Chapter Seven: Settling Down, Keeping a Low Profile

At midday, the sun blazed overhead.

On the Yang family’s training grounds atop Yellow Maple Mountain, roaring sounds echoed in all directions as crimson fireballs and white flames flew through the air.

Boom!

With another fireball spell blocked by the Savage Ox’s shield, Yang Xuan descended from the sky and announced,

“That’s enough for today!”

Hearing this, Savage Ox begrudgingly withdrew his shield. “Young Master Xuan, that’s not fair! I was just getting serious!”

Seeing Savage Ox’s face blackened by smoke and his disheveled state, Yang Xuan couldn’t help but smile.

Savage Ox was indeed strong, but the gap in advantage between martial artists and cultivators was simply too great.

They’d been fighting for nearly an hour. At first, Yang Xuan had seemed a bit flustered, but as time passed and he grew more adept at wielding his spells, the scales of victory tipped ever more in his favor.

In the end, no matter how Savage Ox attacked, he couldn’t touch Yang Xuan, while every one of Yang Xuan’s strikes landed on him.

Though he had an Iron Floating Shield for defense, even the best can slip up. No matter how he guarded, Yang Xuan eventually found an opening and struck him with several fireball spells.

He had planned to endure the blows and counterattack once Yang Xuan’s spiritual power was spent, but just as Yang Xuan was running low, he simply declared the match over. How could Savage Ox be content after enduring such a beating?

“Don’t be so disgruntled, Savage Ox. Do you really think Young Master Xuan has shown all his cards?

Don’t forget, he still has two magic treasures, especially the Firecloud Sword—a mid-grade artifact inscribed with eleven magical seals.

If Young Master Xuan used that, your Iron Floating Shield wouldn’t stand a chance!”

At that moment, a burly man stepped out from the onlookers, having noticed Savage Ox’s dissatisfaction, and spoke up.

His words made Savage Ox pause thoughtfully.

It was the truth.

While it might have looked like Yang Xuan and Savage Ox were evenly matched, that was only because Yang Xuan was genuinely treating this as a practical exercise.

If he wanted to win, it would be child’s play for Yang Xuan.

Why must martial artists always bow before cultivators?

Aside from the fact that most martial arts techniques were controlled by cultivators, the main reason was that cultivators’ combat prowess far exceeded that of martial artists.

Not to mention, apart from a lack of combat experience, Yang Xuan’s magical treasures were among the best at his level.

Mid-grade treasures—apart from his father, Yang Huaiyun, and his elder brother, Yang Li, who each possessed one, only he had such an item in the entire Yang family.

…

Leaving the training grounds, Yang Xuan was about to head back when the burly man called out to him.

“Young Master Xuan, the master has asked me to bring you to him—he has something to discuss with you.”

“Do you know what it’s about?” Yang Xuan inquired.

“I do not, sir,” Commander Wang replied.

With a thoughtful nod, Yang Xuan guessed at Yang Huaiyun’s purpose in summoning him.

Commander Wang did not accompany Yang Xuan. After delivering the message, he departed of his own accord.

Yang Xuan stood for a moment, lost in thought, before making his way to the study where Yang Huaiyun usually spent his time.

Commander Wang hadn’t told him where Yang Huaiyun was, but with the original body’s memories, Yang Xuan was fairly certain he’d be in his study.

And so he was. When Yang Xuan entered, he saw Yang Huaiyun sitting at his desk, a book in hand.

“Father,” Yang Xuan greeted with a bow.

“You released Yang Qian?”

Setting aside his book, Yang Huaiyun asked.

Before Yang Xuan could respond, he continued with a hint of satisfaction, “Not bad. You’re much more sensible than before—you know when to be lenient. However, you shouldn’t have extorted so many spirit stones from your second mother.”

At these words, Yang Xuan felt a little awkward. Extorting his own stepmother wasn’t exactly honorable.

Indeed, there seemed to be no secrets in the Yang household that could escape Yang Huaiyun’s notice—neither Yang Qian’s attempt to steal his Foundation Establishment Pill nor his own extortion of spirit stones from his stepmother.

Perhaps seeing Yang Xuan’s prolonged silence and mistaking it for fear, Yang Huaiyun offered comfort:

“Don’t worry. She gave those spirit stones of her own accord. Even if your methods weren’t entirely aboveboard, the fact that you managed to get them from her is a testament to your abilities.

However, internal strife is never what I wish to see. You shouldn’t have left a hidden trick in Yang Qian’s body after promising to let him go.

If I hadn’t discovered the spiritual power you left in him in time, it could have crippled him.”

Strife between brothers is a father’s deepest sorrow.

Yang Huaiyun may have been furious when he found Yang Qian had tried to steal Yang Xuan’s Foundation Establishment Pill, even vowing to send Yang Qian to hell himself if anything happened to Yang Xuan—but those were words spoken in anger. In the end, they were both his sons; how could he truly bear to kill one with his own hands?

Yang Xuan was not surprised that Yang Huaiyun discovered the trick he’d left in Yang Qian’s body in the dungeon. Injecting a strand of spiritual power wasn’t particularly subtle—any Foundation Establishment cultivator would sense and remove it with a simple inspection.

After a pause, Yang Xuan hesitated. “But Father, you always taught us from childhood: never show mercy to your enemies!

You also know that Yang Qian and I are already irreconcilable. If I don’t strike hard now, next time it’ll be me who suffers!

Besides, with all due respect, someone as base and irredeemably foolish as Yang Qian is nothing but a disaster waiting to happen!”

To show mercy to your enemy is to be cruel to yourself.

Though the hatred belonged to the body’s original owner, having inherited the body, Yang Xuan had also inherited the enmity.

Therefore, he’d left a strand of spiritual power in Yang Qian’s body when he released him from the dungeon, determined to ensure this troublemaker would no longer be a threat.

Clearly, his plan had failed; Yang Huaiyun did not approve of his methods.

Perhaps stung by his words, Yang Huaiyun fixed Yang Xuan with a hard stare before finally speaking in a cold voice:

“Your thinking is too extreme. You are already a Foundation Establishment cultivator, while Yang Qian is still at the Qi Refining stage. He won’t have a chance at Foundation Establishment for another ten years, and by then, do you think you’ll have stood still? He poses no threat to you whatsoever!

In the eyes of great families, there is no right or wrong, only benefit and harm. I can sense your cleverness, but remember—one can easily be blinded by their own intelligence. What you need now is to settle down and keep a low profile.

That’s enough. You may leave. Go to the library and read the Daoist or Buddhist classics—temper your disposition.”

With a wave of his hand, Yang Huaiyun turned away to face the paintings on the wall, clearly wishing to see no more of Yang Xuan.

After a moment of silence, Yang Xuan could only smile wryly and take his leave.

Heaven knows, all he’d done was leave a bit of spiritual power in Yang Qian’s body as a lesson!

He never truly meant to kill him.

Yet now, in Yang Huaiyun’s eyes, he seemed to have become a bloodthirsty, unfeeling villain.

He was even being told to “settle down and keep a low profile.”