Chapter 93.4

Liu Yumei stood by the window, watching as sunlight pierced the clouds and the sky gradually cleared.

The tears she had held back for so long finally brimmed in her eyes.

But still, she forced herself not to let them fall.

Because she knew—no one in this world truly cared whether she cried or not.

In the past, when she was still the young lady of the Liu Clan, even a single teardrop would send her father and brothers rushing to her side, fussing over her in distress. That old rascal would even humiliate himself by performing all sorts of antics, casting aside his dignity as a young master of the Qin Clan, just to coax her into a smile.

They were all gone now.

And left her alone in this world.

She knew that those still in the jianghu feared her—but what they feared was no longer the former Dragon King Liu, nor the Dragon King Qin.

On the surface, they remained respectful—bowing when needed, kneeling when expected—but in their hearts? Likely full of silent ridicule.

Mocking her as a withered old woman clinging to the prestige of two great clans, refusing to let go of her pride.

But a plaque didn’t gain authority just by being polished to a shine.

A plaque had to be baptized in blood—fresh blood cleansing the old.

It didn’t matter if their kneeling was hollow.

When you lift your head, what I want to see in your eyes—is fear and dread.

I am the noble daughter of the Liu Clan. From the day I was born until I married, I never knew the meaning of the word “humiliation.”

And yet, over these past decades, you’ve made me swallow so much of it.

Come, all of you.

Take a good look at the gift I’m giving you.

“This jianghu—

Should drown in blood, just to ease my rage!”

…

The sky cleared. The rain stopped.

Next door, the old professor’s wife was cursing at the damned heavens for striking her television with lightning.

A TV was still a prized possession these days—and she even shouted out the model. It was a color TV.

Mid-rant, she suddenly changed course, screaming:

“Why didn’t you strike down that damned Shi Yuqing instead?!”

Shi Yuqing had been a student of the old professor in his youth. She’d just gotten divorced this year.

Meanwhile, in Li Zhuiyuan’s household, after a peaceful lunch, everyone returned to their respective tasks.

Ah Li was painting in the study. She began with the ritual room’s layout, then added everyone who had been present.

She saved the boy for last—like how other children ate cake: bread first, and the treasured frosting last.

Li Zhuiyuan sat nearby, watching her draw. Midway, he went out to fetch tea.

Normally, Aunt Liu would’ve brought it in herself. But today, she couldn’t.

Earlier in the afternoon, after teaching Yin Meng, she cooked a dish—one that left the entire ground floor filled with choking fumes.

In the end, Liu Yumei lost her temper and sent the two of them back to the off-campus house they’d stayed in before. That was where lessons would now continue.

Li Zhuiyuan had noticed something—Aunt Liu’s teaching was highly tailored. She’d somehow woven the principles of poison techniques into her cooking tips, using culinary methods to teach Yin Meng.

The result? Bound to be shockingly effective.

It also reminded Li Zhuiyuan to warn Runsheng later: whatever you do, never let Yin Meng near the kitchen again.

As for Runsheng—he was in agony.

Uncle Qin had taught him a set of martial techniques. Runsheng was now practicing them.

Earlier, while Li Zhuiyuan was still indoors, he could already hear the sounds of muscle and bone tearing from Runsheng’s training.

When he came outside, holding a kettle of hot water, what he saw was worse—Runsheng was bleeding from all seven orifices. Beads of sweat mixed with blood covered his entire body.

“Keep going,”

Uncle Qin ordered, then turned to Li Zhuiyuan and explained:

“I’m correcting his past mistakes. Rebuilding the foundation.”

“Mm.”

Li Zhuiyuan understood that Uncle Qin had misunderstood—perhaps thinking he’d feel sympathy at seeing such brutal training.

But in truth, Li Zhuiyuan didn’t feel sympathy at all. On the contrary, he appreciated how visibly effective the method was.

Uncle Qin pointed at Runsheng. “Back when we were at your uncle’s place, I already saw something in this kid. Too bad back then, I couldn’t even teach you.”

“Uncle Qin, can I ask you something?”

“Xiaoyuan, you want to ask how I failed on the jianghu back then, right?”

“Yes.”

“When the time comes, I’ll tell you. I’m not sentimental. But I am counting on you to avenge me against those bastards.”

“No, Uncle Qin—you misunderstood. I couldn’t care less about avenging you.” Li Zhuiyuan pointed at Runsheng. “You’d better pin your hopes on him.”

“Got it. Then I’ll train him—until it damn near kills him.”

Next Chapter >>>