Chapter Three: The Beginning of Conflict

Jiang Family’s Rear Courtyard, a Dense Grove

After deceiving Jiang Xian, Jiang Feng slipped away to the rear courtyard’s grove. This cluster of trees lay close to a branch of the Underworld Beast Mountains, though a wall encircled the area, enclosing an entire hill within the estate—a testament to the Jiang Family’s vastness.

“Shadow Dance Soul-Forging Steps, twenty-five forms. Memorize them thoroughly and apply them in practice, and one can break through any environment.”

In practice, this meant both the Soul Prison Illusion and the real world. Since the steps could not be used within the Soul Prison Illusion, he could only seek a solution in reality. Yet in his previous life, Jiang Feng had tried countless times, only to fail without a doubt.

Time passed slowly. Soon the sun hung high, but the grove remained shaded and cool.

“It’s still not working.” The first step was merely a stance; after assuming it, one proceeded through the remaining twenty-four forms. Each form, when combined with the first, yielded a unique effect.

“The second stance cannot connect with the first. If I try to transition, my foot leaves the ground, my balance falters, and I tumble. It’s simply unattainable—”

“Yes, the foot leaves the ground and I fall, but why must the foot leave the ground?”

A sudden revelation dawned on Jiang Feng. He tried again, connecting the first two forms.

“Left foot pivots, right foot poised like a golden rooster, at the turning of the stars and the bull, my heart finds its tail.”

Note: In this novel, one zhang equals ten feet, or one hundred inches.

Jiang Feng’s left foot traced an arc according to the book’s first stance, then crossed forward at an impossible angle, entering the second form. But this time, both feet remained in contact with the ground, sliding forward.

“I did it!” Joy flooded Jiang Feng, but the next instant his mouth hung open, unable to utter a sound.

The second form was meant to move forward, yet he found himself two steps to the right, as if shifted by some strange force.

On the ground, a peculiar pattern appeared. The only trace was the final sliding step; at the place where he now stood, there was a gap, no footprint connecting the two positions.

“Astonishing!”

After succeeding with the second step, Jiang Feng’s confidence in the technique grew. He immediately began to practice the third form.

Though he had gained insight, the steps demanded extreme precision; even the slightest misstep, despite keeping both feet on the ground, would send him sprawling, bruised and battered.

Failure did not dampen Jiang Feng’s spirits. Instead, it fueled his determination. He forgot lunch entirely until night fell.

“Whew, this is so difficult. My sliding step is almost perfect for the third form, but I still can’t succeed. It’s already so dark.” He touched his empty stomach. “I’ll eat first and practice again tomorrow.”

Jiang Feng emerged from the grove, heading toward the kitchen, only to notice the main hall ablaze with lights—an unusual sight.

The old patriarch, Jiang Yuehai, usually retired early unless something urgent had happened.

“Could something have occurred? Has that incident come early?” Jiang Feng pondered for a moment and walked over.

“Hmph! Is this how I usually instruct you? To act recklessly in the street—what disgrace!”

“If you’d won the fight, I might have let it slide. But look at you all—infuriating!”

Inside the hall, a voice of wrath echoed. Jiang Feng frowned; it sounded like another cousin had gotten into trouble and been beaten up. The furious voice belonged to his third uncle, Jiang Lei—a quick-tempered man who cared deeply about his reputation.

“They were all masters of the fourth level of Underworld Martial Arts. Only I matched them. Clearly three against one—how can you blame us!” came a defiant voice.

That was Jiang Lei’s second son, Jiang Shan, a fourth-level Underworld Martial Arts practitioner—upper-middle ranked in the family. Only a handful in Jiuyan Town could defeat such a fighter, Jiang Feng mused. Yet this didn’t quite match his memory.

“Jiang Yue, what happened? You’re not one to act impulsively.” As Jiang Feng neared the hall, he saw a middle-aged man in a blue robe, holding a fan, questioning with curiosity.

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“That’s Fourth Uncle.” Scholarly in appearance, weak in cultivation, yet the family’s strategist and manager of finances—Jiang Feng recognized him instantly. “Could cousin Jiang Yue have been beaten too? Damn—”

If Jiang Feng had any friends left in the Jiang Family, it was Jiang Yue.

Jiang Yue, only son of Jiang Qian, never cared about Jiang Feng’s illness and was the only one who believed Jiang Feng’s inability to cultivate was due to a strange nightmare.

“It happened like this. Ouch, it hurts,” Jiang Yue grumbled, clutching his mouth. “I was with cousin Jiang Shan, buying things at the market. We passed the Jiang Family’s pill house, heard a commotion, and went over. There, we found several boys from the Fang Family insulting Lanxin, even getting physical. They also hurled abuses at our Jiang Family. That’s our territory, and they dared to bully us so blatantly! So cousin Jiang Shan and I couldn’t stand it—we charged in.”

“Hmph, those Fang brats. But Lanxin, how did you provoke them?” a burly man stood up—Jiang Lei, who had spoken earlier.

“It’s all because of that waste, Jiang Feng!” Jiang Shan shouted before Lanxin could reply. “They said a fifteen-year-old who can’t cultivate is a sign the family is declining, and soon Jiang Family will have more wastes like him. Damn it! If not for him, we wouldn’t have been insulted. He’s ruined our reputation! Even if I could beat them, I’d be too ashamed to show my face again!”

Just stepping into the hall, Jiang Feng stopped abruptly, fists clenched. This was indeed the incident he remembered, though some details differed.

In his memory, after the impostor Han Li left, his cousins clashed with the rival Fang Family, triggered by their insults toward him and the Jiang Family.

When Jiang Lei learned his son had been beaten, he rushed to the Fang Family for revenge, only to fall victim to a plot and lose a year’s worth of family market profits. This eventually exposed his father’s misappropriation of family funds.

But back then, the old patriarch hadn’t been alerted.

“It’s not like that. It’s not the young master’s fault. I heard them mocking him outside the pill house and couldn’t hold back—I argued with them. It’s all my fault,” a kneeling maid, face flushed and eyes brimming with tears, spoke out.

“Actually, young master isn’t what you think. He’s not a waste...” She broke down, unable to suppress her anger.

Jiang Xian, on the verge of an outburst, raised his eyes and saw Jiang Feng, swallowing his words, “Feng’er, why are you here?”

“I just finished training, passing by,” Jiang Feng said calmly.

A hush fell; the entire hall was silent.

“You said training?” After a moment, Jiang Lei turned, staring at Jiang Feng in disbelief, then burst out laughing. “Did I hear right? Training? A worthless brat who can’t even focus—talking about training? Jiang Feng, what a joke. Are you lying to cover up your disgrace?”

“Father, I ask you now—expel Jiang Feng from the family! His existence is an unavoidable shame for us!”

“Jiang Lei, you’re courting death!”

Suddenly, the hall’s temperature soared. A fiery aura erupted from Jiang Xian, lifting the scrolls on the wall, singeing them as if about to ignite.

Jiang Xian was furious!

“Second Brother, don’t be so angry. He’s your son; surely you should be most ashamed! I only said what you should’ve said. If you’re offended, so be it.” Jiang Lei retreated a step, eyeing Jiang Xian warily.

Within the family, only father Jiang Yuehai and eldest brother Jiang Tao surpassed Jiang Lei in strength. Jiang Lei feared his second brother Jiang Xian most, for Jiang Xian possessed a Heaven’s Destiny Flame Body, with a high-grade first-tier white blaze inside, whereas Jiang Lei’s Underworld Power favored wood.

It was for this reason that the proud Jiang Lei had long resented his brother, their rivalry lasting decades, even extending to their sons—Jiang Lei’s child, Jiang Shan, also looked down on Jiang Feng.

Jiang Xian snorted, retracting his flames.

“He is my son. Even if he is a waste, he is still my son,” Jiang Xian’s voice was low; everyone bowed their heads in silent thought. “Besides, he’s not a waste. Not now, not ever! Didn’t you hear him mention training? Are you all deaf?”

The last words were nearly a shout.

Had his son not begged him to keep quiet, he would’ve announced Jiang Feng’s cure already.

Yet, as hope finally arrived, his family demanded this. How could he bear it? Still, Jiang Xian knew Jiang Feng’s pain exceeded his own.

“Xian’er, we understand your feelings. But, has Xiao Feng truly begun cultivation?” The old patriarch descended from the central seat, stroking his finger ring; even his casual question carried authority. This was Jiang Family’s head, Jiang Yuehai.

“Yes, father. Today, I invited your old friend, Underworld Physician Han Li. He found a solution! Give Feng’er time, and I believe he will overcome his nightmares and succeed!”

“Old Han? Hmph! Children lie for vanity, but you too? Han Li died half a month ago; I just received his funeral notice. How dare you deceive me!”

“Father, please don’t be angry. We speak truth; we would never—”

“The Underworld Physician you mentioned died half a month ago. I received the funeral invitation today. Yet you still insist!”

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Jiang Xian was stunned.

“Impossible!” He could not believe it. After all, someone finally claimed to cure his son’s illness, only for him to be told it was an impostor.

“I heard from the servants today—a man resembling Han Li appeared in the estate. All Underworld Physicians dress alike, it seems you were deceived.”

“But—” Jiang Xian wanted to argue that the man hadn’t taken any reward, yet had cured Jiang Feng. Jiang Yuehai cut him off, waving his hand, “Whether he was real or not, if Feng’er claims he can cultivate, I’ll give him one more chance. If he fails to reach the first stage of Underworld Martial Arts by the family’s final test in a month, he will be sent to the countryside. If he passes, even if he ranks last, I’ll find him a position within the family.”

At these words, the others exchanged odd looks, as though they’d long wished for this outcome.

“To think a fake Underworld Physician’s trickery could enable cultivation—ridiculous. This time, the waste will surely be expelled,” Jiang Lei scoffed inwardly.

“If that man wasn’t Han Li, then who was he? How did he know I sent Han Li an invitation a month ago? If so, then the martial art he gave to Feng’er—” Jiang Xian’s worries deepened.

Jiang Feng was shocked too. He remembered being expelled from the family under such circumstances. This time, he’d escaped punishment—perhaps his father had returned the money in time, and the moment hadn’t come yet.

Jiang Yuehai ignored everyone’s reactions, walked to Jiang Shan, and snorted coldly, “This fight was provoked by outsiders, not your fault. Go to the accounts office and claim five gold coins each for medicine. But, you lost. Double your daily training for a month.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

“Everyone disperse.”

Yawning, Jiang Yuehai turned to leave, glancing at the martial art in Jiang Feng’s hand as he passed, paying it no mind.

“Let’s go.” Jiang Lei grabbed Jiang Shan, and as they passed Jiang Feng, he snorted, “Waste is waste. I don’t believe a coward plagued by nightmares for fifteen years can cultivate. You got lucky this time, but let’s see how you fare at the family’s final test. Shame like you must be cast out.”

Jiang Feng turned, his dark-ringed eyes coldly fixed on the pair.

“You!” Jiang Lei’s heart skipped. How could this reclusive waste have such a chilling gaze? Though unsettled, he dismissed it, snorted, and left.

“Brother Xian, you know Jiang Lei’s temper. Don’t take it personally. We’ve always believed in you, and in Feng’er too. The final test is in two months—if you haven’t reached the first stage, you’ll be sent to a remote village, to manage other businesses. I hope to see a miracle,” Jiang Tao nodded, and the group departed.

“Feng’er, you haven’t eaten all day. However hard you train, you mustn’t neglect yourself! Come, let’s go to the kitchen,” Jiang Xian frowned, not letting Jiang Feng speak, as if nothing had happened earlier.

“Wait.” Jiang Feng smiled. “I’m fine.”

He walked over to Lanxin, still kneeling, and helped her up.

“Master…” Lanxin wiped her tears, sobbing, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have acted impulsively. It’s—”

“It’s not your fault.” Jiang Feng waved her off, speaking gently, “Tell me, who hit you?”

“No, you mustn’t. You can’t beat them, master.” Lanxin was anxious; she couldn’t say. Even Jiang Shan, a fourth-level Underworld Martial Arts practitioner, couldn’t defeat them. If her master got angry and went, he would surely be beaten.

“Tell me who?”

“Ah…” Lanxin stepped back, startled by Jiang Feng’s gaze—it was like a dagger glinting in the night. She had never seen him look this way.

“It was Fang Lin and Fang Hai, and one of their servants,” she whispered.

“I see. Rest and recover, don’t bring me meals these days,” Jiang Feng said, not allowing her to protest, then turned and left.

Jiang Xian watched, brows furrowed. You want to avenge her, but you haven’t reached the first stage. What will you do? Was that impostor Han Li truly able to cure you?

“Father, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Let’s go.”

But, I believe in you, Jiang Xian thought silently.