Chapter Seventy-Four: Revealed

Chen Shifeng rose from his seat and walked at a measured pace into a secluded pavilion nestled within the Crocodile Sect’s compound.

“Ah, Master, you’re here so early!”

As soon as Chen Shifeng pushed open the door, several alluring women with seductive figures greeted him with delighted voices.

“Hahaha, I simply couldn’t wait to see you all!”

He wrapped one woman in his left arm, another in his right, while a third embraced him from behind.

“Master, what are you saying? Didn’t we just see you last night?”

One woman draped herself over him, slipping a delicate hand under his garment, her cheeks flushed, eyes brimming with tender affection.

“Yes, Master, you wore us out last night,” another woman said, gently brushing his face before pressing her crimson lips against his cheek.

A kiss left a red mark on Chen Shifeng’s face.

“Last night was hardly enough—if only I could have you every moment!”

With a hearty laugh, Chen Shifeng swept all the women into the pavilion.

“Does Master like us that much?”

Their coquettish laughter mingled with the peals of his merriment.

“Of course, you are my greatest delight!”

“Especially, I love your…”

“Heh!”

The door thudded shut.

Immediately, the room filled with the ragged breaths of men and women.

Two hours later.

Behind sheer veils and gauzy curtains, Chen Shifeng reclined against a large sandalwood bed, his robe draped over his shoulders, exposing his dark chest. Two women in thin attire knelt at his feet, massaging them. Another woman, completely unclothed, leaned against him, feeding him grapes one by one from a tray.

At the center of the room, a bronze incense burner released the intoxicating fragrance of three smoldering sticks, filling the air with a dizzying aroma.

“Master, you were so fierce just now. I wonder if I’ll conceive this time…”

The woman feeding him grapes whispered softly.

“Conceiving would be wonderful! I’m not afraid of having more children!”

Chen Shifeng, eyes seemingly closed in repose, was anything but docile.

“Yes, especially since the Eldest Young Master—”

Smack!

Chen Shifeng’s palm struck the woman who had just spoken, sending her sprawling to the floor.

“What did you say?”

He stared coldly at her, his words icy and deliberate, as blood welled from her swollen cheek.

“Ah!”

The two women massaging his feet shrieked in terror at the sight and immediately crawled trembling to the ground.

“Master, I was wrong! I shouldn’t have mentioned the Eldest Young Master…”

Thud!

A kick sent the first woman crashing into the wooden wall. She slid to the floor, lifeless, as blood pooled around her.

“Worthless fool! Can’t you keep your mouth shut?”

Chen Shifeng spat furiously at the corpse.

If there was anything troubling him lately, despite his string of successes, it was the disappearance of his son, Chen Youyuan.

Over decades of diligence, he had fathered many sons, but only Chen Youyuan possessed the talent to become a true martial expert and take up the future mantle of the Crocodile Sect. He had always cherished him as his successor.

But now, his most valued son had vanished without a trace during a mission. How could he not be both enraged and distressed?

Especially since most of his plans for the royal family hinged on his son. With Chen Youyuan gone, those ambitions were dashed.

He had sought answers from the Seventy-Three Gate, who told him Chen Youyuan was indeed dead—slain by none other than the notorious Poison Vajra, Li Ju, whose exploits had recently rocked the martial world.

Upon learning this, Chen Shifeng’s desire for vengeance cooled. Even with the backing of the Seventy-Three Gate and the Crocodile Sect’s rising prestige, he dared not seek revenge against Li Ju.

After all, according to the reports, Li Ju was at least a master on the verge of the Lesser Trinity Stage. Since the Demonic Sect appointed him as Grand Elder, many in the martial world speculated he was now the fourth Lesser Trinity master.

Nothing else could explain why the Demonic Sect—so fixated on strength—would elevate an outsider to such a rank, a position equal to the sect leader himself. This could only mean that Li Ju’s power rivaled even that of the Demonic Sect’s leader!

“The Poison Vajra is beyond my reach…”

“But that cripple Wang Lu…”

Hatred flared in Chen Shifeng’s eyes.

I cannot touch my son’s killer, but surely I can vent my wrath on the useless, crippled junior brother of the murderer!

“I’ll torment you mercilessly, to ease the hatred in my heart!”

His voice was cold as ice.

“And whom do you mean to torment?”

Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind him.

Chen Shifeng’s hair stood on end, and in a flash he sprang backward.

“Who’s there?!”

His anxious query echoed in the pavilion.

But Chen Shifeng would never receive an answer. In a blur of shadow, white and red viscous fluids splattered across the walls.

“So fragile…”

Li Ju looked down at Chen Shifeng’s twitching body, then kicked it aside.

“Aaah!”

The two women groveling on the floor looked up, and at the horrific sight, screamed and fled barefoot toward the door.

Li Ju stood motionless, watching the two disheveled women run out into the night.

“Will you not come out?”

He glanced toward a shadowed corner of the pavilion.

“Brother Li, your skill is truly impressive.”

A handsome man stepped from the shadows, holding a folding fan, a jade pendant at his waist, his manner humble and refined.

“Allow me to introduce myself—I am Meng He, current Lesser Lord of the Seventy-Three Gate.”

Meng He clasped his hands and bowed slightly to Li Ju.

“Lesser Lord Meng He?”

“I know you. You’re the one who crippled my senior brother Wang on Mount Songcui, aren’t you?”

Li Ju turned to Meng He, his tone calm and indifferent.