Chapter Thirty-Two: Flattening Your Face

This year’s Soul Awakening Day had come to an abrupt halt. There was no choice but to stop, for first Qin Pang made trouble, and then Qin Feng, that aberrant, absorbed every last bit of energy from the Ancestral Dragon Blood Pool. With nothing left, how could any soul be awakened?

Qin Feng’s body suffered no major harm; it was just that the depletion of his bloodline power had left him exhausted and unconscious. Not long after, he awoke, only to find himself being carried by a group of attendants to a place set aside for rest.

As he was borne through the crowd, Qin Feng saw the many gazes cast his way—each mixed with its own brew of emotions. He was no fool; he realized instantly that, without meaning to, he had made himself an enemy of many.

The disciples of the main family had always regarded him with disdain. He nearly soared to glory, only to fall back down, and most of them were secretly delighted, eager to see him fail. As for the branch family disciples, they had no feud with Qin Feng, but his awakening of the bloodline soul had inadvertently consumed all the resources meant for everyone. Most of them now had no idea how long they’d have to wait for another chance to awaken their souls. The best age for a Qin family child to awaken the bloodline soul was eighteen; every day’s delay thinned the bloodline further, and naturally none of them were willing.

Though the City Lord of Tianfeng City promised to plead for another drop of Ancestral Dragon blood on their journey to the Ancient Tribe Domain, the branch disciples remained dissatisfied, and their glances at Qin Feng were anything but friendly.

Even those powerful elders who had assisted Qin Feng with his blood ritual were only magnanimous on the surface. They respected strength, but Qin Feng, now devoid of his divine-grade dragon soul, was a fallen phoenix—hardly worth their attention, and their attitude toward weakness was inevitably contemptuous.

In this way, Qin Feng had managed to offend nearly the entire Qin family of Tianfeng City and even the broader Yunqi Nation.

As for the Ancient Tribe Domain, Qin Feng had no interest whatsoever. He knew his own body best. The strange illness within him could devour even a divine-grade dragon soul. The so-called elders of the Ancient Tribe Domain at most possessed heavenly-grade dragon souls, but in the eyes of the illness, they were barely worth considering.

More importantly, Qin Feng had always harbored a deep aversion to the Ancient Tribe Domain since childhood, a loathing rooted in the depths of his heart.

Though his thoughts ran thus, some matters were beyond his control. With Qin Dingtian’s intervention, his trip to the Ancient Tribe Domain was unavoidable.

Silently, Qin Feng resolved that upon his return, he would quickly decide whether to stay or to leave. He knew what it meant to possess a worthless dead soul; lingering in the Qin family would only subject him to endless humiliation from those who resented him. Better to venture out—perhaps there was still a sliver of hope.

Disappointment was inevitable, yet Qin Feng did not succumb to despair. Whether in his previous life or childhood, he had endured hardships a hundred times worse than this. Self-pity was useless; to fight the illness inside him, he needed unwavering will and indomitable spirit.

Since Heaven allowed him to live on, he still had hope to rid himself of this great trouble. Besides, he had many tasks yet undone—among them, searching for his missing father. Thus, his desire to live only grew stronger, and his conviction to become powerful remained steadfast.

With these thoughts, Qin Feng drifted back into sleep.

…

Early the next morning, Qin Feng was roused from slumber.

The one who came was Qin Dingtian, City Lord of Tianfeng City. After waking Qin Feng, he took him straight to a secluded spot in the city’s rear mountains, where two others were already waiting: Qin Shaohong and Qin Pang.

Qin Feng expected to see Qin Pang there, but was mildly surprised to find Qin Shaohong accompanying them to the Ancient Tribe Domain. Upon reflection, he understood: as the City Lord’s own grandson, Qin Shaohong had awakened an earth-grade bloodline soul. Fulfilling just one requirement might not earn a place in the Ancient Tribe Domain, but with both met, he stood a strong chance of receiving the highest level of Qin family training.

After all, an earth-grade bloodline soul was considered a prodigy among city lords.

Qin Pang’s eligibility required no explanation; in centuries to come, he might well claim a seat among the elders of the Ancient Tribe Domain.

Qin Feng felt no envy—only anger at reality. Since Heaven allowed him to live, why was his path so rough, while these favored sons enjoyed healthy, privileged upbringings?

If Heaven was unkind, then he would defy it and carve his own path to divinity!

If Heaven sought his destruction, he would slaughter Heaven!

With such thoughts, Qin Feng took his recent failure more calmly.

The two waiting for him showed contrasting expressions upon his arrival.

Qin Shaohong had clearly regained his confidence, the haughty, dismissive look returning to his extremely handsome face. He strode forward and, with a tone laced with mockery, said, “Your name is Qin Feng, isn’t it? That day in Luoyang Town, I really should have killed you. Now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, and that’s not enough—you’re going to continue making a fool of yourself in the Ancient Tribe Domain. I heard that years ago your father, Qin Xiaotian, begged my grandfather for ages to get you special permission to be sent to the Ancient Tribe Domain. My grandfather was punished by the Grand Elder for it. Yet your useless father knelt outside the Ancient Tribe Domain for three days and nights, and they never let him in. Ha! Like father, like son—both failures!”

Qin Shaohong finished in a single breath, arrogant and domineering, unaware of the blazing fire and razor-sharp chill in Qin Feng’s eyes.

Qin Feng had been to the Ancient Tribe Domain before; those memories were a perpetual ache in his heart. His father had lost something called dignity for his sake.

Qin Feng’s pain was for himself, but more for his father. This was a forbidden scale—especially since his father was the one he would defend with his life.

“What, unwilling to accept—?”

Seeing Qin Feng silent, Qin Shaohong was about to continue when a massive fist came flying toward him.

“Hmph, overestimating yourself!”

Qin Shaohong snorted coldly. After awakening his bloodline soul yesterday, his strength had nearly doubled. He knew Qin Feng was also at the tenth stage of the Mortal Steel Realm.

So, seeing Qin Feng attack, Qin Shaohong sneered and met him with a punch.

Fist met fist. Strength against strength.

But Qin Shaohong had clearly underestimated Qin Feng’s true power.

Indeed, most who faced Qin Feng suffered from such overconfidence.

Now, Qin Feng’s physical strength, enhanced by hardening and amplification abilities, and a body revitalized at the cellular level, meant his punch carried at least fifteen hundred units of force.

Even with his earth-grade dragon soul and doubled strength, Qin Shaohong could barely muster a thousand.

Boom!

The sheer force shook the ground. With a crack, Qin Shaohong’s right arm twisted unnaturally.

“Ah!” He screamed.

That punch broke his right arm, but Qin Feng was not done yet. Insults to himself he might endure, but not to his father.

So, as Qin Shaohong flew backward, Qin Feng pursued like a shadow, delivering another punch to Shaohong’s handsome face. His nose, once straight, caved in entirely...

The sudden violence erupted in an instant.

Qin Dingtian, watching the exchange, hadn’t thought much of it at first. Both were at the tenth stage; Shaohong had the bloodline soul advantage—defeating Qin Feng should have been easy. But things took an unexpected turn.

“Stop!” Qin Shaohong’s face was smashed, and even Qin Dingtian, with his cultivated restraint, grew angry.

With a flash, he vanished, and the next moment Qin Feng was flung aside, crashing into a tree and spitting blood.

The punch was not heavy—Qin Dingtian had clearly held back.

“That is enough! From now on, if there is any more internal strife, I won’t be so lenient!” He finished with a fierce glare at Qin Shaohong.

“But, Grandfather, he—”

“Silence! You lacked strength and started trouble yourself, so you deserved the beating. Let this teach you to stop being so arrogant!”

When angry, Qin Dingtian was like an old lion. Shaohong was terrified into silence.

Qin Dingtian knew his grandson’s temperament—what Shaohong lacked was the tenacity shown by Qin Feng. Suffering a defeat at Qin Feng’s hands was not a bad lesson.

“Yes,” Shaohong muttered, lowering his head, his eyes brimming with venom, his bloodied face terrifying to behold.

With things at this point, Qin Feng could not continue. He had wanted to teach Shaohong a harsher lesson, but with Qin Dingtian’s intervention, there was no way. He could have killed Shaohong outright, but he refrained for one reason: Shaohong was Qin Dingtian’s own grandson.

One must always consider the master before beating the dog, and this master had shown him kindness. If not for that, someone who slandered his father would not be allowed to live.

Qin Pang, meanwhile, had his small, beady eyes fixed on Qin Feng, clearly intrigued. After the recent scuffle, his interest only grew. While Qin Dingtian tended to Shaohong’s wounds, Qin Pang stepped up and said sincerely, “Hello, I’m Qin Pang. You must be Qin Feng?”

…