https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-190-Another-Powerful-Secret-Weapon-Zheng-Jia-s-Ancestor/13688364/
Chapter 191: Fury, Vengeance, and Living Sacrifice
“In the name of Yu Er, speak! Where did he die? How did he die? Tell me everything—exactly as it happened. Or I’ll send every one of you down to join him in death!”
Inside the Zheng Family’s ancestral hall, the old woman radiated an icy, suffocating aura. Her gaze, cold and merciless, pinned the kneeling guards.
Her lips, wrinkled like ancient tree bark, spat out each word with chilling precision.
Though the guards trembled with dread, they stammered out what they knew.
“The second young master’s body was found at a remote mountain fortress called Yuan Yang Zhai. Yesterday, we accompanied him outside the city walls. When we reached the base of the mountain, he gave us a pretext to wait below, sending us to stay behind. He only took Yang Tong Ling with him into the fortress.”
“The place, Yuan Yang Zhai, was a pleasure den—a brothel known for indulgence and debauchery…”
The guard faltered.
“Lies!” the old woman suddenly roared. “Yu Er was always so gentle, so well-behaved. How could he ever go to such a filthy place!”
The guard froze, his body collapsing forward in terror, shaking uncontrollably.
“Mother,” Zheng Jia Zhu murmured softly.
The old woman snorted coldly. “Continue.”
“Yes, Ancestor.”
The guard shuddered, choosing his words with trembling care.
“After the second young master entered, we didn’t wait long before hearing chaos erupt from above—the screams, the shouts, the crashing. People were fleeing the fortress in panic. We sensed danger and rushed up, but when we arrived, we found the place littered with corpses. Everyone—dead. All of them were martial artists, high-level warriors. Even the second young master and Yang Tong Ling… they were both dead.”
“Yang Tong Ling’s iron shield was shattered by a single palm strike. His bones were completely broken, his forehead pierced through.”
The guard’s voice cracked. Yang Tong Ling had been a Nei Fu Jing cultivator at the peak of his small realm, a master of sword and shield. Even a full Nei Fu Jing cultivator would have struggled to defeat him. And yet, he had been reduced to nothing—shield destroyed, life extinguished. Whoever had done this… must have been beyond terrifying.
“So,” the old woman said, her tone dangerously calm, “you were supposed to protect Yu Er… yet you didn’t even see the killer?”
The guards’ hearts froze.
“Ancestor, we may not have caught the murderer,” one stammered, “but after discovering the second young master’s body, we immediately captured several people trying to flee. We interrogated them. From their testimony, we learned the killer was a black-clad man wearing the garb of a Night Traveler—fierce, swift, like a ghost. He slaughtered everyone in Yuan Yang Zhai single-handedly.”
“Even more crucial,” the guard added, “some of the guests claimed the man said outright: Yuan Yang Zhai was actually a base for Qi Sha Lou. His massacre was an act of revenge against Qi Sha Lou. That’s why he spared the guests.”
“What?” Zheng Jia Zhu shot up, his voice sharp with shock. “Qi Sha Lou? Are you certain you didn’t mishear?”
Even the old woman stiffened, her eyes narrowing, a flash of sharp intent flickering within.
“By my life, Ancestor,” the guard insisted, “we questioned over ten people. All said the same thing!”
“Qi Sha Lou has planted a base here?” Zheng Jia Zhu’s expression darkened. The Qi Sha Lou—the most feared sect in the assassin world—had long held dominion over Zhong Zhou. When had they turned their attention to this remote, insignificant province of Cang Zhou?
And even more shocking—someone had dared challenge Qi Sha Lou openly, destroying one of their strongholds with such boldness.
Who was this person? What was their motive?
Zheng Jia Zhu’s instincts screamed of something deeply unnatural.
The old woman’s mind churned with suspicion, but none of it could match the agony of losing her grandson.
“So you claim the killer’s target was Qi Sha Lou,” she hissed, her eyes burning. “Then why did he kill my Yu Er?”
Her gaze locked onto the guard, icy and piercing.
“Tell me, what’s going on? Are you lying?”
“Ancestor, I swear on my soul, every word is true! I would never dare deceive you!” the guard cried, his voice cracking with fear.
“Then explain—why did he kill Yu Er? Wasn’t he just a guest?”
“Because… because…”
The guard stammered, unable to speak.
“Because what? Speak! Or I’ll crush you where you stand!”
“From a guest’s account,” the guard finally whispered, “he was hiding in a corner of the upper room when the killing happened. He heard the black-clad man say… that he killed the second young master to avenge the women of the entertainment district—girls who had been raped and tortured by the second young master, and had died because of it.”
“Filth!” The old woman’s restraint shattered.
Her iron-headed cane lashed out with sudden, brutal force, slamming into the guard’s chest.
The impact was catastrophic. The man had no chance to defend himself. Bones cracked. His body flew backward, spewing blood mid-air, then crashed hard onto the stone floor.
His chest caved in. He was already dead.
“Those prostitutes—filthy, worthless whores—how could they possibly compare to my Yu Er? Even a thousand, a hundred thousand of them wouldn’t be worth a single hair on his head!”
Her voice rose to a scream of fury.
“Wretched wretch! How dare you insult my Yu Er, insult our Zheng family! No matter who you are—I will find you. I will drag you down to hell, break you piece by piece, and scatter your remains to the winds!”
After hurling the guard aside, the old woman’s rage showed no sign of abating. Her face was twisted with venomous hatred, every word carved with malice.
The oppressive aura radiating from her wasn’t just suffocating—it spilled beyond the hall, shaking the very air outside, startling those in the courtyard.
Seeing the Ancestor’s wrath, the remaining guards trembled violently, their legs giving way. They could barely stay on their knees.
But the old woman wasn’t done.
“You others!” she barked. “You were entrusted with protecting Yu Er—yet you abandoned your posts. You’re all dead. And your families? They’ll die too. They’ll join him in the afterlife.”
The guards screamed in terror, scrambling to plead for mercy.
But the old woman’s cane moved like lightning—each strike landing precisely on the heart meridian of each kneeling guard.
One by one, their bodies spasmed. Their eyes glazed over. Then they collapsed, lifeless, their faces frozen in terror.
Blood seeped into the floor, the scent thick and cloying.
The entire hall fell silent. The remaining servants turned pale, their faces drained of color.
After a long moment, Zheng Jia Zhu stepped forward, gently supporting his mother.
“Mother… people can’t come back. You’re unwell. You must take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry,” she said coldly. “I’m not dead yet. Send for the finest coffin. I’ll see to Yu Er’s body myself. And these failures—those who failed to protect him—they’re already dead. It’s a mercy. Bring their families here. I’ll have them all buried with him.”
“Mother!” Zheng Jia Zhu gasped. “Living sacrifice is forbidden! The Imperial Court, the Sheng Shan Sect—they’ve all outlawed it!”
“Hmph,” she sneered. “Who said I was doing a living sacrifice? If they’re dead before burial, it’s not a living sacrifice, is it? Yu Er suffered so much. He lost his father at a young age. What will he face down there, all alone? Isn’t it only right that I send more souls to serve him?”
“But mother—”
Zheng Jia Zhu tried to argue.
Then he met her eyes.
The cold, unyielding stare silenced him.
“Are you suggesting,” she said slowly, “that because your elder brother died young, no one else will stand up for Yu Er? That you’d defy my command?”
Zheng Jia Zhu’s heart sank.
He bowed his head. “I… I have no right to disobey. I’ll carry out your wishes, Mother.”
(End of Chapter)
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