Chapter Eight: Broken Promises

Feng Qichuan nodded, asking uncertainly, “The other side gave me a deadline of two months to deliver the goods to Suzhou. The time we have is rather tight.”

Normally, countless people spend their entire lives without ever stepping into the Postnatal Realm.

It’s easy to imagine how astounding it would be to achieve that in just two months.

Yi An replied, “It’s enough. As long as you’re not dull-witted, a month will suffice.”

The Dragon Blood Divine Art was a fast-track cultivation method, capable of unlocking the body’s potential to the greatest extent.

If practiced step by step, its effects on the body were not too severe.

But if one rushed impatiently, it would inevitably damage oneself.

Yi An and Feng Qichuan tidied up the scene, burying the gangsters, escorts, and his wet nurse separately before finally departing.

…

Two days later, Feng Qichuan successfully reached the entry level of the Dragon Blood Divine Art.

He felt neither pride nor complacency, instead becoming even more diligent. In the days that followed, his life consisted solely of eating, drinking, and cultivation—almost sleepless, never resting.

He had to keep growing stronger, breaking through his limits, seizing control of his fate.

Thinking of his wife and child suffering, he sighed deeply.

But now, with the aid of the Dragon Blood Divine Art, he firmly believed he would soon be able to avenge himself and rescue his family.

The blood debt of the escorts and gangsters should also be counted against the enemy.

Ten days later, Feng Qichuan ascended to the first-class level.

This time, he was deeply moved—not by his own breakthrough, but by the confirmation that Yi An had not deceived him. This secret technique truly could lead him into the Postnatal Martial Realm.

Yi An smiled faintly at Feng Qichuan, pleased that his trust had not been misplaced.

Whether in temperament or talent, the man was remarkable.

Yi An had not been idle himself, gathering the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, absorbing the essence of sun and moon; in ten days, he had opened four meridian points. He rather enjoyed these focused, undistracted days of pure cultivation.

A month passed in the blink of an eye.

Days earlier, Feng Qichuan had already entered the Postnatal Realm and stabilized his cultivation.

The only flaw was his lack of foundation.

Compared to those who advanced step by step, Feng Qichuan lacked experience in facing enemies.

Moreover, his martial skills were still insufficient.

But he could wait no longer; his wife and child needed rescue.

He quickly sought out Yi An, unable to contain his eagerness. “Sir, my Postnatal Realm cultivation is now fully consolidated. There is no time to lose—let’s return to Yinchuan at once!”

After a few days apart, Feng Qichuan felt that Yi An’s aura had grown even more extraordinary.

And after their time together, he sensed more than ever how unfathomable Yi An was.

“Don’t rush. The Moruo Sect is far more complicated than it appears. I suspect their spies are everywhere in Yinchuan. We must disguise ourselves and avoid alerting them,” Yi An said, patting his shoulder.

“Sir, your foresight is admirable.”

There was still a month left before the appointed time.

If they returned early, it would surely arouse suspicion.

But if they appeared without a sound, they could catch the enemy off guard.

…

On the road, Feng Qichuan was eager to return, his heart filled with both worry and the joy of impending reunion.

He knew opportunity came only once; failure was unacceptable.

They moved under cover of night, easily evading the patrols.

Though perhaps unnecessarily cautious, it was better to be safe.

Who knew whether the authorities had been infiltrated by the Moruo Sect?

Upon reaching home, they first observed from outside. Seeing no movement within, they slipped in quietly.

But the next moment, Feng Qichuan’s expression changed.

He smelled a faint trace of blood in the air—a scent he knew all too well from his years wandering the martial world.

Feng Qichuan was instantly thrown into confusion, kicking open the door and rushing inside, heedless of whether he was exposed.

Indeed, those who threatened Feng Qichuan had broken their promise.

Or rather, they had always intended to use him, then silence him.

His wife and child had been killed with a single stroke. Judging by the state of their bodies, it happened soon after Feng Qichuan left.

He stood there, dazed and soulless, as if the entire world had lost its light in his eyes.

Yi An did not disturb him; what Feng Qichuan needed now was not comfort, but silence.

The blow was too great to bear.

Thus, Feng Qichuan stood the whole night, unmoving and wordless.

The next day, he did only two things: first, he sent silver to the families of the fallen gangsters and escorts.

Then, he arranged a funeral for his wife and child.

Yi An approached him and asked, “Have you decided what to do next?”

“Kill! I want the entire Moruo Sect to pay in blood, to taste the agony of losing their loved ones!” Feng Qichuan’s face was grim, his voice icy and chilling, sending a cold shiver even from afar.

“Calm yourself. I know you’re grieving, but the Moruo Sect is deeply entrenched. Even this branch is not to be underestimated. If you rush in recklessly, you’ll lose your life—and who will avenge your family then?” Yi An sighed, seeing Feng Qichuan slipping into extremity.

Vengeance was not wrong, but blinded by hatred, one easily made unwise decisions.

If this continued, he would either become a killing machine, or perish without a trace.

Feng Qichuan clenched his teeth so hard his gums bled. After a long silence, he raised bloodshot eyes and said, “You’re right. Until I avenge them, I cannot die. I must uproot them all and tear them apart!”

Just then, he noticed a faint sound from the rooftop.

Had his strength not grown recently, he would never have sensed it.

Feng Qichuan gripped his blade, fixing his gaze on the spot where the noise had come from, waiting for the intruder to appear.

Realizing he’d been discovered, the person on the roof revealed himself, looking down at Feng Qichuan with mocking disdain.

“It’s been a month. Your skills haven’t improved much, but your bravado has grown. Are you relying on his strength?”

“You!?” Feng Qichuan’s veins bulged, his fists clenched until they crackled.

“Yes, it’s us. Seems we were right to kill your family. You really didn’t do as we ordered. Tell us now—where did you deliver the cargo?” one of them demanded, his face filled with sinister malice.

The round trip from here to Suzhou would take at least two months at the fastest.

So, it was almost certain the mission had gone awry.