Zhang Ruochen’s gaze shifted to the Tu Brothers before him. He had used the Flame God Leg deliberately to achieve this outcome—decisively defeating them with overwhelming strength, leaving them convinced of their loss.
Yet he didn’t let pride overtake him, smiling gently, “No need for formalities. I’m not well-versed in camp affairs. I’ll rely on you three going forward.”
“You’re too kind, Commander. We were overconfident and made fools of ourselves,” Tu Tian said, slightly embarrassed.
They had been certain they could crush Zhang Ruochen and claim the commander’s role, never imagining this result.
Since their debut, they’d never lost so badly, especially to someone two realms below them.
But they felt no resentment, only admiration. Zhang Ruochen had won fairly, without tricks.
A true powerhouse deserved their respect.
Zhang Ruochen said, “Sparring is ordinary. Your willingness to challenge me shows you acknowledge my strength. No need to dwell on it.”
“Your magnanimity shames us further. We’d like to host a banquet to welcome you, Commander. Please don’t decline,” Tu Tian said sincerely, meeting Zhang Ruochen’s eyes.
Zhang Ruochen smiled, “I can’t refuse such kindness.”
He aimed to establish authority, not alienate the Tu Brothers. Too many enemies wasn’t wise.
The training ground’s array deactivated, and the Tu Brothers escorted Zhang Ruochen out.
Soon, the tent was filled with fine wine and dishes. All Nine-Step Saint Kings gathered inside.
A welcome banquet for Zhang Ruochen and Ji Fanxin called for a crowd.
At the feast, led by the Tu Brothers, warriors took turns toasting Zhang Ruochen and Ji Fanxin.
Xiang Chunan, initially wary of the Tu Brothers, was soon calling them brothers after a few rounds, as if they’d known each other for years.
By the banquet’s end, night had fallen.
Zhang Ruochen stepped out alone, finding a spot to sit and gaze at the moon, his heart heavy with thoughts.
It was New Year’s Eve, snowflakes drifting beautifully.
In mortal households, families would be gathered, sharing meals and stories.
Lin Fei’s image surfaced in his mind. For years, he’d been in the Celestial Court, striving to grow stronger, rarely by her side.
Now back in the Kunlun Realm, he still couldn’t spend this New Year’s Eve with her.
But with Mu Lingxi by Lin Fei’s side, she’d likely be happy, wouldn’t she?
His thoughts turned to Chi Kunlun and Chi Kongle. Since parting in the Truth Heavenly Domain, he hadn’t seen them, wondering how they were.
As a son and father, he felt inadequate, failing his duties.
But he had no choice—too many burdens rested on him. If he could choose, he’d cherish time with his parents and children.
Gradually, Mu Lingxi’s image grew vivid in his mind.
Thinking of her, a warm smile spread across his face. Through all his trials, her constant presence was heaven’s greatest gift.
Unconsciously, he sent a transmission talisman to Mu Lingxi.
It carried no urgent news, only his longing—they’d been apart too long.
Soon, a talisman flew back from beyond the sky, caught by Zhang Ruochen.
It was from Mu Lingxi, brief but brimming with affection.
As a smile curved his lips, another talisman arrived, also from her.
Its contents made his face pale instantly.
“There’s news I think you should know. Sister Chen’s parents were killed by Black Kill Ghost King days ago.”
Clearly, Mu Lingxi had hesitated but decided Zhang Ruochen deserved to know, as Chen Liuli’s parents were once his in-laws.
The news hit hard, leaving him stunned.
During the battle at Eastern Region Saint King Manor, he’d seen Chen Liuli. So soon after, she’d met tragedy.
Inevitably, Huang Yanchen came to mind, memories of their time together flooding back.
He’d thought he’d forgotten her, but those memories were etched deep.
He wasn’t heartless—Huang Yanchen was the first woman he’d opened his heart to after past wounds.
But her deception with Chi Yao, siding fully with her, had shattered him, nearly sealing his heart again.
He should hate her, but he couldn’t.
When the Immortal Blood Clan attacked Thousand Waters County to lure him out, slaughtering her clan and capturing her parents, he’d failed her deeply.
Saint Book Talent had told him Huang Yanchen was dead. With death final, his resentment faded.
No matter what, they could never return to what was.
“Black Kill Ghost King must die.”
A chilling killing intent flared in Zhang Ruochen’s eyes.
With Huang Yanchen gone, avenging her parents fell to him.
No reason—just his heart’s resolve.
He wanted to rush to the Eastern Region and slay the ghost king, but the Northern Region battle loomed. He couldn’t leave.
He sent a talisman to A Le.
Black Kill Ghost King, a mighty Six-Tribulation Ghost King rivaling Precept Domain warriors, held a city in the Eastern Region, slaughtering countless humans. Killing him was no easy task.
Though he hadn’t seen A Le in ages, Zhang Ruochen trusted his strength for the job.
A Le was in the Kunlun Realm, the perfect choice.
Soon, A Le replied with one line: “Black Kill Ghost King won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise.”
In the Kunlun Realm, travel was swift via merit relay stations.
Zhang Ruochen had used secret teleportation arrays to hide his movements, surprising many by appearing in the Northern Region.
Entrusting the task to A Le, Zhang Ruochen fell silent, emotions swirling—bitterness, regret, resolve.
“Big Brother, why’re you out here alone?”
Feng Yan appeared behind him, unnoticed until now.
His voice snapped Zhang Ruochen back to reality.
Exhaling softly, he said, “Nothing. Just wanted some quiet, to watch the snow.”
Feng Yan saw through his mood, saying, “Big Brother, something’s on your mind. Care to share?”
Zhang Ruochen stayed silent, gazing at the moon and falling snow, his thoughts drifting to that New Year’s Eve years ago, when he and Huang Yanchen began their rift, step by step becoming strangers.
Without that event, they might’ve been happy, perhaps with children grown by now.
After a long pause, he said, “Second Brother, let me tell you a story.”
“Sure, Big Brother, go ahead,” Feng Yan replied, sitting beside him.
He didn’t know what Zhang Ruochen had endured or how to console him. All he could do was stay by his side, even just as a listener.
In moments like these, brotherhood shone brightest.
Zhang Ruochen gathered himself, saying, “Once, a prince from a weak county, to save his land from crisis, followed his father to a powerful county for aid. That county was choosing a husband for its favored princess. The prince, with outstanding performance, stunned all, winning the martial contest, and by fate, became betrothed to the princess’s sister, who was his senior sister from the same sect…”
“Through many trials, the prince slowly emerged from emotional shadows, opening his heart to his senior sister, eventually marrying her…”
“When he learned she’d deceived him with her master and stood by her master, he was consumed by anger, sealing his heart again. He cut ties with her, and they became adversaries.”
“He thought he’d hate her forever, but learning of her death, he realized he’d let go long ago. Love, hate—all drifted away.”
A tear rolled down Zhang Ruochen’s cheek.
Speaking long-buried words eased his heart.
If he could redo it, he might not have been so absolute, and she might not have faded away.
Feng Yan sighed deeply, offering no judgment.
What would he have chosen?
He knew the story’s prince was Zhang Ruochen, the princess Huang Yanchen.
He’d heard of their tale but hadn’t grasped its complexity.
Flipping his hand, Feng Yan produced a wine gourd, saying, “Big Brother, let’s have a drink.”
Zhang Ruochen took the gourd without a word, taking a long swig.
He wasn’t a drinker, but now he craved it—perhaps drunkenness could drown his sorrows.
“Big Brother, you two drinking out here without me? Not cool!” Xiang Chunan burst from the tent.
Zhang Ruochen smiled faintly, tossing the gourd, “Perfect timing. Second Brother just brought out the wine—rare stuff. Try it.”
Xiang Chunan caught it, grinning, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Feng Yan rolled his eyes, “Third Brother, don’t blame us. We never forget you with good stuff. You were half-drunk earlier, nearly out cold, so we didn’t call you.”
“Out cold? No way. My tolerance is unmatched. I could go rounds more. Second Brother, bring out all your good wine. Before the battle, let’s drink hearty!” Xiang Chunan boasted.
When it came to drinking, he was supreme.
Feng Yan shook his head, “Fine, have it your way. Drink all you want. My family’s in the wine business—think I’d run dry?”
Xiang Chunan laughed, “Now that’s a brother.”
Watching Feng Yan and Xiang Chunan, Zhang Ruochen’s face warmed with a heartfelt smile. With such brothers by his side, fate had been kind.
