The Xue Family's counterattack was faster and more brilliant than Feng Yuan had anticipated.
Hou San stood in the Study Room, a hint of dejection on his face.
"Master, that Fatty Xue... is truly a formidable character."
"He directly set up a stage outside the Shops, inviting the most famous Physician in the city to examine all the afflicted parties suffering from the 'skin rash' for free."
"Those Ruffians we hired, as soon as they heard they had to have their pulse checked by a real Physician, their faces turned green. They were immediately surrounded, and within moments, they confessed that they had taken money to deliberately smear the Xue Family's name."
Feng Yuan listened quietly, turning a Chess piece over in his hand, his expression unreadable.
"The source of the money, did you trace it?"
"No." Hou San shook his head. "They only said someone slipped them money at the alley entrance late at night. It was dark, and they couldn't see who it was. This matter ultimately became an unsolved Official Desk case."
"Although the Xue Family cleared themselves, everyone in the city believes the Zhen Family was behind the dirty trick. The feud between the two families is now completely set."
Hou San finished speaking and cautiously watched Feng Yuan's expression.
He had expected his Master to be angry, as this entire setup had been easily neutralized by the opponent.
However, Feng Yuan smiled.
He gently placed the black Chess piece in his hand onto the Chessboard.
"Isn't this exactly what we wanted?"
Hou San was startled. "Master, you mean?"
"I never expected a few Ruffians to topple a century-old tree," Feng Yuan's gaze fell upon the Chessboard. "I just wanted to see how deep the roots of this tree run. It seems quite interesting now."
He raised his eyes and looked at Hou San.
"Xue Pan is an idiot, not worth fearing. His mother is indecisive and cannot accomplish much."
"The one truly in charge of this family is that Xue Baochai who never leaves the house."
"She is very clever, understanding how to use borrowed force to fight, turning a bad situation into a good one for gaining sympathy and attacking opponents."
Feng Yuan stood up and walked to the window.
"Is the Zhen Family's silk still dropping in price?"
"Yes." Hou San immediately replied. "They have released all the fabric patterns and colors from your designs. Now, any respectable family in the city takes pride in wearing Zhen Family satin. The Xue Family's business is declining day by day."
"The Xue Family's Shops are deserted. The Shop assistants lean against the doorframes dozing, and a thin layer of dust has settled on the abacuses on the counters."
"A bolt of fine lake silk is displayed, and half a day passes before even one person comes to look."
"Very good. You go and buy a few pieces of Zhen Family satin as well." Feng Yuan's voice was soft. "Xue Baochai can solve the immediate difficulty, but she cannot solve this situation of draining the foundation. As long as the Zhen Family doesn't fall, the Xue Family will continue to bleed."
What he wanted was for the Xue Family to slowly lose blood.
Later, he would send the Zhen Family a few rolls of patterns every month.
Only when the prey was at its weakest would he bare his fangs.
"You may go. The situation is tense recently, tell everyone outside to behave themselves."
"Yes, Master."
Hou San retreated.
In the Study Room, only Feng Yuan remained.
He looked at the solitary black piece on the Chessboard, besieged by a large expanse of white pieces.
Xue Baochai...
The name rolled off his tongue, carrying a hint of cold interest.
Half a year passed in the blink of an eye.
Winter gave way to spring, and the few stalks of Green Bamboo in the courtyard sprouted new shoots.
A cold breeze from the north swept across the surface of the pond.
Feng Yuan stood in the courtyard, bare-chested.
If Feng Fang and Hou San saw him now, they would likely be too shocked to speak.
In just half a year, the formerly frail, skinny youth had completely transformed his physique.
His height had increased significantly, his shoulders broadened, and solid muscle lines had developed across his chest and arms.
Those muscles were not bulky and exaggerated like those of ordinary martial artists, but smooth and full of explosive power, like a leopard poised to strike.
The old bruises on his body had long faded.
The marks left by the Wooden Staff were the medals of his rebirth.
"Hoo..."
He slowly exhaled a plume of white air and suddenly punched the wooden dummy in front of him.
"Bang!"
With a dull thud, the wrist-thick wooden post shook violently, leaving a clear fist imprint on its surface.
Zhou Wu leaned against a corridor pillar, a wine gourd in his arms, but his eyes were no longer filled with the playful mockery and contempt from half a year ago.
His gaze held an unconcealable shock.
"You brat, what kind of monster are you?" he finally couldn't help but ask.
Feng Yuan retracted his fist and turned around.
Sweat slid down his sharply defined face as he grinned, revealing his white teeth.
"Master taught me well."
"Nonsense!" Zhou Wu cursed. "I've been in the army for so many years, and I've never seen anyone like you!"
He stepped forward and pinched Feng Yuan's arm; it was hard as stone.
"Your injuries healed too fast. Your strength grew too unnaturally."
"The first month, if I hit you with one strike from the Wooden Staff, it would take you half a day to recover. Now, even if I use all my strength, you don't even frown."
Zhou Wu's eyes raked over Feng Yuan like knives.
"Is there something wrong with the medicine you're taking?"
"It's a prescription from the Physician, with some potent herbs added, like tiger bone and mountain ginseng," Feng Yuan replied calmly.
Of course, he wouldn't tell the truth.
He himself had noticed the abnormality in his body.
That warm current that had repaired his body when he was gravely injured had not disappeared.
Every time Zhou Wu beat him until he was covered in bruises, every time he collapsed from exhaustion, as long as he slept through the night, he would wake up the next day not only fully recovered but with his strength and bones even tougher than before.
His memory had also become extraordinarily sharp.
The killing techniques Zhou Wu taught him, he could remember perfectly after seeing them once.
The complex historical records and anecdotes Han Anmeng spoke of, he could repeat almost perfectly after hearing them once.
This was the Transmigration benefit, his greatest secret, and the greatest reliance for his revenge.
"Again!" Feng Yuan said in a deep voice, battle intent flaring in his eyes.
"Good!"
Zhou Wu tossed aside his wine gourd, his interest piqued.
He no longer used the Wooden Staff, but fought bare-handed, launching a Black Tiger Steals Heart strike directly at Feng Yuan's chest.
This move was fast and fierce, carrying a bloody aura honed on the battlefield.
If it had been the Feng Yuan from half a year ago, he probably wouldn't have even had time to react.
But now, Feng Yuan's body seemed to possess its own consciousness.
He shifted his weight, lowered his shoulder, seized Zhou Wu's wrist like Iron pincers with his right hand, and drove his left elbow forward in sequence.
"Bang!"
The tip of his elbow struck Zhou Wu squarely below the ribs.
Zhou Wu grunted and staggered back three steps, his face full of disbelief.
He... was actually forced back by this brat?
"Good! Good kid!" Zhou Wu laughed instead of getting angry, fierce light erupting in his eyes. "Today, I'll let you see what a real killing technique is!"
The two began to grapple in the courtyard.
Fists and feet collided, producing dull impact sounds.
This was no longer teaching; it was a genuine fight to the death.
Feng Yuan's moves were far less seasoned than Zhou Wu's, but he was young, possessed endless stamina, and more importantly, he had a desperate ferocity.
He traded injury for injury, deliberately taking a punch to the shoulder to land a knee strike into the other's abdomen.
Half an hour later, both were exhausted, lying on the ground gasping for breath.
Feng Yuan had several new bruises on his face, and his lip was split, but he was smiling.
Zhou Wu looked at Feng Yuan, who lay beside him like a dead dog yet smiled happily, and he too grinned.
"You damn fool, you're a lunatic."
"The feeling is mutual," Feng Yuan gasped.
"Starting tomorrow, I'll teach you how to use a blade," Zhou Wu suddenly said.
Feng Yuan's eyes lit up.
"On the real battlefield, no one fights you bare-handed. A good blade is more useful than anything," Zhou Wu looked at the sky. "I will forge you into a blade. A blade... that can draw blood and seal a throat."