Chapter Ninety-One: Patricide and the Defilement of His Sister-in-Law

Jiang Pingchuan did not notice that Lord Gong, behind him, was coughing blood. Lord Gong was gravely wounded, yet he refused to tell Jiang Pingchuan. In his heart, there were two reasons.

First, he was an elder, Jiang Pingchuan’s senior, and he could not bring himself to admit that he was injured. Second, he knew that with Jiang Pingchuan’s temperament, if he learned that Lord Gong was badly hurt, he would put off everything else and tend to him first.

But matters were still far from over. It was plain to see that although Jiang Pingchuan could effortlessly crush those cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage, every strike he made was essentially his full strength.

This sort of fighting was effective enough, but it consumed his true qi at an alarming rate. Lord Gong clutched his chest and hurried after Jiang Pingchuan, his fingers constantly rubbing his prayer beads in an effort to ease the pain in his body.

By the time Jiang Pingchuan stepped into the main hall, he had already heard the cries from the second wave. His own men were only one final group away from being fully inside the city lord’s manor. And the moment Jiang Pingchuan entered the hall, all he saw was a pool of blood.

A pale middle-aged man sat in a chair, holding a teacup and steadily blowing on the rising steam. His hand would not stop trembling. Seeing the wound in the man’s abdomen, Jiang Pingchuan also noticed Han Qing leaning against a pillar.

Han Qing was even more badly injured than the middle-aged man. When he saw Jiang Pingchuan and Lord Gong enter the main hall, his expression flickered with surprise and a trace of tension. He had not expected Jiang Pingchuan to come.

He had not sensed Jiang Pingchuan’s presence during the fighting outside. Only now, seeing him in person, did Han Qing finally understand how completely he had underestimated him.

The fact that someone had even made it a family tradition to save Jiang Pingchuan once meant, to Han Qing, that they had not been raising a benefactor at all, but building themselves a shield.

Han Zhen, seated in the chair, looked at Jiang Pingchuan, then at Lord Gong standing beside him, drenched in blood, and understood many things at last.

A few light claps rang out.

“What an exceptional young talent indeed...”

Han Zhen set down the teacup in his hand, rose to his feet, and applauded with a chuckle. But as soon as he finished speaking, he clutched his chest and broke into a violent fit of coughing. Seeing this, Lord Gong hurriedly coughed as well.

That way, Han Zhen’s coughing could cover his own.

He had only coughed twice when Jiang Pingchuan suddenly seized his wrist. At once, Lord Gong felt a peculiar stream of true qi being infused into his body by Jiang Pingchuan.

He had never heard of such a thing before, but he knew this was exactly what made Jiang Pingchuan so unusual. His body recovered rapidly, and when he felt nearly restored, he took the initiative to pull away Jiang Pingchuan’s hand.

From start to finish, Jiang Pingchuan did not spare Lord Gong so much as a glance. The moment Lord Gong withdrew his hand, Jiang Pingchuan strode forward expressionlessly toward Han Zhen.

“Pingchuan, be careful.”

As he passed Han Qing, who was leaning against the pillar, Han Qing weakly forced the words out. Jiang Pingchuan nodded and glanced at him. But when he turned back, his throat was already gripped tightly in Han Zhen’s hand.

Jiang Pingchuan did not strike back. He merely watched Han Zhen, whose face was cold and who was baring his teeth in a savage grin as he tightened his grip. Han Qing and Lord Gong were both stunned.

Han Qing did not know Jiang Pingchuan’s true strength. Yet no matter what, he could not have been taken down so easily by Han Zhen. What shocked Lord Gong even more was that he had witnessed Jiang Pingchuan’s power firsthand. Let alone one Han Zhen, even five more of them would probably not be enough to withstand a single punch from Jiang Pingchuan.

And yet the truth lay right before his eyes. Jiang Pingchuan had walked toward Han Zhen with such imposing momentum, only to be subdued by a single move.

Lord Gong even wondered if he was seeing things, if he had mistaken Han Zhen for Jiang Pingchuan. In his mind, it should have been Jiang Pingchuan casually seizing Han Zhen by the throat.

“Heh. I really overestimated you.”

Han Zhen looked at Jiang Pingchuan in his grasp, then at Han Qing by the pillar, and shook his head mockingly. But when his gaze fell on Lord Gong, covered in blood, his brow furrowed.

“I overestimated Jiang Pingchuan, but I underestimated you, Lord Gong. You are truly vigorous for your age. Facing five Foundation Establishment cultivators and still managing to reach me.”

Han Zhen said this with some surprise. He had thought his five powerful subordinates were all killed by Jiang Pingchuan, but from the look of things now, Jiang Pingchuan surviving until this moment was itself a miracle.

He could crush Jiang Pingchuan’s life in his hand without even lifting a finger. It was Lord Gong who had made him misjudge matters; he had never imagined that an old man close to death could still be as fierce as he had been in his youth.

“If you say I am vigorous for my age, old man, I can accept that. If you say my blade is still sharp, I can accept that too. But if you say you overestimated Jiang Pingchuan, then I absolutely cannot agree.”

Lord Gong looked at Han Zhen with deep regret.

Han Zhen, however, looked unconcerned as he met Lord Gong’s sorrowful gaze. He had never underestimated Jiang Pingchuan. But now that he had seen the real man, the Jiang Pingchuan he held in his grasp felt like nothing more than four words:

So-so.

“You say I underestimated...”

“You are too foolish, Han Zhen. You have never been able to deal with anyone objectively. You always think you are the one in the right.”

Han Qing, leaning against the pillar, suddenly interrupted Han Zhen and said with heavy emphasis, “My foolish brother, you have never been able to put aside that arrogant posture of yours and truly see another person.”

“Foolish? Han Qing, my dear brother, am I foolish? I killed Father and planted the blame on you without a single flaw. I slept with our sister-in-law, and she did not dare tell you. I can force you out of power with ease and have enjoyed myself as city lord for more than twenty years. Tell me, am I foolish?”

Han Zhen grinned maliciously at Han Qing, whose face had gone deathly pale against the pillar. Hearing Han Zhen’s words, Han Qing’s expression darkened. His lips trembled, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood before giving Han Zhen a bitter smile.

It was too late for anything now.

“Han Zhen, if you are not foolish, then why is the Jiang Pingchuan in your hand still so calm? Not the slightest flush, not a trace of strain. Is it because you lack strength, because you cannot hurt him, or because the one you are holding at all is not him?”

After hearing what Han Zhen had said to Han Qing, Lord Gong raised his voice sharply. He had not expected this wretched city lord to have done so many utterly shameless things.

“You are spouting nonsense...”

“Ugh... mmph...”

“I wanted to play a little longer, but I did not expect you, old man, to be the quickest-tongued.”

Han Zhen was just about to retort when the hand that had been gripping Jiang Pingchuan by the throat suddenly lost all support. It curled into a fist, and Jiang Pingchuan, who should have been standing directly in front of him, vanished without a trace.

While Han Zhen was still reeling in shock, Jiang Pingchuan’s calm voice came from behind him. Han Zhen jerked around. Jiang Pingchuan’s foot slammed into his abdomen and sent him flying, where he crashed hard to the ground.

Han Zhen’s abdomen had already been injured by Han Qing during their earlier struggle. Now, with Jiang Pingchuan’s kick added to it, his entire body convulsed as though it had turned upside down. He lay curled on the ground, spewing blood uncontrollably, his mouth muttering incoherently. Lord Gong cast a sorrowful glance at Han Zhen sprawled on the floor.

“Your younger brother truly is ruthless. He murdered his father, violated his sister-in-law, and even tried to force you to your death. You handle this yourself.”

Jiang Pingchuan looked at Han Qing, who was leaning against the pillar and clearly still seething from Han Zhen’s words. Han Qing nodded, bowed with difficulty toward Jiang Pingchuan, and walked toward Han Zhen on the floor.

In Han Qing’s eyes, there was no trace of the old gentleness Jiang Pingchuan had once seen. His hatred for Han Zhen had long since reached the marrow of his bones. He could no longer tolerate his younger brother going on like this.

“Han Zhen, I know everything you have done over the years. I have been running from it all, running from everything you have brought into my life. I only wanted a simple, peaceful existence. But you should never have set your sights on You Liang.”

Han Qing crouched beside Han Zhen and spoke in a hoarse voice, choking on tears.

Han Zhen laughed and looked at Han Qing with bloodshot eyes.

“Heh. When my son died, you stood by and did nothing. Why should your son be allowed to live happily? I want him to go keep Ming’er company first. Hahaha... cough cough cough...”

Han Zhen laughed wildly, thrusting a trembling finger at Han Qing and shouting. When his son Han Ming died, he had believed Han Qing could clearly have saved him, yet Han Qing had not lifted a hand. In Han Zhen’s mind, the murderer who had caused Han Ming’s death was Han Qing.

“I could not save him.”

Han Qing said darkly, then seized the finger Han Zhen had thrust out and snapped it cleanly.

Han Zhen let out a miserable howl and shuddered all over, glaring at Han Qing with blood-red eyes.

“I did not save Han Ming. Anyone can condemn me for that. You cannot.”

Han Qing’s voice was grim. Of all people here, Han Zhen had the least right to accuse him. Han Zhen had killed their father, defiled his wife, and now wanted to kill his son. All of this had forced Han Qing to the point where he could no longer help but feel murderous toward his own younger brother.

“Heh. If that is the case, then wanting to kill your son should be perfectly natural too, shouldn’t it? I’m afraid that boy still does not know that his real father is you.”

Han Zhen lifted his head and roared in a hoarse voice. He believed he had suffered far more than Han Qing. Jiang Pingchuan and Lord Gong watched the two brothers before them, their emotions tangled and heavy. Their relationship was far too twisted.

One was hopelessly obstinate, the other too rigidly proper. The honest man was schemed against, while the clever man was doomed to pay a price.

That was fate. It was unfair, yet sometimes, it was fair indeed.