Chapter 41: Returning to the Estate

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Returning to the Estate

"Young... Young Master Zeng?!!!"

Wang Daoyuan was completely dumbfounded upon seeing Zeng Anmin. A moment later, sheer delight suddenly swept across his face.

"You... You’re not dead!!"

"Cut the crap. Give me the horse. I need it."

Zeng Anmin shot him a sideways glance. His clothes were soaking wet, and he wanted to hurry home to change.

He remembered reading martial arts novels in his past life, where Martial Artists would just circulate their Inner Strength and evaporate any moisture on their bodies. He had tried to channel his Martial Artist aura to do the same, but only ended up blowing his sleeves to pieces.

"Oh, right, right!"

Wang Daoyuan did not dare to hesitate for a second. He quickly dismounted and handed the horse over to Zeng Anmin.

"Come to the Office of the Chief Clerk to get it back from me later."

Leaving only that sentence behind, Zeng Anmin spurred the horse and galloped toward the Governor’s Mansion.

Meanwhile, at the Governor’s Mansion.

In the courtyard in front of the main hall, it was early winter. Despite being in the south, the cold air still slithered down people’s necks like a venomous snake, making them involuntarily shrink their shoulders.

Dachun knelt on the ground, bare-chested and covered in bloody welts. His usually intelligent eyes were now filled with grievance. He bit down hard on his teeth, refusing to say a word.

Mr. Qi held a long whip in his hand, a vicious expression on his face. He raised his right arm, the whip slicing through the air with a whistling screech.

CRACK!!!

The whip struck Dachun’s body, leaving a fresh, bloody gash.

"Why weren’t you by the young master’s side?!"

Mr. Qi’s voice carried a trace of hatred, as if the person kneeling before him was not his own son.

Dachun pressed his lips tightly together, not daring to speak.

CRACK!!!

"If the young master doesn’t return..."

Mr. Qi paused mid-sentence, his grip on the whip faltering. A faint sheen of tears shimmered in his eyes, and his voice caught in his throat, unable to finish the thought.

CRACK!

Another lash fell.

"That is enough."

A deep, resonant voice rang out.

Zeng Shilin stepped slowly into the courtyard, his face completely devoid of expression.

"Master."

Upon seeing Zeng Shilin, Mr. Qi quickly tossed the whip aside.

THUD!

He dropped to his knees and kowtowed fiercely toward Zeng Shilin. His forehead slammed heavily against the bluestone pavement over and over, quickly cracking one of the floor tiles.

Then, with a pleading, sorrowful look, he cautiously raised his head. "The young master... has he still not been found?"

Zeng Shilin’s expression was utterly grim. He did not answer. Instead, he simply walked slowly toward the main hall.

"Whether he is found or not, Dachun should not be beaten to death by you."

With those words, he entered the main hall, found a chair, and slowly sat down, closing his eyes in silence.

He was feeling exhausted.

Seeing the master’s lonely back, Mr. Qi felt a heavy tightness in his chest. He looked at Dachun’s kneeling figure on the ground, then back at the master’s silence in the main hall.

Large, bead-like teardrops spilled from his cloudy eyes. His trembling hand picked up the whip again, but he stood rooted to the spot, entirely at a loss for what to do.

Elsewhere in the mansion.

SMASH!

A jade bowl hit the floor, shattering to pieces.

Ms. Lin stared at the maidservant in front of her in sheer disbelief. "Are you saying... Quan Fu is..."

Hu Zi glanced down at the shattered jade bowl and the glistening thick soup spilled all over the floor. He looked up at Ms. Lin in bewilderment. "Mother, I’m not full yet."

Ms. Lin had no time to pay attention to him right now. Her phoenix-like eyes were fixed squarely on the maidservant.

The maid’s eyes brimmed with sorrow. "That is what the outsiders are saying. The master has mobilized all the local troops to dredge the river..."

THUD.

Ms. Lin suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over her and slumped limply into her chair.

"Madam..."

Two maids hurried forward to support her.

Ms. Lin’s eyes looked utterly lost, her beautiful face covered in grief. Her voice was haggard. "Didn’t that Black Cat Martial Artist claim to be eliminating evil for the people? Quan Fu has always been law-abiding; he never causes any trouble..."

Hu Zi looked up curiously. Seeing that Ms. Lin was ignoring him, he slowly lay flat on his stomach and stuck his head out to lick the thick soup off the floor.

"Yummy~"

A heavy, gloomy atmosphere now enveloped the entire Governor’s Mansion.

Zeng Shilin sat upright in his chair, his gaze shifting between sharp intensity and sorrowful resignation.

"Master, that broken saber is a Spiritual Artifact. It matches the descriptions given by witnesses of Wang Lin’s assassination. We can conclude that the assassin is indeed that Black Cat Martial Artist."

Mr. Qi stood respectfully at the door.

"The Black Cat Martial Artist?" Zeng Shilin slowly raised his head, a strange glint flickering in his eyes. "To slice through a Spiritual Artifact, the opponent must possess at least a Spiritual Artifact of equal quality.

"Furthermore, their realm must be higher than the assassin’s. They would need to be at least in the Martial Arts Visualization Realm.

"Otherwise, it could only mean the opponent was wielding... a Divine Artifact."

Just as he said this, Zeng Shilin shook his head.

Simply put, the very idea was too absurd. Between the Holy Dynasty and the Jiang Dynasty combined, the total number of Divine Artifacts could be counted on one hand. The master of each Divine Artifact was a formidable overlord capable of dominating an entire region.

His thoughts grew somewhat tangled.

"There is still no news from the riverside," Mr. Qi hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up.

"I see."

Zeng Shilin’s tone revealed neither joy nor anger.

"Master..."

Ms. Lin’s voice echoed. She sat opposite Zeng Shilin, her complexion wan and her peach-blossom eyes shimmering with tears. "Quan Fu... he..."

"He will be fine." Zeng Shilin slowly raised his head and looked out the window. His voice carried an ambiguous, underlying tone. "If anything happens to Min’er, whether it is Prince Jiang’s Mansion or the Shen family, they will all go down with him."

He was a suspicious man by nature. The only reason he still played by the rules was that his untouchable nerve had not yet been crossed. But this time, the enemy had touched his absolute bottom line.

So, it no longer mattered who exactly was responsible.

His voice was not loud; he spoke as if discussing a completely trivial matter. But the killing intent contained within his words pierced straight to the bone.

"As for whether that assassin is the Black Cat Martial Artist or not, it does not matter."

"Dad!!!"

A familiar voice suddenly rang out.

The three people in the hall all froze.

Zeng Shilin frowned and looked out the window. He assumed he was missing his son so desperately that his ears were playing tricks on him.

"I’m back!" The familiar voice rang out once again. "Someone go find a change of clothes for this young master!"

The tone and attitude were as familiar as ever.

SWOOSH!!

Zeng Shilin abruptly stood up, his gaze shooting straight through the window toward the outside.

Mr. Qi’s face was also plastered with shock.

Ms. Lin was immediately overjoyed and wanted to rush outside. However, seeing that Zeng Shilin hadn’t moved, she hesitated and stayed put.

"Young Master? You’re not dead?!" Qi Dachun’s incredibly naive voice echoed.

"Dead what? I was rescued."

"Who rescued you?!!" Zeng Shilin’s voice suddenly erupted.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he cast aside all decorum and strode out the door, his eyes filled with desperate anticipation.

Their eyes met. It was that familiar silhouette.

Zeng Shilin’s hanging heart finally dropped back into his chest.

Zeng Anmin’s current appearance was wildly unkempt. Not only was he completely drenched from head to toe, but his arms were fully exposed, making him look utterly miserable.

But none of that mattered. What mattered was... he had returned alive.

Hearing his father’s familiar voice, Zeng Anmin let out a cheeky chuckle and said a name that brought a peculiar expression to everyone’s faces.

"The Black Cat Martial Artist."

"Who?!"

Mr. Qi’s eyes widened in disbelief. Wasn’t the Black Cat Martial Artist the assassin?

Only Zeng Shilin’s eyes erupted with a terrifyingly sharp glint.