Chapter Seven: The Nascent Soul High Cat

Jiang Pingchuan looked around. Apart from the corpse of a stray cat lying at his feet, there was nothing else. Ma Huifeng and Lu Jie exchanged glances, and it was clear from their expressions that they both believed Jiang Pingchuan was up to some mischief.

Ma Huifeng strode over, grabbed the little fellow, and lifted him into the air, glaring provocatively at the struggling Jiang Pingchuan. After picking him up, Ma Huifeng glanced at the ground, and upon seeing only the corpse of a stray cat, a look of disgust flashed across his face. He waved to Lu Jie behind him, who understood and walked over to the cat’s body, grasping its spine and heading toward the river.

“Jiang Pingchuan, Jiang Pingchuan, still denying your tricks? Now that you’ve fallen into my hands, as an old friend, I must give you a proper reception, heh heh.” With that, Ma Huifeng smacked Jiang Pingchuan on his little backside. Jiang Pingchuan stared wide-eyed at Ma Huifeng, then glanced anxiously at Lu Jie, who was carrying the dead cat toward the river.

“Ma Huifeng, aren’t you afraid my brother will come after you if he finds out?” Jiang Pingchuan retorted, pouting coldly.

It was only now that he realized he couldn’t wander about boldly without his brother at his side. Without strength to protect himself, he was vulnerable. Looking at the cat in Lu Jie’s grip, Jiang Pingchuan felt a wave of sadness for the first time. It was as though a heavy stone pressed upon him. He regretted not committing himself to cultivation. Inwardly, Jiang Pingchuan vowed that when he returned, he would devote himself to his studies and protect what must be protected.

“Jiang Pingchuan, are you a fool or did I not make myself clear? I told you, my cultivation is now on par with your brother’s. Don’t bring him up before me. Even if he’s a little stronger, he’d have to be here for it to matter. Today, you’re not getting away,” Ma Huifeng said, relishing the sensation of utter dominance as Jiang Pingchuan struggled in vain. He had suffered more than once at the hands of Jiang Yulong and Jiang Pingchuan. Now, having broken through to the First Stage of Qi Training, he wasn’t about to let this chance slip by.

For over ten years, Ma Huifeng had been unable to break past his physical limitations. Only days ago, thanks to his uncle, Luo Pu—Master of the Sword Sect—he’d been forcibly elevated to the First Stage of Qi Training. But this method utterly erased his potential, dooming him to remain at that stage forever.

Still, in the resource-scarce Yuanwu Continent, attaining even this level made him far stronger than most. The lack of resources meant that new disciples rarely broke through. This was why Ma Huifeng and Lu Jie considered themselves masters among men.

“Ma Huifeng, you can hit me, but let that cat go. It’s already dead—there’s no need to deny it even a proper burial. This has nothing to do with our quarrel,” Jiang Pingchuan said, giving up his struggle. He’d hoped his clothes would tear, allowing him to slip free, but today, his usually fragile attire proved stubbornly resilient. With a sigh, he resigned himself.

“Ha! Jiang Pingchuan, you’re barely keeping your own head above water and you’re worried about a dead stray cat? Mind your own business. I’ll make sure the cat stays in one piece—straight into the river for the fish to eat,” Ma Huifeng sneered, watching Lu Jie approach the river. Nothing pleased him more than acting against Jiang Pingchuan’s wishes.

The cat in Lu Jie’s grasp, hearing their conversation, opened its eyes and looked at the suspended Jiang Pingchuan. A flicker of gratitude passed through its feline gaze—he hadn’t expected that Jiang Pingchuan would still remember him in a moment of crisis. The cat’s brow glimmered faintly with a red, kingly mark.

Suddenly, Lu Jie felt a gust of wind. He looked down—no trace of the cat, only a rotten piece of wood in his hand. Startled, he tossed it aside and glanced at the river’s strange surface. As he turned to run to Ma Huifeng, a blow landed on his back and everything went black—he was sent flying.

“What happened, Lu Jie?” Ma Huifeng saw Lu Jie fly overhead, dazed. At that moment, Ma Huifeng hastily dropped Jiang Pingchuan and retreated. From above, a wild cat landed where he had just stood.

The cat’s paws struck the ground, raising clouds of dust. Its beastly eyes blazed red, and when it parted its jaws, two gleaming fangs flashed coldly. The creature before them was less a sickly stray and more a fierce tiger poised to strike. Jiang Pingchuan, watching the cat at his feet, seemed to see a spectral tiger’s shadow overlaying the feline form.

Ma Huifeng trembled in terror before the cat, holding his breath, unable to move. He told himself over and over that it was just a stray cat, but as a newly ascended Qi Training cultivator, he could see the illusory tiger’s shadow enveloping the cat.

The tiger’s eyes glowed with a bloody fire, its body taut, massive paws wreathed in black mist, the entire form bathed in raging flames. Ma Huifeng felt his cultivation utterly suppressed by the vision. Had he not broken through, he might not have been so terrified. To the uninitiated, it was only a cat; but to a cultivator like Ma Huifeng, the pressure of the tiger’s presence was overwhelming, offering not a sliver of resistance.

Ma Huifeng’s reddened eyes pleaded with the cat. With a cold, emotionless face, the cat’s fangs bared as it advanced upon him. Each step left fiery paw prints, the earth beneath charred to cinders.

Ma Huifeng collapsed, face ashen and lips parched. The tiger’s shadow stopped before him, sniffed the air, lips curling to reveal rows of saber teeth. The black-misted paw rose and swept through the air.

Whoosh!

From beneath the thick fur, five sharp blades flashed out. Jiang Pingchuan, standing beneath the willow, was startled. He saw the raised paw and understood that the tiger meant to kill.

“No!” Jiang Pingchuan summoned all his strength to shout, but he was half a beat too late.

A desperate scream echoed as the massive paw crashed down on Ma Huifeng’s chest. His pupils dilated in terror as he died, his chest pulverized to dust.

Ma Huifeng’s wide, protruding eyes marked the terror he felt at the moment of death. Jiang Pingchuan covered his eyes, unwilling to look, until he felt something brush past his feet. Opening them, he saw the cat reclining at the base of the willow, arms crossed, legs stretched out, shaking its body with a human air, gazing at him contentedly.

“Was it you who spoke just now?” Jiang Pingchuan crouched, gazing at the cat that had stolen his fried cake. His feelings were complicated—he knew this creature was no ordinary cat.

“Why kill Ma Huifeng? If you were going to kill, you should’ve finished off Lu Jie too. Otherwise, how will you keep it secret? So foolish,” Jiang Pingchuan said with disappointment, watching the cat nod in agreement. Noticing Lu Jie fleeing in the distance, Jiang Pingchuan’s heart sank. He was certain Ma Huifeng’s uncle would now target him, and he trudged toward the old road, head hanging.

“Stop!” A stern shout rang out behind him as he stepped forward. Jiang Pingchuan shuddered and turned to see a middle-aged man in white robes, a massive iron sword strapped to his back. His thick sword brows and cold features exuded a daunting pressure. This was Luo Pu, Master of the Sword Sect and Ma Huifeng’s uncle. Jiang Pingchuan cursed his luck—just what he’d feared had come to pass.

“Boy, tell me, did anyone suspicious appear here just now?” Luo Pu’s gaze was sharp. Jiang Pingchuan nodded, pointing toward Ma Huifeng’s corpse. Luo Pu approached warily.

When he saw his nephew’s body, Luo Pu’s eyes reddened, veins bulging on his forehead. He spun around, fixing Jiang Pingchuan with murderous intent. His cultivation aura erupted, and Jiang Pingchuan was sent flying, blood pouring from his seven orifices as he crashed to the ground.

Luo Pu advanced mercilessly toward the convulsing Jiang Pingchuan. The cat beneath the willow opened its eyes, scrambled up the tree, and its gaze burned with red fire, whiskers bristling, nose steaming, ready to pounce on Luo Pu.

“Luo Pu, why do you bully my disciple?” Just as the cat was about to leap, a flash of purple light forced Luo Pu back several steps. He steadied himself, eyes glued to the purple glow. Hong Wu, his light fading, appeared, glanced at Jiang Pingchuan’s bleeding body, and hurriedly cradled him, feeding him a pill and infusing him with violet energy before laying him gently under the willow. He turned, his aged face unable to conceal his fury.

“Luo Pu, are you courting death?” Hong Wu’s aura surged instantly to the late Nascent Soul stage. In the north of the Yuanwu Continent, Hong Wu’s strength was the highest known. Luo Pu sneered, his own aura flaring to the peak of the mid-Nascent Soul stage as he drew his iron sword, glaring at Hong Wu.

Though there was a gap between them, Luo Pu did not believe he was without a fighting chance. As the two faced off, another figure flew in, landing beside Luo Pu. His cultivation was at the early Nascent Soul stage, breath unsteady, likely having just broken through. This was Luo Bin, Luo Pu’s junior brother.

“Brother, did you find the source of the aura?” Luo Bin asked.

They had come because they sensed a Nascent Soul-level expert nearby, one whose energy differed from that of the Yuanwu Continent. They had come to see if the newcomer was friend or foe. Luo Pu, arriving first, had found Jiang Pingchuan beside Ma Huifeng’s corpse and had attacked him.

“No, but that brat Jiang Pingchuan killed Huifeng,” Luo Pu answered, pointing his sword at the unconscious Jiang Pingchuan beneath the willow. Luo Bin’s brows knitted as he formed seals, eyes fixed on Hong Wu.

“Luo Pu, unless you give me an explanation today, you two will pay with your lives,” Hong Wu said coldly, seeing the brothers preparing to attack.

“Master Hong, have you lost your mind? Your disciple killed my nephew, Ma Huifeng. I’m here for justice, and you dare speak so arrogantly?” Luo Pu brandished his sword, its blade gleaming coldly.

“You call me arrogant? I have every right to be,” Hong Wu retorted, unleashing a mighty palm strike toward Luo Pu and Luo Bin. Both men dodged, avoiding the full brunt of his power. They exchanged a glance and nodded.

“Hong Wu, take this!” Luo Pu shouted, swinging his sword at Hong Wu.

“Sword Dragon Return...”

“Great Yu Palm...”

As Luo Pu and Luo Bin attacked, the sky darkened and the air roared. The sounds of dragon cries, tiger roars, and surging waves assaulted Hong Wu. His purple robes billowed wildly in the tempest, yet he remained calm in the face of their onslaught.

“My friend, you’ve hidden long enough. If not now, when?” Hong Wu called, channeling his power into his palms, unleashing a world-shattering force to meet their attacks head-on.

With a thunderous roar, a skinny, pitch-black cat leaped from the willow, bellowing like a tiger and shaking loose rocks from the mountain. A primordial aura swept forth, shattering Luo Pu and Luo Bin’s attacks and sending both men stumbling back with muffled grunts.

“What is that...?”

“A cat—at the peak of mid-Nascent Soul...”

“A Nascent Soul cat...?”

“How can that be...?”

Luo Pu and Luo Bin stared in disbelief, unable to process the scene before them.