Volume One: A Youth Enters the World Chapter Eighteen: Waiting for the Right Moment to Take Revenge

When Fang Tian saw Chen Yufeng being carried away by those henchmen, he turned back to Zhou Xiaodie and said, “Alright, we can leave now.”

Zhou Xiaodie let out a soft sigh, then looked at the mess left behind by the fierce fight between Fang Tian and Chen Yufeng. She said to Fang Tian, “You’ve gotten yourself into trouble this time. The Chen family never lets a slight go unanswered—they’ll surely come after you for revenge. Still, thank you for stepping in for me, Brother Fang Tian.”

Fang Tian said nothing.

After a brief pause, Zhou Xiaodie continued, “But since Brother Fang Tian is now at our Zhou family’s residence, we will ensure your safety. Please don’t worry.”

Fang Tian understood that Zhou Xiaodie was concerned for him, so he didn’t say much more and instead prepared to help Zhou Quan leave the Springview Pavilion.

Just then, the innkeeper approached with a beaming smile, sidling up to Fang Tian. “Good sir, now that Young Master Chen has been knocked out by you, you see, our business is but a humble one. Earning a living isn’t easy, and since you are cultivators and we are mere mortals, we dare not offend you. But could you perhaps show some kindness? We’ve suffered quite a loss here.”

He gazed at Fang Tian, waiting to see his reaction. After all, if there was no compensation, there was nothing he could do, but it was still worth asking.

Without a word, Fang Tian took out a pouch of silver and tossed it to the innkeeper.

When the innkeeper caught the silver, his face broke into a wide grin. “Thank you, good sir! Thank you!”

Fang Tian did not look back, but helped Zhou Quan and Zhou Xiaodie out.

“Come back again next time!” the innkeeper called after them, his joy beyond words. Once he saw Fang Tian off, he hurried to the counter to count his silver.

On the quiet road deep into the night, Fang Tian walked along, supporting Zhou Quan and Zhou Xiaodie. Seeing that Fang Tian wasn’t inclined to speak, Zhou Xiaodie took the initiative. “Brother Fang Tian, your cultivation must be quite extraordinary.”

Fang Tian, lost in his own thoughts, looked up at her question and replied, “It’s alright. I’m currently at the second level of the Spirit Gathering realm. Why do you ask?”

Zhou Xiaodie laughed and said, “I saw how easily you subdued Chen Yufeng. I was just curious, after all, Chen Yufeng is a cultivator at the ninth level of the Spirit Leading realm, but he couldn’t even fight back before you. That proves you must be truly exceptional.”

Fang Tian felt a little awkward at Zhou Xiaodie’s apparent praise and could only reply modestly, “Xiaodie, you flatter me. I’m really not that impressive.”

“Not at all—you’re clearly quite formidable,” she insisted.

Fang Tian was at a loss for words at her praise, only managing a shy smile, looking a bit embarrassed.

Zhou Xiaodie found his bashfulness rather amusing and couldn’t help but giggle. Her laughter, like the tinkling of silver bells, rang in Fang Tian’s ears.

Fang Tian turned to look at her, curious as to why she was laughing again, since this wasn’t the first time.

They continued walking, with Zhou Quan in tow. At that moment, Zhou Quan, still somewhat dazed, suddenly shouted, “Another cup!” before falling silent again.

Fang Tian and Zhou Xiaodie exchanged glances at this sudden outburst, surprised for a moment, then burst out laughing together, continuing on their way, drawing ever closer to the Zhou family residence.

After a while, they reached the grand gates of the Zhou estate. The night watchman at the entrance, seeing his young mistress return with Fang Tian and Zhou Quan, hurried forward and greeted them respectfully.

“Greetings, Miss, and Lord Fang Tian.”

Zhou Xiaodie nodded, “Open the gate. Let us in.”

“Of course, Miss. Right away.” The watchman hurried to open the door for them. Fang Tian, supporting Zhou Quan, followed Zhou Xiaodie inside. After settling Zhou Quan, the two exchanged farewells and each returned to their own quarters.

Meanwhile, at the Chen family estate, several of Chen Yufeng’s followers knelt at the gate, scarcely daring to breathe. Chen Yufeng had been crippled in one arm by someone, and they had been utterly useless, leaving Chen Yufeng unconscious. As punishment, Chen Shikang had ordered them to kneel outside and not rise.

Inside, Chen Shikang looked at his son lying unconscious on the bed, his heart heavy with worry. By rights, a broken arm alone shouldn’t have left his son in such a state, but for some reason, he still hadn’t awoken.

Chen Shikang paced the room, restless and unsettled. After a moment, he called one of the kneeling men inside to question him. “Tell me exactly what happened—every detail. Leave out a single thing, and you will not be forgiven.”

Terrified, the man spilled out every detail of the incident.

Listening, Chen Shikang frowned deeply, lost in thought. “So you’re telling me this fellow who injured my son merely struck out casually and left him in such a state?”

“Yes, Clan Leader. Every word is true. The young master had no chance to fight back.”

Chen Shikang muttered to himself, “This person is not simple. He must already be in the Spirit Gathering realm—no wonder my son was helpless before him. But the triennial clan contest is almost upon us. I don’t know if my son will recover in time. If not, things may become difficult.”

At this, his gaze grew cold and sharp. With a snort, he said, “So what if you’re in the Spirit Gathering realm? To lay hands on my son—no matter who you are, whether you belong to the Zhou family or not—you will pay the price.”

He then summoned the rest of those kneeling outside and spoke sternly, “Listen well. From now on, you are to watch the Zhou residence day and night. The moment the one who hurt my son appears, report to me at once. Do you understand?”

They answered in unison, “Yes, Clan Leader!”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them. They understood and retreated, while Chen Shikang’s eyes were filled with paternal love as he gazed at Chen Yufeng.

While the Chen family plotted their revenge against Fang Tian, Fang Tian himself was engrossed in studying spirit arrays. Not having drunk much and with no trace of sleepiness, he sat at his table poring over “An Introduction to Spirit Arrays,” practicing the gestures as he read.

Had anyone looked closer, they would have seen he was working on a second-grade spirit array, eager to test his own limits. Twice he had failed to find his maximum capacity for inscribing array patterns—a persistent itch at the back of his mind, urging him to discover just how much he could achieve.

With that, he began to plan: he would go to the same open field as before and put his skills to the test, to see just how many patterns he could engrave.