Chapter 86: Father and Son Reunited

"Fifteen Li Stage?!"

Li Wushuang’s pupils contracted in shock, her mind reeling, stunned into silence. Her entire body was utterly immobilized, pinned down by an invisible force—so completely bound she couldn’t even roll over.

This was pure, overwhelming dominance on the cultivation realm level.

"Damn you, let me go!" she screamed, fury burning in her voice.

"Your brother said the same thing," Li Hao replied coldly.

Yesterday, Li Wushuang had been seething with suppressed rage—but she hadn’t known Li Hao was no saint either. Seeing her still spitting venom, he unleashed another dozen sharp, stinging slaps across her face.

Had it not been for the subtle application of Object Manipulation Force holding her upright, those blows alone would’ve cracked the earth beneath her.

But for a Divine Travel Realm cultivator like Li Wushuang, it was merely excruciating. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached, tears welling up in her eyes, her face flushed with pain and humiliation.

"You—let me go!" she struggled, her spirit soul bursting from her body in a desperate attempt to break free.

But Li Hao’s spirit soul lashed out instantly, slamming it back into her body with brutal precision—completely suppressing her.

"Still not convinced?"

"You bastard!"

Another barrage of slaps followed.

Then—soft, choked sobs began to rise from beneath his hands.

Li Hao paused, frowning. He glanced down—and froze.

The sky-born beauty who had returned to the mansion just yesterday, once so composed and aloof, now had red-rimmed eyes, tears like pearls streaming down her cheeks. She was crying.

All that icy elegance, that serene grace—gone. Like a celestial being stepping from the mist, she had stumbled and fallen into the dust of the mortal realm.

Li Hao stopped. He didn’t raise his hand again.

"Are you ready to submit?" he asked, voice calm, detached.

Li Wushuang lay sprawled across the horse’s back, lips clenched, stubbornly silent—but fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.

Li Hao ignored her defiance. A cold smirk curled on his lips.

"Cousin Sister… if you don’t yield, I can promise you—I’ll strip you bare, seal your cultivation, and hang you from a tree branch."

"!!!"

Li Wushuang shot upright, eyes wide with horror, staring at him as if seeing a monster.

That… that’s something a human wouldn’t say!

I’m your cousin sister!

Beside them, Li Yuanzhao blinked—then, for a fleeting moment, his eyes flickered with sudden, quiet excitement.

(((o(▽)o)))

Li Hao had no intention of touching her in any improper way—this was pure intimidation. His tone remained icy.

"I’ll count to three."

"You—dare!" Li Wushuang paled, trembling with rage and fear.

"Two."

"You—!"

"One!"

"I—I yield!" she blurted out, panic rising. She didn’t know this cousin—this boy two years her junior—was so unpredictable. A strange dread had taken root in her chest.

Li Hao had expected this. He smirked coldly. No matter how gifted her natural talent, she was still just a sixteen-year-old girl. This method was simple, effective, and utterly reliable.

With a casual flick of his hand, he tossed her aside.

No more Object Manipulation Force.

Li Wushuang felt her body regain movement instantly. She twisted midair, landed gracefully, and brushed the tears from her face in one fluid motion. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she spun around, eyes blazing with fury.

"Cousin Sister," Li Hao said, seated atop his Crimson Blood Horse, looking down at her with calm, unbothered superiority, "don’t even think about reporting this. And don’t come near me again. If you do, I’ll make good on my promise next time."

Li Wushuang clenched her teeth. Even after training under the Qianji Sect, she had never endured such humiliation. Never been so thoroughly defeated.

But worse—this boy, only two years younger than her, had already reached the Fifteen Li Stage?

Higher realm than her? That was impossible!

Her brother had said he’d been born with a Warrior’s Wasteland Constitution, only beginning cultivation at eight or nine. How could he have advanced so fast in just a few years?

Her mind was a storm. This day had felt like a nightmare—unreal, unbelievable.

"Cousin Sister," Li Yuanzhao said gently, watching her hunch forward, visibly in pain, "it’s true. Li Yun provoked Hao first. You had no right. And you can’t beat him."

He meant well. He felt a pang of sympathy.

Just yesterday, he’d been filled with admiration for her—after all, the rumors had painted her as a prodigy, a disciple of a great master.

Li Wushuang glared at the little round-faced boy. "Don’t you dare lecture me!"

Li Yuanzhao fell silent. He’d only been trying to help—why did it sound like mockery?

But seeing her rage, he wisely held his tongue. She was like a wounded beast—any touch would provoke another storm.

"So you’ve been hiding it all along," Li Wushuang seethed, glaring at Li Hao. "Did Second Uncle personally train you?"

"Mind your own business," Li Hao snapped, voice sharp. "Today it was me. If it were someone else? You’d be dead already."

Li Wushuang’s face twisted in fury. She’d returned to reclaim her birthright—the True Dragon title.

At the family banquet yesterday, she’d already made quiet contact with the Second Lady. Among the third generation, the only real contenders were herself and Li Qianfeng.

She’d already decided—like an ancient ancestor—she would never marry. She would take the mantle of the Li Clan, rule it, forever.

And now? She’d been beaten senseless by her own cousin.

"Leave me alone. I don’t have time for you."

Li Hao glanced at her, then gently tugged the reins. His Crimson Blood Horse stepped forward, gliding past her with effortless grace.

"You!" Li Wushuang trembled with rage, fists clenched. She wanted to attack—but held back.

She had countless combat scriptures. The secret techniques of the Qianji Sect.

But what good were they against a cultivation realm so far above her?

Just the control of objects—enough to paralyze her. No skill could overcome such a gap.

Only when she herself reached the Fifteen Li Stage would she stand a chance—would she be able to face him on equal ground.

She watched the two figures riding away, her heart burning with fury.

Then—something struck her.

He was only fourteen. And yet—Fifteen Li Stage.

That… broke Ninth Uncle’s record.

Her pupils widened. A thunderclap seemed to split her mind.

The invincible figure she’d once looked up to—someone she’d admired since childhood—had been surpassed?

She stood frozen, stunned.

Then—sharp, fiery pain shot through her rear.

She instinctively reached back, her fingers brushing against damp fabric.

She glanced down. A faint trickle of blood seeped through her skirt.

She bit her lower lip, a strange, unexplained ache blooming in her chest. Her eyes welled up again.

…

…

"Brother Hao," Li Yuanzhao said, once they were out of earshot, "wasn’t that a bit harsh?"

His small eyes had noticed the faint redness as they passed.

"Just a flesh wound," Li Hao replied, calm. "A little potion, and it’ll be fine in two days."

"He deserved it," he added. "Didn’t you see her at last night’s banquet? That arrogant, spoiled little brat. Fame at such a young age isn’t a blessing—it’s a curse. Everyone fawns over her. Any fool would’ve floated off their feet. She can’t see her own flaws."

"She learned skills from the Qianji Sect—but she’s been spoiled too long. Now’s the time to correct her. If she keeps this attitude, she’ll get crushed out there someday."

Li Yuanzhao blinked. He hadn’t thought that deeply.

But as he considered it, he realized—Li Hao was right.

A new respect stirred in his heart.

"Brother Hao," he said slowly, "you always talk and act like you’re from our parents’ generation."

Li Hao glanced at him.

Two lives. A soul older than his years. He truly did see these third-generation heirs as children—never equals.

It wasn’t arrogance. It was simply how he saw the world.

…

…

While Li Hao and Li Yuanzhao headed to Tan Palace Academy, the Divine General’s Residence suddenly erupted in chaos.

Li Wushuang had just slipped back into the mansion, changed into fresh clothes, and dug out an old healing powder she’d used as a child during training. She smeared it on her wounds, wrapped her body in soft cloth.

All the while, her anger toward Li Hao grew—yet, as she thought of his cultivation level, her emotions twisted into something complex.

She even began to realize—maybe she was in the wrong.

When she finished dressing, she heard the clamor outside.

Her heart leapt.

Had they found out about Li Hao’s cultivation?

But she hadn’t told anyone yet.

She stepped out of the side courtyard, asked a servant—only to learn it wasn’t Li Hao at all.

It was Xing Wuhou, returning from Yanbei.

…

The news of Xing Wuhou’s triumphant return had already shaken Qingzhou to its core.

In this land, the Li Clan stood as unmatched peerless royalty. Their immortal merits were known to every soul in Qingzhou City. Statues of them dotted the streets. Four martial temples had been built in their honor.

To ordinary folk in other cities, the Li Clan’s prestige might be distant. But in Qingzhou? It was woven into the very blood of the people.

Older generations remembered: Nine sons, six died in battle.

Not just words.

A legacy etched in blood.

And now—after fourteen years of war in Yanbei, Xing Wuhou had slain countless demons.

On the Demon-Slaying Merit Register, three thick, heavy ledgers had been filled.

When the triumphant army reached the thirty-li Imperial Road outside Qingzhou City, the news spread like wildfire.

The entire city erupted.

Old people rushed to greet them.

Market vendors abandoned their stalls, handing off their goods to family, then bringing food and drink to offer the returning heroes.

By the time the procession arrived, the road was packed with people—thousands strong.

Some even ran to the wrong gate.

At the East Gate, the crowd was dense—faces pressed against the roadside, eyes fixed on the horizon.

Then—there it was.

The war banner, flapping fiercely in the wind, rising above the emerald cypress trees at the end of the road.

A roar erupted from the crowd.

"Xing Wuhou’s Triumphant Return!"

"Divine General’s Residence, forever prosperous!"

"Xing Wuhou’s Triumphant Return!"

"Divine General’s Residence, forever prosperous!"

The cries rose like a wave—proof of the Li Clan’s unmatched prestige.

Even passing wanderers and merchants from outer cities stood stunned, jaws dropped.

When they learned the truth—after fourteen years of peace, one man had fought through hell in Yanbei, slaying demons by the hundreds—many were awed to silence.

The returning army wasn’t large. Only the original Fa Zi Ying Elite Guard Unit—those who had marched with Xing Wuhou.

Fourteen years ago, five hundred strong.

Now—fewer than a hundred remained.

Some missing arms. Others wrapped in gauze. A wounded army.

Yet—the war banner still flew, unbroken, defiant, proud.

Seeing them, some elders wept. They handed baskets of boiled eggs, cured meat—offered them freely.

The Li Clan was beloved. Their people felt safe.

To outsiders, this was unthinkable.

They’d seen victorious armies before—but always at a distance. That cold, lethal aura kept them from approaching.

But here? The soldiers and commoners were as close as fish and water.

…

…

Just as Li Hao arrived at Tan Palace Academy, Shen Yunqing came sprinting, breathless, her face flushed with excitement.

"Where have you been? Your father—Xing Wuhou—has returned!"

Her voice trembled with awe. In Qingzhou, how could anyone remain untouched by the Li Clan’s legacy?

Li Hao froze.

Parents… returned?

Fragments of memory surfaced—faint, distant. Fourteen years. Enough time to grow from an infant into a young man.

So much had faded.

He blinked, then recovered quickly.

"Thank you," he said, and without another word, he leapt into the sky, soaring forward with mastery of flight.

Shen Yunqing watched him vanish into the distance, eyes wide. Then, she chuckled, rubbing her chin.

"The True Dragon of this generation… truly surpasses the last."

Li Hao tore through the academy gates, raced down the mountain.

He kicked open the stable door, vaulted onto the Crimson Blood Horse he’d ridden that morning, and spurred forward.

The city streets rang with the crisp beat of hooves. A young rider, whip cracking, thundered down the road—people leaping aside.

When they saw the horse—familiar, crimson, magnificent—they relaxed.

Finally.

When Li Hao reached the Imperial Road outside the city at full speed, he saw it—

At the far end, banners fluttering in the wind.

A towering figure, seated atop a Jiao Shi, slowly approaching.

Li Hao pulled hard on the reins.

The horse reared, then landed with a thunderous thud.

One dragon. One horse. One father. One son.

Their eyes met.

At last.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end