Chapter Thirty-Eight: That Astonishing Shade of Violet

Yun Yufeng was in high spirits, humming a little tune as he strolled along the path, unconsciously making his way to the clan’s training grounds. From within came shouts and cries—the Yun family youths were practicing martial arts.

With hands clasped behind his back, Yun Yufeng stepped into the training ground and glanced around. The boys and girls were sparring under the supervision of martial instructors, and the weapon racks lining the area held spears, forks, staves, blades, swords, axes, and halberds, all in full array.

As soon as Yun Yufeng entered, everyone noticed him, and heads turned his way. Instantly, whistles and jeers rang out, the mocking calls unceasing.

“Well, if it isn’t Master Yun, the one who survived disaster! What brings you here to visit old friends today?”

“Guess he’s learned a few tricks from little Xi Yu and came to show off for us.”

“Ah, finally seeing some sense. Even if he’s here to exercise, at least he’ll provide us some entertainment. If you put in a good effort today, I’ll treat you to dinner—hahaha!”

...

Why had Yun Yufeng been such a wastrel before? Simply because his talent was poor, and he was bullied, so he indulged himself, using his young master status to torment weaker servants. Yet none of the direct descendants cared for him; without strength, one gained no respect.

The ridicule continued unabated, but Yun Yufeng paid it no mind, his gaze fixed on a frail figure beside the weapon rack.

The small figure looked up, dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. Seeing Yun Yufeng mocked, tiny fists clenched tightly, then fell in defeat.

For once, Yun Yufeng’s normally calm heart flared with anger. He strode over, examining the child carefully and was relieved to see no serious injuries.

“Yulan, what happened? Why are you here?”

A few tears fell as Yun Yulan’s voice, barely audible, faltered: “Brother... I...”

Yun Yufeng gently stroked his brother’s hair. “Tell me, and I’ll help you.”

“I lost the sword you gave me. I know it was expensive, so... I didn’t dare tell you.” The small body shook with sobs, head bowed deeply.

“That sword? If it’s lost, so be it; it’s nothing to worry about. Next time, I’ll give you an even better one.”

“But it was a gift from you. So I took leave from the town’s academy today and came back, hoping to retrieve it. But no one would help me... I... I couldn’t get it back. He said the sword was a gift from his brother.” Yun Yulan hung his head, deeply aggrieved.

“It’s alright, don’t cry. Be a man—bleed but don’t shed tears. I’ll get it back for you.” With that, he grasped Yun Yulan’s arm to lift him up, but Yun Yulan flinched slightly, inhaling sharply.

Yun Yufeng rolled up his brother’s sleeve, revealing a purple bruise winding around the slender arm. His pupils contracted, and he asked coldly, “Who did this?” His voice was icy and indifferent, without the slightest ripple, as chilling as ancient black ice.

Yun Yulan’s eyes opened wide, as if his elder brother had suddenly become a stranger, yet it made him feel even more protected.

“It was Yun Yejiao, big brother,” Yun Yulan said cautiously, glancing at his brother.

“Don’t call him brother. He’s not worthy.” Yun Yufeng’s tone was frigid. To harm a child, especially Yulan—what sort of person was that?

“Brother, let it go. Don’t confront him—you can’t beat him. I heard he’s already at the fourth stage of cultivation, one of the top fighters here.” Yun Yulan was anxious; the last time Yun Yufeng struck Yun Shangmo with a brick and was beaten badly, he witnessed it. Back then, Yun Shangmo was only at the third stage.

Yun Yufeng slowly bent down, gently touching his brother’s head. “Let me tell you something. Kindness invites bullying; gentleness invites exploitation. If you want peace, use your fists to make them understand. Do you get it?”

Yun Yulan was half-confused, nodding and then shaking his head.

Yun Yufeng sighed softly. “It’s alright if you don’t understand now—you will soon.”

“Oh!” Yun Yulan blinked, a little lost.

Yun Yufeng straightened, took a step forward, and declared, “Whoever bullied my brother, step forward!” His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to every ear, causing a sudden tension. The detached, lifeless tone made everyone’s hairs stand on end.

Yet the moment passed quickly, and the crowd erupted, their gazes unfriendly and slightly annoyed to have been unsettled by this notorious wastrel.

“Yun Yufeng, what are you shouting about? Never learned manners, have you?” Laughter roared, and several girls giggled wildly, their developing figures swaying alluringly.

“Spineless coward—won’t admit what you’ve done? Yun Yejiao! Get out here.”

“I’m right here—say what you mean, and spare me the nonsense.” Yun Yejiao, bare-chested, twisted his neck, bones cracking.

“If I hadn’t called your name, would you have kept hiding? Yun Yejiao.”

“How am I supposed to know who your brother is? You say so and expect me to come forward—how embarrassing. Anyway, what’s it to me? If I hit him, so what?” Yun Yejiao acted as if he owned the world, nostrils flared in arrogance.

Yun Yufeng, seeing such stupidity, couldn’t help but laugh. The smile on his face grew, but the chill in his eyes deepened, his gaze fixed on Yun Yejiao. “Let’s not speak of those things. My hands are itching; I’d like to spar with you. Do you dare?” His lips curled in mockery.

“A target delivered to my door would be wasted otherwise. Isn’t that right?” Yun Yejiao shouted.

The crowd agreed loudly. Bullying the wastrel was a common pastime; it carried no guilt or concern—as long as he wasn’t crippled or killed, there’d be no trouble.

“In that case, everyone else, step aside. Today, I’ll witness the so-called brilliance of Young Master Yun Yejiao.”

“Relax, I won’t let you lose too quickly. I’ll make sure you enjoy it, so much you’ll feel heavenly and hellish.”

The two stood in the arena. Yun Yejiao let out a roar and lunged at Yun Yufeng. His hands curled like eagle claws, his heart technique activated, noble amethyst light flooding his bare chest. Muscles bulged, force enough to shatter gold and stone.

Yun Yufeng, hands behind his back, walked calmly toward Yun Yejiao’s onslaught, his robes fluttering, his skin unchanged, showing no sign of transformation.

Yun Yulan covered his mouth, eyes wide as he watched his brother, heart pounding. Seeing the iron claws approaching, he was about to cry out in alarm.

The Yun family youths whispered among themselves: “Wastrel as ever—so arrogant in his challenge, yet here to be slaughtered.”

“I thought he’d grown stronger after a month missing, but he’s still the same fool.”

“The wastrel used to dodge, cheat, and run away, employing every trick. Now he delivers himself—did his brain worsen over that month? Won’t that ruin our fun in the future? What should we do?”

“How many moves before he begs for mercy? One, or half a move? Haha!”

“I’d like to see him stand his ground with some backbone—that would be interesting. Heh.”

...

...

“Brother, you must win, you must. Please stay safe,” Yun Yulan whispered in prayer.

As Yun Yejiao’s iron claws were about to seize Yun Yufeng’s brow, a surge of battle energy erupted from Yun Yufeng, like an ancient beast awakening from slumber. In an instant, waves of force swept the arena, a heavy aura pressed upon Yun Yejiao, making his blood vessels seem ready to burst.

Yun Yufeng’s long hair flew, his battle energy surged like mountains and prisons. His pale hand pressed lightly against Yun Yejiao’s chest, a streak of purple light flashed.

Yun Yejiao’s amethyst chest resounded with the crack of breaking bones, the purple hue dimmed instantly, and his body was hurled away by the force, blood spurting midair to stain the training ground crimson.

For a moment, the entire arena was silent. All eyes followed Yun Yejiao’s flight and fall, mouths agape, unbelieving. Yun Yejiao had been defeated—utterly, with a single blow.

In every mind the same thought echoed: If he’s a wastrel, then what are we? Who is the true wastrel?

After a long pause, someone muttered, “Why didn’t Yun Yufeng’s skin turn amethyst? How did he change overnight from wastrel to prodigy?”

A martial instructor rushed to report to the clan chief: “Clan Chief, I have urgent news. Yun Yufeng has gravely injured Yun Yejiao, with a single move, and... and...”

“And what? Speak up,” the old clan chief frowned, wondering why Yufeng would injure someone so severely.

“Yun Yufeng seems to have mastered the fifth layer of the Amethyst Emperor Heart Technique,” the instructor panted.

“What? Impossible! Are you certain? Hm?” The clan chief was stunned. Could it be that the last time the third elder took Yufeng to the mountain summit, it was for him to break through to the fifth layer?

“It’s absolutely true—I couldn’t mistake it. That dazzling purple, unforgettable.”

“Issuing a gag order. None of this happened today, understand? Tell me how it started.”

“It seems someone stole Yun Yufeng’s younger brother’s valuable sword and offered it to Yun Yejiao. Yun Yufeng happened to come to the training ground, and Yun Yulan came to ask for his sword, but was beaten and injured. You know, Clan Chief, Yun Yufeng fiercely protects his siblings. With everyone mocking and making much of his wastrel past, this is what happened.”

“That’s nothing—young people need their passion. Go, issue the gag order.” The old clan chief sent the instructor off and headed toward the scripture tower.

“Yun Yejiao, where’s the sword? Bring it to me.” Yun Yufeng’s words were calm, his expression indifferent. The man before him still had blood at his lips, yet Yun Yufeng showed no trace of pity.

Yun Yejiao looked at Yun Yufeng in terror, hands pressed to the ground, trying to rise but unable—his chest already slightly caved in.

He had no choice but to beg, “Yun Yufeng, I admit defeat. The sword will be returned immediately.” He coughed, bloody foam in his throat making a rattling sound with each breath.

Yun Yufeng’s face was expressionless. “I’m waiting.”

Yun Yejiao signaled to someone outside the arena, who quickly fetched the sword and handed it to Yun Yufeng, then hurried away, not daring to linger lest Yun Yufeng vent his wrath.

“If there’s a next time, you know the consequences.” With that, he turned and supported his brother as they left the training ground. From start to finish, he said nothing more. The coldness emanating from him was palpable; no one dared stand up for Yun Yejiao or provoke this harbinger of disaster.