Chapter 4

“Master of the Hall, the War Department of the Great Xia Kingdom is making a move.”

At this moment, in the hotel room, Tian Jiu stood behind Chu Tianhe, his expression heavy.

The moment Chu Tianhe crushed the bracelet earlier, Tian Jiu knew that this seemingly minor act would surely send shockwaves throughout the entire Great Xia Kingdom.

“Shh!”

Chu Tianhe frowned, gesturing for silence. He cared nothing for the War Department’s movements; what concerned him now was his daughter, Chu Yueyao, who lay fast asleep on the bed.

“Rest, my dear. After this sleep, you will be well again.” Chu Tianhe gently stroked his daughter’s soft cheek, his touch so tender it was as though he cradled a national treasure—no, even when handling treasures of inestimable worth, Chu Tianhe would never be so gentle!

This sight left Tian Jiu utterly stunned.

He had followed Chu Tianhe for many years. In his memory, Chu Tianhe was always the master strategist, decisive and ruthless—sometimes almost cruel. Never had he witnessed such tenderness from him.

“So what if the War Department is mobilizing?” Chu Tianhe turned his head. The gentle expression vanished, replaced by a fierce and murderous aura between his brows.

Tian Jiu dared not speak further. He immediately dropped to one knee, cold sweat beading across his brow.

With Chu Tianhe’s strength, even if the War Department’s finest gathered to face him, they would be no match.

“Have you investigated the Li family’s situation?”

“It is done. Today is the fiftieth birthday of Li Changshun, head of the Li family. He is hosting a grand banquet.”

“They drove my beloved wife to death, tormented my daughter, and now the Li family revels in music and song?” Fury surged within Chu Tianhe—his murderous intent burst forth. With a cold laugh, he declared, “Very well! Have Linglong come to care for my daughter. You, bring Li Chengze, and come with me to the Li family!”

“Yes, sir!”

—

Jiangzhou City, the Li Family.

At this moment, the Li residence was a scene of extravagant celebration. The city’s underworld and legitimate leaders alike gathered beneath its roof; even notables from the provincial capital had arrived, a testament to Li Changshun’s influence in Jiangzhou.

In the sprawling villa of over six hundred square meters, the air was thick with voices and laughter. Lavish gifts poured in, and every guest bowed and scraped before Li Changshun, vying for his favor.

All Jiangzhou knew the truth: though the Li family’s trade was ostensibly in general goods, their clandestine dealings ran far deeper.

Hence the local saying: “Offend a king if you must, but never cross a Li—or you won’t live to see the dawn.”

“A gift from the Chu family of Jiangzhou!”

As cups clinked and laughter rose, a voice thundered through the crowd, arrogant and unyielding.

A hush fell instantly. Instinctively, people turned toward the sound, wondering who could be so reckless as to speak in such a tone at this gathering.

Bang!

Before anyone could react, a massive wine jar dropped from above, landing squarely in the center of the villa.

A foul, acrid stench quickly spread. Guests recoiled, pinching their noses and scattering in alarm.

Gasps and retching broke out as people finally saw what was within the jar.

There, inside, was a man—hair in disarray, eyes gouged out, maggots crawling visibly within his sockets.

On closer look, he was none other than Li Changshun’s son, Li Chengze!

Crash.

Li Changshun’s wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered at his feet. His eyes nearly burst from their sockets in fury.

Rage overwhelmed him. He rushed to his son, trembling hands cradling Li Chengze’s head. “Chengze, you… how did this—who did this to you?”

“Someone! Fetch someone! Bring a doctor, now!” He nearly fainted from anger and grief, shrieking for help.

The guests, seeing the fate of Li Chengze, turned pale with fear. A chorus of terrified murmurs swept the hall.

“Who would dare do this to Young Master Li?”

“In Jiangzhou, crossing the Li family is a death wish!”

“This is a disaster. With injuries like that, the sky above Jiangzhou may as well have collapsed.”

“I’ve heard the Li family keeps a hundred masters of ancient martial arts. Who would be so blind as to provoke them?”

As the crowd buzzed in shock, a gleam of cold steel spun through the air.

Shing!

Before their stunned eyes, a short blade, glinting with murderous light, shot forward. Right before Li Changshun, it plunged into Li Chengze’s skull from the back and burst through his forehead. Blood, thick and yellow-white, spattered out, spraying Li Changshun’s face.

The entire hall was struck dumb. The lively Li residence fell into utter silence; one could hear a pin drop.

Li Changshun was rooted in place, staring blankly at his son’s shattered head. His mind seemed to short-circuit, as though all the air had been sucked from the room.

“Who?!”

“Who dares kill my son?!”

“Who?!”

Li Changshun’s furious roar shook the villa. His hair bristled, fists clenched, veins bulging as he glared toward the main entrance.

At his command, dozens of black-clad martial masters surged into the hall, each exuding a palpable killing intent.

The guests were paralyzed with terror.

To slaughter the Li family’s only heir at his father’s fiftieth birthday, before his very eyes—what kind of audacious madman would dare such a thing?

As all eyes turned to the villa’s entrance, Chu Tianhe appeared before them.

He wore a black trench coat; his back was straight as a javelin, unyielding as a mountain. That presence—majestic and immovable—was the mark of a supreme master.

“Today, the Li family will be washed in blood. All unrelated persons, leave at once, or die with them!”