Chapter Twenty: Deep Bonds of Brotherhood

Jiang Feng made his way to the rear courtyard, where he saw servants bustling in and out, the scene alive with activity. Yet, his elder brother Jiang Wen was nowhere to be found. After inquiring with the head maid, he learned that Jiang Wen had gone to the back garden, leaving instructions to be notified only once the preparations were complete.

Without delay, Jiang Feng strode toward the back garden.

It was the season when all kinds of flowers bloomed and life flourished. The garden was a riot of color and vitality. Butterflies flitted among the blossoms, dancing ceaselessly, while bees labored industriously. Amid the flowers, a lithe figure moved with the grace of a butterfly, swirling and weaving without disturbing a single petal.

That person was Jiang Wen.

Jiang Feng approached silently, standing still to watch. Jiang Wen’s movements were light and skillful, his steps intricate, matching the prowess of Jiang Feng’s own Shadow Dance Soul-Step. It was as if he were skimming across water—agile, yet precise.

“My brother remains as formidable as ever! It seems there is always someone stronger in this world, always another peak to scale,” Jiang Feng silently rejoiced for his brother, his heart filled with admiration and a touch of melancholy.

Yet a spark of competitiveness arose within him, tempting him to compare his Shadow Dance Soul-Step with Jiang Wen’s extraordinary footwork, eager to see whose was superior. He thought, if he could break through the fifth form, he would surely have an edge over his brother. This resolve strengthened his determination to train even harder.

Perhaps sensing someone’s arrival, Jiang Wen stopped and turned.

“Little brother, what brings you here? Forgive me—I hurried back and brought nothing for you. Haha,” Jiang Wen said, scratching his head, perhaps a bit embarrassed.

“It’s no matter, brother. Your return is more than enough!” At that moment, Jiang Feng’s eyes grew moist. The bond between the brothers was unquestionable. If Jiang Qian had been Jiang Feng’s companion through lonely childhood years, Jiang Wen had been the one to illuminate his path, guiding him toward his own way. Jiang Feng’s lifelong quest to perfect his own Dao was inspired by his elder brother. In Jiang Feng’s life, Jiang Wen was both brother and mentor. To be reborn and feel that familiar affection once more, Jiang Feng could not help but be moved.

“Why are you crying, brother? I’m back, aren’t I?” Jiang Wen gently ruffled Jiang Feng’s hair in a doting manner. “Besides, you’re grown now—almost ready to start your own family and career! Be careful, or your future sister-in-law might see you and laugh at your lack of composure.”

“Not at all—it’s just the wind blew some dust into my eyes,” Jiang Feng quickly wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, protesting.

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Come, let me check your progress. You haven’t been slacking, have you?” Jiang Wen, having finished laughing, looked at Jiang Feng with a serious expression.

Jiang Feng nodded, wasting no words, and began.

He gathered his hands at his abdomen, sprang upward with a burst of energy, then launched himself forward, his fists striking out. He proceeded to execute a complete set of boxing forms with practiced ease, the power and vigor evident in each movement.

This was the routine Jiang Feng practiced every morning. He had been told by his brother that he’d found it at the ruins of a senior cultivator, and that even ordinary people who practiced it properly could prolong their lives. Jiang Wen, knowing Jiang Feng couldn’t cultivate, had brought it specifically for him to practice.

Jiang Wen watched from the side, his brother’s proficiency bringing a satisfied smile to his face. Yet, the more skillfully Jiang Feng performed, the more Jiang Wen sensed something amiss. But what was it?

After careful observation, he noticed that as Jiang Feng practiced, the transitions between moves carried a faint trace of Underworld Force.

So that was it!

Jiang Wen kept silent, merely waiting for Jiang Feng to finish, watching him with a knowing smile as if waiting for an explanation.

Feeling uneasy under his brother’s gaze, Jiang Feng surrendered: “Alright, I admit it—I shouldn’t have hidden that I can now cultivate!”

“Very well, since you’re so honest, you’re forgiven!” Jiang Wen replied with candor. The brothers seemed to share a deep understanding.

“Come on, it’s time to eat. The rooms should be nearly ready too. Let’s go—food first.” Jiang Feng took Jiang Wen’s hand and headed to the dining hall.

When they arrived, everyone was already eating. Their father and the Master Wucheng were drinking heartily. After paying their respects, the brothers joined in, and Jiang Feng ate until he was stuffed.

Returning to his room, Jiang Feng felt tipsy and made no effort to train further. He simply collapsed into bed.

...

When he woke the next morning, his head was still foggy—clearly, the aftereffects of the wine were strong!

At that moment, Jiang Feng made a grand and wise resolution in his heart: “From now on, I’ll never willingly get close to that stuff called wine again.”

After tidying himself up, he went to the kitchen for a quick bite, then began his morning training as usual. He ran through the entire set of boxing forms his brother had taught him, feeling ever more comfortable with them. His Underworld Force was slowly, almost imperceptibly, increasing.

He’d only recently noticed this, and since he wasn’t certain of the cause, he hadn’t paid much attention.

Next, he practiced his peerless movement technique, the Shadow Dance Soul-Step. As he moved, he tried to incorporate elements of his brother’s footwork, attempting a fusion, but unfortunately—perhaps due to insufficient strength—it was not yet possible.

Suddenly, he heard a series of claps, “pa pa pa pa.” Looking up, Jiang Feng saw the master approaching from afar, applauding as he came.

“A dignified Underworld cultivator, yet you rely so much on evasion techniques, knowing nothing of attack spells. Your combat ability is pitiful—barely able to truss a chicken.” The Master Wucheng began to speak sharply.

“I’ve heard your cultivation progresses quickly, but it seems you’ve simply stumbled upon some lucky chance and forced your way ahead. Your foundation is shaky, and your movement technique is unimpressive. If you have the guts, try chasing after me. I’ll give you a head start—and you can only act within this circle. If you catch me, you can name your terms. Well? Will you accept?” Master Wucheng’s tone was lazy and disdainful, as he traced a circle two yards across with his toe.

At that moment, Jiang Feng couldn’t fathom how he had offended this mysterious master, but the real dilemma was whether to accept the challenge.

Although Jiang Feng had confidence in his movement skills, his overall strength lagged far behind the master’s. The conditions seemed favorable to him, though. Should he accept, or not?

And what was the master’s real purpose in treating him this way? Jiang Feng’s head spun with confusion.

After much deliberation, Jiang Feng decided to accept. Why not? The master hadn’t named any requirements, and there was nothing to lose.

Jiang Feng made a few preparations, entered the circle, and rolled up his sleeves, ready for a serious contest.