Chapter Thirty: The Yuan Residence Bathed in Blood, Bowing to Beg for Surrender

Midday.

It was a hot, dry June day. The townsfolk often chose to nap at noon, before venturing out in the afternoon to weed the fields, but the weather had been rainless for some time now.

Beneath the awning of a teahouse, Chu Feng and Lu Su sat sipping tea. At that moment, Zhao Fan approached, lowering his voice, “Master, I’ve gathered all the information. There’s no lockdown outside the Yuan residence. Ji Ling and the others are currently searching outside the city.”

Chu Feng raised the clay bowl and took a sip. “Yuan Yao is back at the mansion?”

“He returned as soon as he arrived in Shouchun and hasn’t left since,” Zhao Fan replied.

“Are our weapons ready?” Chu Feng asked.

“Most have been brought in. The Yuan army’s discipline is lax, so entering the city wasn’t hard. With a few tricks, we slipped right through,” Zhao Fan explained.

If they were infiltrating another city, it might have been difficult, but Shouchun was their hometown. With no wartime lockdown, entering was no challenge.

After finishing his cold tea, Chu Feng rose to leave.

Today, he intended to strike fear into Yuan Yao, to make the world remember the name Chu Feng.

...

A short while later, outside the Yuan residence.

The entire perimeter was now surrounded. Chu Feng led several dozen men forward, and the gatekeepers frowned, sensing trouble from this group.

“Stop! The Yuan residence is not for the likes of—”

Before he could finish, Chu Feng’s armored men shot him with crossbows.

“All who resist will be killed!” Chu Feng lifted his hand, his voice icy.

The main gate was forced open. The guards had no time to prepare and were slaughtered to the last.

Blood flowed like a river.

Each squad covered the other, their repeating crossbows and armor making them invincible in the alleyways.

—

In the rear courtyard, inside a side chamber.

Yuan Yao reclined on a rocking chair. A maid fanned him from behind, while several others attended him: one fed him grapes—an ancient name for the fruit—while the rest massaged his legs and feet. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Pah!” Yuan Yao glared.

“You dare give me such sour grapes?”

“Forgive me, master, forgive me!” the maid pleaded.

“Hmph! Someone, take her away and give her ten lashes. Let’s see if she learns next time,” Yuan Yao commanded, his mood foul that day.

Just then, the old steward rushed in, shouting, “Young master, something terrible has happened! A group has stormed the mansion, killing everyone they see!”

“Heh, someone dares to invade the Yuan residence? They’re bold indeed. Where’s Commander Wang? Have him lead the guards to suppress the rebels, find out who they are, and execute their families,” Yuan Yao sneered, dismissing the disturbance.

“Master, Commander Wang was already cleaved in two. These men came prepared. Our guards are like children before them—utterly powerless. You must flee at once!” The steward was in tears as he urged him.

“What? Commander Wang is dead?” Yuan Yao’s composure shattered, and he gulped. He could guess who had come.

“Hurry, take me out the back door!”

A few guards flanked him, but they hadn’t gone far when two squads of armored men appeared, crossbows trained, with the bodies of slaughtered guards lying nearby.

As they turned to flee, another group surrounded them.

In less time than it takes to burn an incense stick, the Yuan residence had fallen.

Yuan Yao’s downfall was due to not being heir apparent, living outside the palace, and his guards dying too swiftly to protect him.

His face turned ashen, panic written across his features.

He hadn’t imagined his own elder brother would be so ruthless.

Chu Feng walked toward him, bloodied sword in hand, eyeing the richly clad, terror-stricken Yuan Yao with a cold snort.

“Chu Feng, if you dare kill me, father will never forgive you!” Yuan Yao trembled, swallowing hard.

Chu Feng sneered.

He pressed the blade to Yuan Yao’s throat.

With a thud, Yuan Yao dropped to his knees, shaking, begging, “Brother, big brother, don’t kill me! Spare me! I swear I’ll never cross you again!”

Chu Feng: “???”

This man was truly odd—calling him brother, promising future obedience? After this job, he planned to vanish.

“Rest assured, I won’t kill you. Whether your father saves you depends on your own fate,” Chu Feng snorted. He had no intention of taking Yuan Yao’s life.

Yuan Yao breathed a sigh of relief, thinking Chu Feng feared Yuan Shu’s wrath.

“But first, send someone to gather all your valuables,” Chu Feng said, pressing the blade closer, nearly cutting the skin.

“Valuables?” Yuan Yao hesitated, confused.

“Do as you’re told. No more nonsense,” Chu Feng snapped.

“Yes, yes!” With a knife at his throat, Yuan Yao was terrified.

Soon, the mansion’s granaries were found to be overflowing, with more than a hundred thousand bushels of grain, and assets in jewelry, gold, silver, and copper coins worth billions—a true fortune, befitting a great house.

“Impressive,” Chu Feng muttered, marveling at the wealth, far surpassing his own modest holdings. He had to find a way to take it all, to make up for his losses.

“Bind him and keep watch! The rest of you, start preparing food—we won’t be leaving for a while!” Chu Feng ordered, and promptly slaughtered the pigs and sheep from the kitchen.

...

Afternoon, outside the Yuan residence.

Yuan troops crowded the area, led by Ji Ling, who was deeply worried. He hadn’t expected the raiders to exploit the opening and abduct Yuan Yao.

What irked him more was that the news of the mansion’s sacking had been spread by the raiders themselves, who brazenly demanded Ji Ling notify Yuan Shu, to exchange the father for the son’s life.

Ji Ling was utterly bewildered.

At that moment, Qiao Rui strode over in armor, having heard of Chu Feng’s success and pressured by his daughter’s threats, he came to assess the situation.

“General Qiao, you’re finally here! The assassins have taken Young Master Yuan hostage and insist I notify the lord. What are we to do?” Ji Ling asked anxiously.

“General Ji, this is the lord’s family affair. We’d best not interfere. I’ve already sent a fast rider to inform the lord. He’ll decide when he returns!” Qiao Rui waved dismissively.

“???”

“Family affair? What do you mean?” Ji Ling was baffled.

“Ji Ling, you’re truly hopeless. The Chu Feng you’ve been chasing is the lord’s illegitimate son. This is a feud between legitimate and illegitimate heirs. As subordinates, we’d best stay out of it!” Qiao Rui rolled his eyes.

“What? Illegitimate son?” Ji Ling was shocked. “Now that you mention it, I really shouldn’t meddle. Feuds between legitimate and illegitimate heirs are taboo, and with the situation unclear, I might end up ruining myself.”

He sighed, knowing many generals had fallen in such disputes. “I’ll withdraw my men and wait for the lord to return and decide.”

“Better not withdraw. I fear if we thin out, my son-in-law might pull another stunt. The lord has only been north for a day and a half, traveling a few dozen miles—he’ll likely return by dusk,” Qiao Rui thought aloud, waving his hand.

“What? He’s your son-in-law?” Ji Ling felt more confused than he had all year. What sort of mess was this—like a flood sweeping through the Dragon King’s temple?

No, this was a brawl between two dragon sons!

His head spun. Best wait for Yuan Shu to return.