chapter 33

"Brother, hurry and fetch Sister-in-law!"

Zhan Yunwei soon understood why Wen Ju was so well-liked.

Wen Ju, despite his high status in Yongning County, spoke with remarkable humility and courtesy. When he met her and Yue Zhiheng, he did not look down on their misfortune. Instead, he promised to cherish the lotus lantern they brought.

However, Zhan Yunwei noticed that his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than expected.

Wen Ju said to Yue Zhiheng, "I heard from the steward that your wife is expecting, yet you lack a stable place to stay. If you don't mind, I have a guest room available at my residence. You are welcome to stay there for a few days until you find a new home, so that your wife isn't troubled by the hardships of travel."

Yue Zhiheng hesitated and declined politely at first. But Wen Ju's enthusiasm eventually led him to "reluctantly" agree.

From a distance, Zhan Yunwei noticed many formation cultivators setting up arrays at the Wen residence. Even at the entrance, there was a spirit stone to measure cultivation levels.

Seeing Yue Zhiheng glance at the spirit stone, Wen Ju explained, "Yongning County is not very peaceful. For the safety of the household, these measures are necessary. I hope you understand."

Zhan Yunwei thought to herself, Clearly, this is to guard against people like Yue Zhiheng entering the residence.

She could pass without issue, but she wasn't sure how Yue Zhiheng would manage. When she noticed that Yue Zhiheng's expression remained calm, she knew he had a plan.

Sure enough, when Yue Zhiheng walked past the spirit stone, its glow wasn't particularly bright.

In the end, the stone revealed a five-tiered spiritual vein.

Wen Ju couldn't help but glance at Yue Zhiheng. "Your natural talent is impressive."

In the spiritual realm, it was common to find cultivators with one or two tiers. Those with three tiers could hold minor official positions, and four-tiered cultivators were often prioritized for family development. Even Wen Ju himself only had six tiers.

Zhan Yunwei thought, If you knew this man was actually at the ninth tier, you probably wouldn't even know how to compliment him.

As a spirit master, Zhan Yunwei wasn't required to go through the spirit stone test.

Wen Ju personally showed them to their rooms before attending to other matters.

After the door closed, Zhan Yunwei asked, "Lord Yue, how did you manage that?"

By all accounts, the spirit stone shouldn't have been fooled.

Yue Zhiheng opened his hand, and a wisp of ice-blue spiritual energy emerged, gradually forming into the shape of a soul artifact.

The artifact spirit seemed delighted to see Zhan Yunwei, someone familiar, and tried to greet her before Yue Zhiheng held it back.

"So, that's what the stone detected?"

"Yes."

Zhan Yunwei thought, Lord Yue really is full of surprises.

Only the top cultivators could forge their own soul spirits. She had once seen Pei Yujing's sword spirit, a sharp, azure blade with a distinct consciousness. It appeared far more mature than Yue Zhiheng's artifact spirit.

Yue Zhiheng's artifact spirit seemed naive and had only recently come into being, but its potential was staggering. It already possessed five-tiered spiritual veins. Unlike a cultivator's inborn talents, artifact spirits could be nurtured with treasures, move at their master's command, and even fight in battle.

Soul spirits could advance by two tiers.

This meant that the ice-blue artifact spirit could eventually reach the equivalent of a seventh-tier cultivator.

A seventh-tier spirit was comparable to Zhan Shujing.

Zhan Yunwei mused that if Zhan Shujing knew, he'd probably explode in frustration. Comparisons were truly infuriating. Even her own mood was unstable now. She glanced at Yue Zhiheng, suspecting he was doing this deliberately to warn her that escaping wouldn't be easy and to make her behave.

"Miss Zhan understands my point well."

He removed the confinement bracelet from her wrist. "The Wen residence isn't safe. Something might happen tonight. I'll leave this artifact spirit with you. If anything occurs, it will protect you."

Zhan Yunwei hadn't expected him to remove the bracelet. "Aren't you worried I'll run away?"

Yue Zhiheng gave her a cool glance. "If you leave, the people in the imperial prison lose their value alive."

Zhan Yunwei heard the veiled threat in his words. Unfortunately, she couldn't ignore the lives of her clan members and Bai Rui.

She muttered, "Don't worry, Lord Yue. I won't run. The white jade butterfly is still with you, after all."

Running would only mean death.

Yue Zhiheng fell silent, saying nothing.

Zhan Yunwei realized her comment was inappropriate, almost as if reminding Lord Yue of something. She paused, shifted her gaze, and poked at the ice-blue artifact spirit. "Lord Yue, does it have a name?"

"Not yet."

"Then what should I call it?"

"Up to you."

The artifact spirit transformed into a translucent jade bracelet, wrapping itself around her wrist.

As Yue Zhiheng had predicted, something indeed happened that night.

When darkness fully fell, Wen Ju sent someone to invite them to a banquet, saying they were hosting guests.

It wasn't uncommon for aristocrats to keep retainers and hold feasts.

Even the city lord of Wencheng attended tonight's event.

Before Yue Zhiheng left alone for the banquet, he told Zhan Yunwei, "Miss Zhan, if anything happens, prioritize your safety. I'll come for you as soon as possible."

Zhan Yunwei nodded.

At the Wen residence, the banquet was lively.

Dancers performed by a wine pool, exuding luxury. The aristocracy was known for extravagance, and the Wen family was among the most prominent.

Golden cups served as goblets, and jade chopsticks as utensils.

Yue Zhiheng's gaze swept the room, noticing that the retainers' cultivation levels varied greatly. The better ones were at four or five tiers, while the weaker ones were at one or two. Yet, the Wen family accepted them all.

It almost reinforced their reputation for kindness and appreciation of talent.

The dancers, draped in thin veils, spun gracefully, their expressions dazzling. Some retainers from humble backgrounds blushed and, under the guise of drinking, stole shy glances.

Wen Ju smiled faintly and gave a signal. The dancers, having finished a routine, stepped forward to pour wine, while obedient and charming young servants emerged from behind screens to attend to the female cultivators' meals.

Such banquets were typical of the empire.

The dancers and young attendants in the manor were mostly meant to entertain the guests, radiating charm and grace.

At first, some guests fancied themselves as righteous gentlemen who could resist temptation, but they soon realized that others around them treated the situation as normal and gradually let their guard down. Most of these retainers were unmarried and carefree, and even the few who were married hesitated only briefly before giving in.

These dancers and attendants had developed their own survival skills, often choosing the gentlest and most attractive guests to accompany.

In a quiet corner, Yue Zhiheng sat inconspicuously.

A dancer in green approached him. At first, she thought the young man looked plain, but as she drew closer, her eyes lit up with surprise. This young lord had a stunning pair of eyes—slender and sharp, with a cold and distant gleam that sent a shiver through her.

Disguise pills could change one's facial appearance but not their physique.

Having encountered many people, the dancer immediately discerned that beneath this white-robed man's attire lay a youthful and powerful frame.

The city lord of Wen had yet to appear, and some guests, unable to resist the allure, left with beauties in their arms.

The green-clad dancer's eyes sparkled with charm, yet the man before her remained unmoved, offering no assistance as she knelt slightly by his side. She smiled and, while lowering her gaze, accidentally spilled wine onto Yue Zhiheng's robes.

She gasped softly and quickly apologized, bending down as if to wipe away the spill.

Such antics were not uncommon at feasts like this. Beneath the tables, away from prying eyes, guests indulged themselves freely. The atmosphere reeked of decadence—a reflection of the indulgence within aristocratic households, something Yue Zhiheng had seen countless times before.

As the dancer lowered her head further, just as she was about to observe something she shouldn't, a golden chopstick pressed against her jaw.

The utensil sank slightly into her skin, cold and sharp enough to make her shiver.

She trembled and glanced upward, only to meet a pair of smiling eyes that were cold and indifferent. "No need."

Wen Ju had been drinking all along and, noticing the scene, casually said, "That's enough. You may leave."

The dancer, as if pardoned, quickly retreated.

Wen Ju smiled and said, "Brother Li, don't take offense. If such things aren't to your liking, we can simply enjoy our drinks together."

Throughout the banquet, he had not summoned any beauties to his side, as though confirming the rumors of his purity and self-restraint.

It was no wonder that the Yongning Prefecture spoke so highly of him. A feast like this accommodated both the indulgent and those who preferred restraint.

As the guests gradually left with their chosen companions, only three or four people remained. Wen Ju glanced at them.

"Gentlemen, it seems I'll have to trouble you to stay a bit longer."

Noticing the subtle shift in his tone, the remaining guests looked surprised. "Master Wen, what do you mean by this?"

Wen Ju maintained his genial demeanor and addressed the rear of the hall, "Father, I'll leave the cleanup of these tougher bones to you."

As the walls gradually turned transparent, someone stepped into the hall.

Who else could it be but the long-absent city lord of Wen?

By this time, the scent of incense had thickened in the air, the array on the floor had begun to glow, and the formidable presence of a nine-veined city lord stood behind them. Even if they realized the trap, it was too late.

The music grew louder, masking the sounds of the ensuing chaos.

Yue Zhiheng put up a token resistance before succumbing to the array's effects.

Wen Ju, seeing how easily these spiritual practitioners fell, looked disdainful. None of them matched the vigor of that meddlesome young man caught yesterday.

Today's batch didn't even have any particularly good-looking ones.

He said, "Father, why don't you grant me that boy from yesterday?"

The city lord frowned and said coldly, "Rein yourself in. Isn't the backyard full enough? The Wen family cannot afford to let its lineage wane. Soon, I will request a proper marriage arrangement for you from the Crown Prince. Before the new bride enters the household, you had best clean out those frivolous playthings!"

Wen Ju outwardly agreed but felt unrestrained inwardly.

How many years had it been since Wen Xun died? Within the Wen family, he was no longer a threat. In the Spirit Realm, where offspring were scarce, no matter what he did, his father would clean up after him.

He asked, "Father, with so many retainers caught today, when will I finally gain eight or nine spiritual veins myself?"

The city lord glared at him coldly. "Watch your tongue!"

Feeling irritable, Wen Ju glanced at the captured retainers on the ground. None of these useless individuals had exceptional talents. If even one of them had matched his short-lived elder brother's aptitude, he wouldn't have to go to such lengths.

Meanwhile, Zhan Yunwei's spiritual energy, as gentle as spring rain, infiltrated every corner of the Wen household.

Unlike the domineering energy of spiritual cultivators, her spiritual energy, as an Elementalist, was subtle and natural, difficult for even the most gifted spiritual practitioners to detect.

Though she avoided the front hall to prevent detection by the city lord or Yue Zhiheng, the feedback from her energy revealed the debauchery unfolding there, prompting her energy to recoil with disdain before returning to her.

Carefully navigating around the main hall, Zhan Yunwei continued to explore the manor's layout. She found the storeroom, which was piled high with spiritual stones.

Before she could probe further, a trace of her energy seemed to be caught. Someone, as if summoning all their strength, grasped onto a strand of her energy.

Startled, she initially thought she'd been discovered, but upon closer inspection, she realized this wasn't the case. Someone was truly calling for help, transmitting their sorrowful emotions through her energy.

Zhan Yunwei was astonished.

Whoever this was not only recognized her Elementalist energy but also conveyed such profound emotions—this had to be someone with exceptional talent or someone who had encountered her energy before.

Who could it be? Could there really be an old acquaintance in the Wen manor?

At that moment, footsteps came from outside the door.

It was Wen Ju's voice. He asked, "Has sister-in-law gone to bed?"

Zhan Yunwei frowned and opened her eyes but did not respond.

Wen Ju didn't even wait for an answer and pushed the door open. "Asleep or not, it doesn't matter. Your husband is still waiting for me to bring you to reunite with him."

He had no regard for Spiritual Masters and, after dealing with the Spiritual Practitioners in the manor, didn't bother pretending in front of Zhan Yunwei.

He activated a spirit talisman to immobilize her and prepared to take her away.

Seeing his overconfidence, Zhan Yunwei judged she wasn't in immediate danger and didn't act rashly. The bracelet, now her artifact spirit, sensed her intention, flickered briefly, and then went quiet.

Yue Wujie lay sprawled on the ground, stripped of every shred of dignity and clothing.

The sound of crashing waves surrounded him. In the silent night, wind chimes inexplicably rang, prompting him to curse out loud.

Here it was again—two hours of torture, like clockwork.

Before long, someone hoisted him up, his clavicles pinned and locked, and tossed him into a steaming pool nearby.

The pool, cloaked in ethereal mist, appeared serene but was as corrosive as acid. His agonized screams echoed.

Other imprisoned Spiritual Masters emerged, their expressions numb, routinely pouring their spiritual energy into the pool, making it churn and boil.

Yue Wujie, who had lived a life of luxury, had never endured such pain. The process of "cleansing marrow and refining bones" was so excruciating that he wished for death.

In the distance, a woman sobbed.

It was the Spiritual Master girl who had tried to escape yesterday and sought his help.

Yue Wujie gritted his teeth and swallowed his cries of pain. His regret burned—not for helping the girl, but for his reckless arrogance. Upon learning the truth from her, he had come alone to save the imprisoned Spiritual Masters, only to fall into Wen Chengzhu's trap.

The consequences were what he now faced.

Having grown up in privilege, Yue Wujie had been oblivious to the harshness of the world. His grandfather had once been a great power, and later, Yue Zhiheng carried the family mantle, shielding Yue Wujie from the world's harshness.

As a disciple of the celestial sect, Yue Wujie was aware that in remote regions, some Spiritual Masters secretly served as village healers, protecting residents instead of relocating to the imperial court.

Every spring, one of Yue Zhiheng's duties was to escort these Spiritual Masters to the imperial court for "protection" and arranged marriages.

Yue Wujie once witnessed Yue Zhiheng forcibly take a village's Spiritual Master girl. Her elderly father had knelt, pleading: "Have mercy, nobleman! Hundreds of lives in our village rely on my daughter!"

But Yue Zhiheng, cold and indifferent, kicked the old man aside, sending him flying and leaving him unconscious.

The villagers could only watch in despair as their Spiritual Masters were taken to preserve the lives of the imperial nobility.

Yue Wujie once tried freeing these captured Spiritual Masters.

The result was Yue Zhiheng beating him within an inch of his life. He didn't even bother scolding him, dismissing him as a "fool."

Now, Yue Wujie realized there were places far worse than being taken by his brother.

These imprisoned Spiritual Masters were forced to manufacture jade tokens, confined underground, or compelled to torture Spiritual Practitioners through marrow-cleansing.

The once-vital Spiritual Masters had long since lost all light in their eyes. Only the newly captured ones retained any semblance of hope, desperate to escape.

Yue Wujie knew this couldn't continue. He was currently undergoing forced marrow-cleansing. Once his spiritual core was purified of any impurities, it would be time for his spiritual core to be extracted.

He finally understood how Wen Chengzhu achieved his Nine Layers of Spiritual Veins.

If one wasn't enough, then ten or even a hundred would suffice.

If monsters no longer plagued the world, human greed would become the greatest demon of all.

When the torture ended, Yue Wujie, barely alive, was dragged out. A new group of captured Spiritual Practitioners was being brought in, their clavicles locked.

As Yue Wujie glanced at a familiar figure among them, he thought he was hallucinating.

His eyes widened as he watched that person impassively pull out the weapons embedded in their body, grab a whip, and begin killing with terrifying precision.

It wasn't a dream.

When this person stepped through a sea of blood and approached him, Yue Wujie's lips trembled. He remembered his mother's recent letter and, for the first time, muttered softly, "Brother..."

Once he emerged from the underground prison, Yue Wujie finally felt like he was alive again.

The moon was extraordinarily bright that night.

The Spiritual Masters, now dressed, were all bound and handed to Yue Wujie to escort back to the imperial court.

For once, Yue Wujie didn't argue.

No one could escape from a ruined nest.

Yue Zhiheng didn't destroy the underground palace. Instead, he retrieved a box of spiritual cores, dripped his own blood onto them, and put them back.

It was his way of doing Wen Xun a favor.

Yue Wujie couldn't understand but dared not ask. This experience had matured him. He began questioning his prior beliefs, realizing how wrong he might have been.

Silently, he watched Yue Zhiheng finish and head toward the Wen estate.

Yue Wujie, still traumatized, said, "You're not… going back to kill them all, are you?"

No matter how strong Yue Zhiheng was, returning to slaughter the entire Wen family seemed reckless.

Yue Zhiheng glanced at him with faint disdain, questioning whether he even had a brain.

He had endured the pain of pierced clavicles to avoid direct conflict with the Wen family.

Now, with Wen's stronghold destroyed, his elites killed, and years of work undone, Wen Chengzhu could only swallow his losses and stay silent.

The spiritual cores Yue Zhiheng left behind were bait—it was up to Wen Chengzhu whether he dared use them.

"Zhan Yunwei is still in the Wen estate," Yue Zhiheng said, having sensed the artifact spirit's agitation. He wondered what the lady was up to.

Yue Wujie no longer scolded his brother for taking the Sword Immortal's wife. Instead, he urged, "Brother, hurry and fetch sister-in-law!"

Yue Zhiheng glanced at him, unimpressed.