Chapter Twenty-Eight: Young Master, Chu Feng Is Unrivaled

Outside the manor, in the woods.

Yuan Yao paced anxiously back and forth.

The great fire at Chu Feng’s residence had already been extinguished—so why hadn’t his men returned?

“My lord, General Deng has been gone with his men for a long time, yet there’s still no word. Could something have gone wrong?” Yang Hong ventured, his brow furrowed.

“Impossible. The two to three hundred deathsworn under my command are all fearless. That rabble under Chu Feng wouldn’t have time to come to his aid, and even if they did, they’d only add to the pile of corpses.”

Yuan Yao flicked his sleeve with certainty.

“But after all this time, they should have returned!” Yang Hong’s voice was troubled.

He was even more concerned than Yuan Yao, for he knew Chu Feng better—this was a man of wisdom and depth, not one to be underestimated.

“They must have been delayed by something!” Yuan Yao snapped, growing irritated.

Yang Hong said no more.

As more time passed, scouts returned, reporting that the Chu family manor was now sealed off, and they could gather no information.

This news struck Yuan Yao like a bolt from the blue. His deathsworn—trained for years—had vanished without a trace? How could it be?

Yuan Yao’s mind teetered on the edge of madness. Had his plan truly failed? Where had the error crept in? Could Deng Li have betrayed him?

“My lord, Chu Feng’s spies will soon find this place. It’s not safe here—we should return to Shouchun and wait for news. Besides, no news isn’t necessarily bad news. Perhaps General Deng has already slain Chu Feng, and is now beset by his subordinates, unable to report back.”

Yang Hong hurriedly advised.

“Yes, that must be it!” Yuan Yao snatched at the explanation, mounted his horse, and led a dozen men into the night.

...

At dawn, in a side hall of the Yuan residence, Yuan Yao fidgeted restlessly.

He had given orders for his men to be allowed in should they return, but so much time had passed, and still there was no word.

Just then, a guard called out—

“My lord! General Deng has returned!”

At the sound, Yuan Yao exhaled a long breath, relief and joy flickering across his face. He had known there would be no mishap—how could a mere concubine’s son contend with him?

As he thought this, Deng Li staggered in.

Deng Li was in a wretched state, arrows piercing both his abdomen and shoulder, his black clothes stained red with blood. Had it not been for the concealment of night, he wouldn’t have made it back alive.

“Deng Li, what happened? Where are the others? Why have you returned alone?” Yuan Yao demanded, frowning, a sense of dread creeping in.

“They’re dead—all dead!” Deng Li’s response was frantic.

“All of them? How is that possible? Did someone leak our plans and set an ambush for you?” Yuan Yao stared in disbelief, his voice rising in anger.

“No, no, my lord. Chu Feng’s valor is unmatched in history. Alone, he slaughtered over a hundred of my men, fighting like a god of war, invincible. And his subordinates—no, they were demons,” Deng Li shuddered at the memory.

He still couldn’t fathom how such disciplined soldiers could exist. If not for the cover of night, he would have died a nameless death.

“What did you say?” Yuan Yao thundered. “Chu Feng alone killed a hundred men? And those so-called armored soldiers—what exactly happened?”

“My lord, my men fought without fear of death, yet before Chu Feng and his demon-like subordinates, we were as fragile as ants, slaughtered and toyed with.” Deng Li’s reply was trembling and fearful.

“Damn it! Didn’t you