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Chapter 87: Father Got Hurt on Purpose
🕑 Added 2024-09-17 05:22:17 +0000 UTC“W-what...?”
“Is it over already?”
The crowd below looked up at the scene in the sky, their eyes dazed, as if they were trapped in a dream.
The previously invincible Supreme Saint, who had appeared like a god, had been casually slain, just like that?
Was this truly a battle between beings of the same realm?
How could the gap be so vast?
This shouldn’t be possible!
In realms like Pure Yang or Nirvana, it wasn’t unusual for talented individuals to obliterate those in the same realm. After all, many geniuses could challenge and defeat those of higher levels.
But in the Supreme Saint realm…
Anyone who reached this level wasn't a fool. And yet, even within this sacred realm, such a massive disparity existed?
It was beyond belief.
The only explanation was that their limited vision restricted their imagination.
The world was far bigger than they could comprehend, filled with prodigies. No matter how monstrous a genius, there was always someone more extraordinary!
Whoosh!
In the sky, Qin Chuan waved his hand over the white-haired youth’s corpse, scattering his body into the air, returning it to the heavens, mingling with the wind.
Then, he descended to the ground.
"Father!!"
Qin Zi rushed toward his father, embracing him tightly, tears of joy streaming down his face.
It was the relief of regaining something precious.
Earlier, he had truly believed he was going to lose his father. The despair and anguish that had gripped his heart had been unbearable, tearing him apart.
“It's okay now, it’s all over.”
Qin Chuan patted his son’s head, then turned to the bald elder and said, “Thank you for your help, old friend.”
“Heh, it was nothing.”
The bald elder chuckled modestly.
However, Qin Zi sensed something odd. He looked at the elder, then at his father.
"Father, what was that all about earlier...?"
Why had his father been injured? Why had the bald elder protected him but not saved his father? Qin Zi had a hunch, but he wanted confirmation—he needed to hear it from his father directly.
"Heh, as you’ve probably guessed, I was hurt on purpose. I wanted to see if, without me to rely on, you would have the courage to face a Supreme Saint on your own."
"Relying on someone else’s strength doesn’t count as true courage—it’s nothing more than borrowing power, like a fox exploiting the tiger’s might."
"True bravery is when, even after losing your reliance, you still dare to face an unbeatable enemy head-on. That’s real courage."
Qin Chuan smiled warmly and said, “And you proved it—you didn’t disappoint me.”
“Father…”
Qin Zi bit his lip, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude. His father was always thinking of him, always going to great lengths for him.
“Haha, Qin Chuan, you’re too good at acting! You hid your strength so well, even I didn’t see through it.”
The bald elder patted Qin Chuan’s shoulder, laughing. “If you hadn’t told me the plan beforehand, I would’ve thought you were really injured! Truly impressive!”
Even though the elder had been in on the plan, he’d still broken into a cold sweat during the fight.
Qin Chuan had acted too convincingly, and whatever method he’d used to hide his strength was flawless…
“It was just a small trick, nothing worth mentioning.”
Qin Chuan smiled humbly, knowing well that sometimes when you told the truth, people were less likely to believe you.
The more modest you were, the more impressive people thought you were.
"Old Ancestor, what should we do with these people?"
At that moment, the Jiuyang Emperor, who had barely been noticed, pointed to the few remaining members of the Vermilion Bird Dynasty.
The Vermilion Bird Prince and Princess sat slumped on the ground, utterly hopeless, while the elderly eunuchs trembled with fear.
"You've already killed their Supreme Saint and emperor. This feud is now one of life and death. There's no point in letting them live."
The bald elder spoke calmly.
Although he appeared kind in front of Qin Chuan, at his core, he was not a merciful man. When it came time to be ruthless, he didn’t hesitate.
If you don’t pull out the weeds by their roots, they’ll grow back stronger in the spring!
“Mercy, please! We swear loyalty to the Jiuyang Dynasty. We’ll serve you faithfully, as your servants!”
“Please spare us!”
The elderly eunuchs couldn’t hold back anymore. They dropped to their knees, kowtowing in desperation, tears streaming down their faces.
Eunuchs, after all, lacked strength in every sense.
The Vermilion Bird Prince and Princess, while pale and trembling, still held onto a shred of dignity. They stood silently, teeth clenched, without begging for their lives.
“Kill them.”
The bald elder’s voice remained cold.
“Yes, sir!!”
Several of the royal family’s Tongtian elders moved swiftly, executing the remaining members of the Vermilion Bird Dynasty.
The prince and princess didn’t escape death.
After all, they hadn’t even been given names.
At this moment, Qin Zi approached Yang Shengtian, who still lay on the ground like a corpse.
Despite the chaos, Yang Shengtian hadn’t moved, staring blankly at the sky.
“Get up.”
Qin Zi bent down, extending a hand to him.
Yang Shengtian glanced at him, didn’t take the hand, and instead stood up on his own, walking past Qin Zi without a word.
Qin Zi froze in place.
As they passed each other, he heard a faint, melancholic whisper:
"Actually... I don’t dislike you..."
Qin Zi stood there in shock, turning to watch Yang Shengtian’s retreating figure, his heart filled with confusion and a sense of melancholy.
That figure, walking away, seemed weighed down by sorrow.
"Shengtian, come back!!"
The Jiuyang Emperor shouted angrily, his face darkening, but Yang Shengtian continued to walk away, his steps unsteady.
The emperor turned to Qin Chuan with an apologetic expression. “Master Qin Chuan, I’m sorry. This child has been affected by the battle and has lost his sense of propriety.”
“It’s fine.”
Qin Chuan smiled and shook his head.
He had overheard the soft words Yang Shengtian had spoken to Qin Zi. Though quiet, Qin Chuan’s keen ears had picked them up.
This young man... it seemed he had a story behind him.
And Qin Chuan liked people with stories. Those who carried such weight were often destined for great things.
Their stories, their inner struggles, formed a powerful determination that could push them farther down the martial path.
The bald elder, too, glanced at the fading figure, a complicated expression flashing across his face before he sighed deeply.
“Ahh...”
In this world, many invisible walls existed. Some on the outside longed to enter, while those inside wished they could leave.
…
Yang Shengtian didn’t actually dislike Qin Zi.
The way he had targeted Qin Zi earlier was more a product of his ingrained behavior—a kind of habitual outburst or even a way to vent his frustrations.
His heart was full of turmoil.
This turmoil didn’t stem from others but from his own family, as he had realized that his family was hiding something from him.
He had been recognized as the royal family’s greatest prodigy from a young age, and he had accepted that, feeling proud and superior.
But over time, he began to notice something unsettling.
His older brother, his sister, and other peers, while outwardly respectful, never truly feared him.
Sometimes, he even caught glimpses of pity in their eyes...
It was as if they were looking at a failure in a competition, or like they were watching a stray cat, a poor jester to be pitied.
As he grew older, that feeling became more pronounced, and he began to realize that it wasn’t just in his head.
Eventually, he secretly dug into his family’s history, piecing together small clues, and uncovered a shocking theory.
This realization filled him with rage and despair. His family was carrying out a grand plan—and he had been left out from the very start.
He was angry. He was bitter.
Why?
Why were they doing this to him?
Was he not part of the Yang family? Did they think he was too useless to be involved?
Or were they afraid he might expose the plan, that he wasn’t smart enough to keep his mouth shut?
Why?!
Was it because of some small flaws in his youth, that they had written him off so early in life, dismissing him as a failure?
But they were wrong!
Yang Shengtian hadn’t dragged them down. Even as an outcast, he had played his role to perfection.
He had acted arrogant.
He had ignored authority.
He had been ruthless.
He had embodied every flaw of their decaying royal family and displayed them to the world, acting as a distraction.
He knew his family hid many talents in the shadows, and so they needed a true fool.
He was that fool.
If he had remained ignorant, he could have lived his life recklessly, at least enjoying himself.
But now he knew.
And now, there was a knot in his heart.
His frustration stemmed from the fact that while others in the family would go down in history as models of patience, his own endurance would be seen as nothing more than his inherent nature—a failure from the start.
When the family discarded him, it had already been decided. Even if he were to die tomorrow, the world would see him as a wasteful prince, not as someone who had sacrificed for his family’s revival.
And yet, despite all this.
He chose to remain silent.
Because this secret could never be revealed. He couldn’t complain or confront anyone.
Revealing the truth would ruin everything. His family’s hard work over the years would be destroyed.
So, he would remain the fool.
A silent fool.
One who disappointed everyone, yet stayed loyal to the family until the very end.
Thus, he feared no one and respected no one.
Even if it was the Old Ancestor, his anger allowed him to curse, just as he had cursed his brother in the Spirit Pool.
Because the entire family owed him. And because he was always ready to die.
Whenever he died, his mission would be complete. His mission was to live as an object of hatred, and die as a joke.
He was a discarded piece, playing his role perfectly.
But for all that, he still loved his family deeply.
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