.

"If you can defeat Lin Feiyang, you're certainly worthy of my challenge," Ye Tianzhan insisted, locking eyes with him.

Oh no, why did this lunatic pick me? "Look, big brother, I... I'm still nursing injuries. I'm in no shape for another bout. Let's say, give me ten days or so to heal, and then I'll seek you out for that fight, agreed?" Ye Bufan proposed, hoping to buy some time.

"Fine, we'll fight once you're healed," Ye Tianzhan relented, his fighting spirit subsiding.

Relieved, Ye Bufan headed for his room. After a sleepless night, exhaustion weighed heavily on him.

But after only a few steps, Ye Bufan realized something was amiss—Ye Tianzhan was following him. It dawned on him then, the legend of his brother: once Ye Tianzhan issued a challenge, he would persist until it was met. Turning back, Ye Bufan said, "Big brother, what about..."

Ye Tianzhan spoke without a hint of emotion, "I'll stay by your side for now. Once your injuries have fully healed, we'll begin our battle immediately!"

As his elder brother, Ye Tianzhan couldn't just leave Ye Bufan to sleep with him standing guard outside the door. Yet, having a grown man in the room made it awkward for Ye Bufan to relax and sleep.

"Let's head to the Martial Arts Hall," Ye Bufan said, turning his head. A trace of a smile flickered across Ye Tianzhan's face as he followed.

The Ye family had stirred up quite a stir the previous night, prompting nearly all the third-generation disciples to keep vigil outside the ancestral temple, foregoing sleep. Now, as they watched Ye Bufan and Ye Tianzhan stride toward the Martial Arts Hall, they couldn't help but trail behind, along with a number of servants.

Having only heard secondhand accounts of Ye Bufan's battle the day before, they were eager to witness his prowess firsthand and wouldn't dream of missing the opportunity.

In the C-grade Martial Arts Hall, the two selected a corner ring and leaped into it.

Ye Tianzhan had long been regarded as the foremost among the Ye family's third-generation disciples. However, Ye Bufan's victory over Lin Feiyang had begun to shake that standing. Yet, Ye Tianzhan harbored no jealousy or displeasure. Instead, he was elated to have gained another formidable rival.

Their spar was a friendly exchange; neither drew their weapons.

Ye Tianzhan stood on the platform, fists clenched, radiating an intense desire for battle. The air around him seemed to thicken with an invisible pressure, and he loomed like a mountain, ready to unleash a devastating attack at the slightest provocation.

In contrast, Ye Bufan stood casually on the opposite side, legs slightly apart, hands hanging loosely at his sides, seemingly devoid of any pre-fight tension. Nevertheless, his relaxed demeanor exerted an unseen pressure on Ye Tianzhan. Through his eyes, Ye Bufan was like an unsheathed sword, poised to launch an endless onslaught with any move he made.

Ye Tiannan, often at odds with Ye Bufan, could not deny the latter's talent. Having reached the sixth rank of the Power Stage by fourteen, he too sensed the boundless sword intent emanating from Ye Bufan. How had he become so formidable? It was as if he had transformed into an entirely new person overnight.

Ye Tianzhan's gaze was locked onto Ye Bufan with an intensity that belied his inner struggle. Time and again, he fought the urge to strike, his forehead glistening with sweat. This was uncharted territory for Ye Tianzhan; not even his encounters with his uncle, a fourth-rank Qi Stage master, had ever subjected him to such pressure.

He could wait no longer!

"Rushing Lightning Strike!" Lin Tianzhan bellowed, conjuring a barrage of fist shadows that enveloped Ye Bufan.

A combat skill? Ye Tianzhan had unleashed a combat skill right from the onset? The Ye family disciples watched in awe; they had never seen him resort to such tactics immediately, not even against their Qi Stage elders.

Ye Bufan's lips curled into a slight smirk as he faced the onslaught. Ye Tianzhan was fast, but he was faster still. His finger darted through the dense flurry of punches, aiming directly for Ye Tianzhan's chest.

Realizing he couldn't match Ye Bufan's preemptive strike, Ye Tianzhan had to abort his half-executed Rushing Thunder, its full might left unspent. He dodged to the right, his figure a blur.

With the upper hand, Ye Bufan was relentless. A graceful step forward, and he was upon his opponent. His assault—fists, fingers, elbows, legs—appeared chaotic, yet each move was a calculated thrust at Ye Tianzhan's critical points.

He became the sword! This was Ye Bufan's epiphany during his battle with Lin Feiyang. Swordless, his body became his blade; fists, fingers, elbows—all transformed into lethal swords.

Driven back, Lin Tianzhan's heart sank. He longed to deploy his combat skill but found himself breathlessly cornered by Ye Bufan's unyielding offense, reduced to a mere defender.

The air swirled with sand and wind as Ye Bufan, embodying the sword, unleashed the Wind Devil Sword Technique.

Assaulted by the relentless sword intent from every direction, Ye Tianzhan reached a grim resolve. Abandoning defense, he hurled a ferocious punch towards Ye Bufan's chest.

Ye Bufan seemed oblivious as the punch hurtled toward his chest, but at the last moment, his body twisted away at an impossible angle, dodging the blow!

Ye Tianzhan's punch hit nothing but air. "This is bad!" he thought, as a wave of intense pain swept through his body.

Below the stage, the spectators could no longer discern the fighters' swift movements, seeing only blurred silhouettes clashing and parting. When the dust settled, Ye Bufan was back at his original spot, appearing as though he hadn't lifted a finger.

Ye Tianzhan, on the other hand, lay crumpled on the ground. No blood was visible, but the bruises blossoming across his skin told the tale of the fight.

Had the crowd not known Ye Tianzhan's fervor for martial arts, they might have suspected a staged bout.

Only Ye Tiannan had caught a glimpse of the actual combat, and it filled his heart with a creeping dread.

The Ye family members gazing up from below now looked upon Ye Bufan with less scorn and more fervor. In a world that held martial prowess in the highest regard, today's duel had elevated Ye Bufan to the premier disciple of the Ye family's third generation, rightfully earning him their rapt attention.

Stepping out of the Martial Arts Hall, Ye Bufan encountered a buzz of activity at the gate. After inquiring with a servant, he learned that the Lin family had sent visitors.

With a start, he approached the gate, puzzled, only to find Ye Jian chatting amiably with Lin Shanfeng, the two seeming more like brothers than friends.

Lin Shanfeng's eyes brightened upon seeing Ye Bufan emerge. "Impressive, Nephew Ye! We've all underestimated you before," he exclaimed.

Ye Bufan modestly replied, "Just luck, pure luck."

After exchanging pleasantries, Lin Shanfeng instructed his servant to unload four hefty boxes from the carriage, saying, "Here are the ten million gold coins the Ye family head won in yesterday's wager. Please, have them accounted for."

Ye Jian demurred, "Master Lin, you're too kind. It was all in good fun—I never expected you to take the bet to heart!" Despite his words, he gestured, and the Ye family's servants surged forward to haul the four large boxes into the Ye family estate.

Delivery to our doorstep? A sense of unease welled up in Ye Bufan's heart. Seeing Lin Shanfeng's grin, Ye Bufan sensed that the Lin family's schemes against the Ye family were far from over. In fact, it seemed they were just getting started. Though he couldn't pinpoint their next move, Ye Bufan trusted his instincts.

Lin Shanfeng, having placed the gold coins down, tossed out a few insincere niceties before departing with his entourage.

Back at home, Ye Jian inquired, "What's your take on the Lin family's actions?"

"They're definitely plotting something," Ye Bufan responded without hesitation, his mind racing with the implications of the Lin family's maneuvers.

Ye Jian's eyes sparkled with approval. "Today, the Great Elder invited you to the ancestral temple. You shouldn't decline. You might be better suited than I am to lead the Ye family."

Ye Bufan quickly demurred, "Father, you must be joking!"

Ye Jian regarded his son earnestly. "Seeing the bigger picture is commendable, and encountering such a figure in the forest indicates you have an exceptional fate. Follow your instincts. I won't impose any demands on you."

As Ye Bufan was about to reply, a household guard reported, "Lord Yun has arrived at the Ye residence and is currently having tea in the main hall."

Ye Jian gestured his acknowledgement and, once the servant had left, suggested, "Let's go see him. You're implicated in this matter too."

With little choice, Ye Bufan accompanied his father to the main hall.

Yun Tianao was pacing the Ye family's main hall, visibly agitated. Upon noticing Ye Bufan and his father approach, he seemed on the verge of speaking but then held back.

Ye Jian observed Yun Tianao curiously. He had never witnessed such behavior from him before. But with the longstanding rivalry among the Ye, Yun, and Lin families, Ye Jian was not easily swayed by appearances. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked, "City Lord, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?"

Yun Tianao pulled a letter from his pocket and laid it before Ye Jian.

"What's Yun Tianao up to with this cryptic act? Can't he speak his mind directly? Why resort to a letter?" Puzzled, Ye Jian's gaze fell upon the envelope's signature, and his expression subtly shifted. Emblazoned in bold crimson letters were four words that commanded attention—East King Situ.