The warriors of Yang Kai's estate, led by Qiu Yimeng, were just about to set out when Di Mo suddenly appeared beside Qiu Yimeng, frowning. "No need to go out. It seems the Young Master has returned."
"Returned?" Qiu Yimeng breathed an immediate sigh of relief. Ever since Yang Kai had taken Ying Jiu and rushed out these past few days, she had been on edge, terrified that he might run into some kind of trouble. Hearing Di Mo's words, she finally let her guard down and quickly asked, "Where is he now?"
Di Mo's expression was grim. He probed with his senses for a while before speaking in a deep voice. "He's come back, but he doesn't seem to have any intention of returning to the estate. He's heading southeast."
"Southeast…" Qiu Yimeng murmured, and her face changed. "That's the direction of Yang Zhao's estate!"
"Whoever provoked the Young Master, he's furious right now!" Di Mo took a deep breath. "I'm going to protect him!"
The words had barely left his mouth when his body transformed into a streak of blood-red light and vanished.
Qiu Yimeng paled, not daring to hesitate. She immediately rallied the experts in the estate and rushed out after him.
At the same time, Meng Wuya, who had been meditating in his room, slowly opened his eyes. His brow furrowed as his gaze locked onto the direction where Yang Kai was. He muttered to himself, "What is this brat up to? Such intense murderous aura."
As he spoke, he hurriedly rose to his feet, opened the door, and stared toward the horizon. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, blocking out every trace of sunlight. It was as if the entire War City had been plunged into darkness. The churning black clouds pressed down on everyone's hearts like ink-soaked cotton, heavy and oppressive.
With a faint sigh, Meng Wuya took a few steps and drifted several hundred zhang away in an instant.
In the Sealed God Temple, the eight Shenyou Realm experts seated around the high platform had all withdrawn from the small world formed by their merged divine senses. They exchanged glances, and a hint of surprise flickered in their otherwise clouded old eyes.
Daoist Qiu pondered for a moment before saying, "Brother Yang, that boy of yours seems to be showing signs of Qi Deviation."
Yang Liting sat with an indifferent expression, eyes closed, saying nothing.
The stout elder chuckled. "You're not going to do anything? If you let this go on, he really could fall into Qi Deviation."
Only then did Yang Liting open his eyes, speaking flatly, "Each walks his own path. I have no leisure to concern myself with whether he lives or dies."
"And if his temperament truly changes and he becomes a demonic cultivator?" The Shenyou expert from the Kang family furrowed his brow. "A young man with such intense murderous and violent aura—he'll inevitably have his nature twisted sooner or later, falling into the demonic path and becoming a ruthless killer who recognizes no kin."
"If that time comes, I will personally clean up my sect's house. There's no need to trouble Brother Kang," Yang Liting responded coldly.
Hearing his reply, the other seven saw no point in pressing further. They slowly shook their heads, privately thinking that though the Yang family was powerful, their dominance probably wouldn't last much longer. Their family bonds were far too thin. If something like this had happened to a young disciple from their own clans, how could they possibly sit still? They would have stormed out long ago to drag the boy back, give him a proper education, and suppress the demonic tendencies within him.
What's more, the boy was extraordinarily talented—quite possibly a rising star for the Yang family's future. The fact that Yang Liting was willing to simply leave him to his own devices baffled them.
They simply couldn't understand.
But ultimately, this was someone else's household affair. They were all old and had cultivated a calm temperament. If Yang Liting himself didn't care, they certainly couldn't be bothered to interfere. Some even secretly took a certain pleasure in watching this unfold.
The Yang family had held the title of the foremost among the Eight Great Families of Zhongdu for far too long. If things continued on this trajectory, within a hundred years they would inevitably be surpassed by one of the other seven families.
The irony was that something even the other seven families could clearly see was lost on the Yang family themselves—they were too close to the situation.
Yang Zhao's Estate.
Nan Sheng and Xiang Chu slunk back like stray dogs, their frantic cries having disturbed Yang Zhao in his bed.
He quickly rose and looked outside.
"Second Young Master, what's wrong?" Ye Xinrou's waist twisted like a water snake as she rose. Her porcelain-white body was bared to the air, her long, shapely legs still wrapped around Yang Zhao's waist. Her eyes were glazed with desire, a rosy blush on her cheeks, passion surging within her.
"Something isn't right. I think I heard Xiang Chu and Nan Sheng's voices," Yang Zhao said with a frown.
"Are they back?" Ye Xinrou's face blossomed into a radiant smile, adding a touch of seductive allure to her beauty. "Then they must have brought good news for the Second Young Master."
Yang Zhao chuckled lightly and reached out to give the firm, full curve of her chest a squeeze. The flesh rippled under his hand with astonishing elasticity.
The rough gesture drew a coquish cry from Ye Xinrou, who shot him a reproachful look.
"I'd better be right!" Yang Zhao harbored his own expectations. This operation had been carried out with absolute secrecy, and he had placed great faith in Kang Zhan and Qiu Ziruo. He had spent these past few days waiting for news, too distracted to cultivate, which was why he had ended up in bed with Ye Xinrou, trying to ease his anxiety and the torment of the wait.
Otherwise, given his nature, he would never have indulged in such daytime trysts. Beautiful women were certainly tempting, but he valued his own strength and the power he could wield far more.
As long as he could defeat Yang Kai in the battle for succession, his eldest brother Yang Wei would pose no threat. And then he would claim the final victory in the succession struggle with ease.
"Since it's good news, can't you wait a little while before going to hear it?" Ye Xinrou cooed sweetly, wrapping her slender arms around Yang Zhao's neck and pulling him back down, hoping to keep him a moment longer.
"Stop it. If it really is good news, I'll come spoil you tonight!" Yang Zhao's eyes gleamed, not with lust, but with nothing but endless anticipation.