Chapter 17: To Kill, or to Play the Fool?

“Hm?” Seeing this Senior Brother Mi’s overbearing attitude, Chu Feng was momentarily taken aback. He said, “Please don’t misunderstand, Senior Brother. Though I am of little renown, my inquiry into Miss Mu’s Six Veins Golden Needle is out of genuine goodwill! I simply hope that you might grant me this small favor and allow me to—”

“That’s enough. There’s no need to say more!” Senior Brother Mi cut him off sharply. “Ever since the Mu family of Heavenly Secrets put out word that they are seeking violet crystal flowers across the martial world, countless so-called experts and recluses have come knocking—hoping for nothing more than to swindle a bit of silver! Let me tell you, you won’t find it so easy to trick money out of the Mu family! Wherever you came from, go right back there! If you keep pestering here, I, Mi Xin Jian, won’t be so polite with you!”

Seeing Mi Xin Jian’s stern expression, Chu Feng truly felt the matter had become troublesome. A thought struck him—was this fellow merely angling for a bribe? The man had just explicitly mentioned silver! In great clans such as this, it was not uncommon for gatekeepers to expect a little silver from those seeking an audience. Chu Feng silently chided himself for overlooking such a simple matter.

“Senior Brother Mi, I have long admired your reputation. I came in haste and have not prepared a proper gift, but here is a token of my respect. I hope you will accept it with a smile.” Chu Feng spoke amiably as he slipped two gold ingots into Mi Xin Jian’s hand.

Two gold ingots—hardly a fortune, but not a paltry sum either. Two hundred silver taels: enough to spend a day at a small market. At the sight of the glittering gold, Mi Xin Jian’s face grew cold. He barked, “What’s this? You’re trying to bribe me? Who wants your filthy money!”

Even as he spoke, Mi Xin Jian’s palm struck out in a swift, knife-edged chop toward Chu Feng’s arm. Startled, Chu Feng hadn’t imagined the man would not only refuse the silver but attack outright. He stepped back in alarm, quick but not quite quick enough. Mi Xin Jian’s palm was quicker still.

A sharp crack rang out as the edge of Mi Xin Jian’s hand struck Chu Feng’s arm. Pain shot through Chu Feng’s hand; one gold ingot flew from his grasp, while he held tight to the other. Though the attack was unexpected, Mi Xin Jian’s skill was evident in how far he sent the ingot flying. Yet the one Chu Feng clung to bore five fresh indentations from his grip—a testament to his own strength.

“This Mi Xin Jian, sword at his hip and brimming with menace, must be a third-stage External Strength practitioner in the Body Refining realm, and a swordsman at that,” thought Chu Feng, taking a step back, his blood and energy roiling, but his mind already calculating.

“What? Still standing? You have some skill for a martial artist,” Mi Xin Jian said, surprised to see Chu Feng upright, not sent sprawling or sent flying. Chu Feng, hearing the man’s dismissive tone, said nothing in retort; he simply clenched his fists, his mind already clear—this opportunity at the Mu family of Heavenly Secrets would not be so easily grasped. Even the very first threshold was a challenge. As for the blow he’d just received from Mi Xin Jian, that was a debt he would repay in full.

Ever since consuming the flesh and gall of the Golden Python, Chu Feng’s body had transformed, his temperament too, now carrying the domineering, vengeful spirit of a jungle king—grudges would never go unavenged.

He memorized the name “Mu Family’s Mi Xin Jian,” glared at the man, picked up the gold ingot knocked away, and turned to leave.

“Trying to leave? Not so fast!” Mi Xin Jian suddenly shouted, darting forward to block his path.

“What do you want?” Chu Feng stopped, his voice low and steady.

“Nothing much. I just want you to understand—the Mu family is not a marketplace you can come and go from at will.” Mi Xin Jian’s face was cold, his tone harsh. “Earlier, you said you wished to inquire about Miss Mu’s Six Veins Golden Needle. For what purpose? Speak!”

“Hmph!” Chu Feng gave a cold laugh. “A moment ago you urged me to leave, now you bar my way? I offered you gold ingots to trouble you for an introduction, out of respect. Yet you attack me without a word—this is the Mu family’s way of receiving guests?”

“Ha! What a joke. The Mu family’s hospitality is nothing like this. But who said you were a guest of the Mu family?” Mi Xin Jian sneered, then suddenly grew stern. “If you don’t make your intentions clear, don’t even think of leaving!”

“Oh? So you intend to bully me by virtue of your position?” Chu Feng retorted coldly.

Moments ago, Mi Xin Jian had struck first; Chu Feng had swallowed the slight, not out of fear, but because he was at the Mu family’s gate—a scene would do him no good here. He hadn’t expected Mi Xin Jian to be so persistent, refusing even to let him leave peacefully.

“Boy, don’t try to browbeat me! If I, Mi Xin Jian, truly wished to oppress you, do you think you’d still be standing here arguing with me?” Mi Xin Jian said with contempt.

Seeing this, Chu Feng realized he’d run into a tyrannical lackey of a powerful clan—there would be no easy way out.

“So, I have only two choices. One: strike him down in anger and leave at once. Two: swallow my pride, apologize, and play the humble worm.”

Chu Feng stared at Mi Xin Jian’s arrogant face, calculations flashing through his mind. Killing Mi Xin Jian would be simple enough—the concealed weapon in his hand could blast the man’s skull open in an instant; with the Red Wind Boots on his feet, he could make a swift escape and reconsider his plans.

But to avoid killing would mean bowing his head, groveling for mercy—a role he’d played far too often in the past, enduring endless hardship and humiliation at the hands of others due to his lack of strength. Now that he possessed martial prowess and a weapon capable of instant lethality, as well as a possible escape route, could he really stoop so low again?

Absolutely not!

“Boy, what are you staring at? If you’re dissatisfied, I don’t mind sparring with you!” Mi Xin Jian declared imperiously. “Speak! What is your purpose in coming uninvited to the Mu family to inquire about the Six Veins Golden Needle?”

“Out of my way,” Chu Feng replied, his gaze unwavering.

“And if I refuse?” Mi Xin Jian’s voice was sharp, his demeanor fierce.

Anger burned within Chu Feng. His little finger covertly pressed the end of the concealed weapon in his hand, its deadly tip already aimed at Mi Xin Jian’s head.