( prank gone wrong)
The three approached.
"Congratulations on failing."
Zhang Lie spoke the moment he arrived, his voice sharp.
"Don't mind him—you did wonderful."
Sang Sang said gently, handing Wei a cup of water.
From a distance, disciples from other clans watched in disbelief.
"I never thought the Zhang family would spoil their child like this… he's too weak," a female disciple whispered, her gaze lingering on Sang Sang as she handed Wei a handkerchief.
A few others chuckled.
"I was expecting some enlightenment or hidden move… but nothing," another added, disappointment clear in his tone.
"Let's go. Now we know who to strike first on that day."
The group exchanged knowing smiles.
"What about a little prank? I've been itching to do something," one of them suggested.
The others nodded, amused.
The sky dimmed as training came to an end.
"Freshen up. Dinner soon."
They all nodded.
Wei returned to his room, bathed, changed, and stepped out just as Zhang Lie walked past him toward the baths. A moment later, Lie emerged, already dressed in a simple brown robe.
"Let's go."
Wei nodded, and they headed downstairs together.
Dinner was already set.
They ate quietly, the atmosphere calm—almost too calm.
Wei suddenly frowned.
Something felt… wrong.
He glanced around, but everything seemed normal.
Still, unease settled in his chest.
He took another bite.
Then—
He froze.
A second later, he lurched to the side and vomited violently.
"Wei!"
His siblings rushed to him in panic.
The vegetables he had eaten were scattered—and within them, barely visible, were tiny pieces of pork. So small that no one would have noticed.
Wei's body trembled uncontrollably, as if in shock.
Across the hall, the group of pranksters fell silent, their faces draining of color. They hadn't expected this.
"Pork… Who added this to his meal?!"
Zhang Lie slammed the table, his aura exploding with rage. His burning gaze swept across the hall.
Behind him, Wei continued to convulse weakly—his strength fading—until his body finally went limp.
"Zhang Wei!"
Panic erupted.
"Quick—inform Elder Mi!"
Several disciples rushed out immediately.
"Take him to his room!"
Sang Sang and Fei Fei helped lift Wei onto Zhang Lin's back as they hurried upstairs.
Below, tension snapped.
Disciples drew their swords instantly at Zhang Lie's silent signal.
A dangerous smile tugged at his lips.
"You've all forgotten… how harsh the Zhang family can be."
His voice was low, but deadly.
"Listen carefully. If you find anyone suspicious in harming the Fifth Young Master… don't hesitate."
His expression darkened as Fei Fei's panicked face flashed in his mind.
"Strike."
"Understood, Senior Brother."
The disciples' stances hardened.
Around them, members of other clans instinctively reached for their weapons.
Ji Lin clicked his tongue, clearly entertained.
"Could it be the boy is sick every time he eats meat?" he mused. "What kind of illness is that?"
"Don't speak carelessly," Ji Yao warned, eyes narrowing as she observed Zhang Lie.
She understood something the others didn't—
Zhang Lie wasn't just angry.
He was about to lose control.
"What is going on?"
Elder Mi's voice cut through the tension as he stepped into the inn—just in time to see Zhang Lie on the verge of unleashing chaos.
Upstairs,
Zhang Wei's eyes fluttered open, just enough to catch the faint flicker of lantern light bouncing off the white walls. The warmth of the blankets pressed against him, but his mind was restless. He could feel it—something shifting in the hall below. His ears caught faint sounds, whispers, footsteps too deliberate to be casual.
"…What's happening?" he murmured, voice barely audible, more to himself than anyone.
Fei Fei leaned closer, her face tense. "Wei… just rest. Don't move."
But he couldn't. His small body, still weak from the incident, trembled with anticipation. His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket as if it were a sword. Something was wrong.
Downstairs, the hall had erupted in a controlled storm. Zhang Lie stood in the center, his presence magnetic and terrifying. Every disciple in the room instinctively froze as his eyes scanned the space, searching for the culprit. The few from other clans dared not breathe, their earlier bravado shattered. Even the whispers had stopped, leaving a heavy silence.
"You!" Zhang Lie's finger jabbed toward a trembling figure in the back. The disciple stumbled, lips opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Zhang Lie's aura flared, subtle but suffocating, sending invisible waves of pressure across the hall. Some of the weaker disciples bent slightly at the knees, struggling to maintain composure.
Elder Mi's calm, measured voice cut through the tension. "Zhang Lie. Enough."
But Zhang Lie's jaw was tight. "Master… he—"
Elder Mi raised a hand. "…Do not act without proof. Remember what we've taught you."
The other disciples from outside clans swallowed hard. They could feel the invisible net closing around them, the air heavy with unspoken warning. This was not just family honor—they were confronting the wrath of the Zhang clan's legacy.
Upstairs, Zhang Wei's pulse quickened. The sensation of raw power, tension, and anger—it wasn't threatening him. Not exactly. It was protective. Protective in a way that made him feel… safe. Even in chaos, he could sense the invisible shield the clan formed around him.
Sang Sang's voice echoed softly from behind him. "Wei… stay calm."
He exhaled slowly, trying to imitate her composure. Each breath still felt shaky, each heartbeat loud in his chest. He could almost visualize it—downstairs, every movement like a dance, the tension building like a storm about to break.
Downstairs, Ji Lin clicked his tongue nervously. "Could it be…?" He glanced at Ji Yao, who only shook his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the scene. They had underestimated the Zhang family's youngest once, but never again.
Zhang Lie's hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, but his fingers itched, ready. "If this was a prank," he said low, his voice carrying like steel across the hall, "I will find you. And if it wasn't… you will wish you were never born."
The outer disciples paled, sweat forming on brows even in the chill of the hall. Their bravado, their prior laughter—it evaporated instantly.
Upstairs, Zhang Wei tightened his grip on the scroll. He realized something profound: he had been nurtured, protected, and trained in a way that went beyond strength. Even if the clan were not there in person, the presence of Zhang Lie, Zhang Lin, Sang Sang, and Fei Fei was enough to make danger almost tangible yet safe.
A deep calm settled over him. His breathing evened. He let the fear, the panic, the chaos flow past him like wind through water. The storm downstairs could rage, but he would not be swept away. Not now. Not ever.
Finally, the footsteps of Zhang Lie retreated slightly as Elder Mi's presence commanded the room. Silence returned, heavy and deliberate. Zhang Wei felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.
"…The world can rage," he whispered softly to himself, "…but I am not alone."
And for the first time in weeks, he truly believed it.
The calm shattered.
Zhang Wei's body suddenly jerked forward, a sharp, broken cough tearing from his throat—
"—ghk!"
Blood.
Dark.
Thick.
It spilled past his lips, staining the pale sheets beneath him in an instant.
For a second—
No one moved.
Then chaos.
"Wei—!"
Fei Fei's voice broke completely, her hands shaking as she tried to hold him upright. The warmth in her aura flickered wildly, unstable, like a flame caught in a storm.
Sang Sang froze—her pupils trembling, breath catching in her throat.
"…No… this isn't right…"
Zhang Lin stepped forward instantly, one hand pressing against Wei's back, steadying him as another cough forced more blood out. His expression didn't panic—
But his eyes darkened.
"His core is rejecting it," he said, voice low, controlled—but tight.
Wei's fingers trembled weakly, clutching at Zhang Lin's sleeve.
"…hurts…"
Barely a whisper.
Fei Fei couldn't take it anymore.
"I'll get Elder Mi!"
She turned—
And ran.
Downstairs—
Her steps were uneven, almost stumbling as she rushed down the wooden stairs, her white robes tangling around her legs.
"Elder Mi—!"
Her voice cracked through the hall like glass.
All heads turned.
She reached him breathless, her chest rising sharply, eyes already glassy.
"Please—save Wei—he's getting worse—he's throwing up blood—we don't know what to do—!"
Even Elder Mi paused.
Then—
He moved.
Fast.
But not rushed.
His gaze flickered once to the overturned food—
And stopped.
His pupils shrank.
"…Spirit beast meat."
The words fell heavy.
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Not irritation.
Something deeper.
"…This is worse."
He turned sharply.
"Zhang Lie—stay here."
His voice dropped—dangerous.
"…and don't do anything stupid."
Then—
He was gone.
His robes swept behind him as he moved up the stairs with Fei Fei close behind.
The moment he left—
Silence.
Then—
A faint sound.
Laughter.
Quiet.
Hidden.
But enough.
Zhang Lie heard it.
He turned slowly.
His face—
Dark.
Not rage.
Not yet.
Something colder.
More dangerous.
His mind replayed it—
Fei Fei nearly falling.
Her voice breaking.
Wei—
Coughing blood.
His fingers tightened around his sword hilt, knuckles paling.
"…Just hope," he said softly.
Too softly.
"Elder Mi brings good news."
A step forward.
The floor creaked beneath him.
His gaze swept across every face in the hall.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
"Or else…"
A pause.
His lips curved slightly—
But there was no humor in it.
"I will dig out your core…"
The air dropped.
"…and feed it to your own beast."
No one laughed now.
No one moved.
Across the room, several elders from other clans frowned, their expressions tightening at the threat.
"This is going too far—"
"Being dragged into this—"
"Control your disciple—"
But their voices lacked strength.
Because they could feel it.
Zhang Lie wasn't bluffing.
Not today.
Near the corner—
The culprits stayed silent.
Hidden.
Pressed behind their master's presence like shadows clinging to a wall.
But their breathing—
Too fast.
Too shallow.
Guilt had a scent.
And the room was beginning to notice.
Zhang Lie's gaze lingered there a second longer—
Then shifted.
"None of you seem to understand," he said quietly.
His voice carried.
Clear.
Cold.
"…why the Fifth Young Master is not someone your pets can touch."
The insult landed.
Hard.
Several disciples stiffened, anger flashing—but none stepped forward.
Because instinct screamed—
Don't.
From the side—
Ji Yao exhaled softly, his eyes never leaving Zhang Lie.
"…This is bad," he murmured.
Beside him, Ji Lin clicked his tongue, though even he had gone quieter.
"He's lost it."
Ji Yao shook his head slightly.
"No."
His gaze sharpened.
"He hasn't."
A pause.
"He's holding back."
That—
Was worse.
Ji Yao folded his arms, thinking quickly.
"Right now… words won't reach him."
His voice was low, calculated.
"It's better to wait for Elder Mi."
His eyes flickered briefly toward the hidden culprits.
"…Before chaos falls on the wrong people."
Because if it didn't—
If Elder Mi came down with bad news—
Then what stood in that hall…
Wouldn't be a dispute.
It would be a purge.
Upstairs—
The door slid open sharply.
Elder Mi entered.
Wei lay there—
Pale.
Breathing uneven.
Blood staining his lips.
Zhang Lin didn't move.
Sang Sang's hands trembled.
Fei Fei stood frozen near the door.
"…Move."
Elder Mi's voice cut through.
They obeyed instantly.
He stepped forward—
Placed a hand over Wei's chest.
Closed his eyes.
The room fell into silence—
Heavy.
Waiting.
Because in that moment—
Everything depended on what he would say next.
"He needs cold."
The words cut through the suffocating tension like a blade.
Elder Mi's eyes were sharp, already calculating.
"There's a cold spring deeper in the woods. It may stabilize his core."
A pause.
"Zhang Lin—bring him."
There was no hesitation.
Zhang Lin stepped forward immediately, lifting Wei carefully onto his back. His movements were steady—but the tightness in his jaw betrayed everything he refused to say.
Wei coughed again—
"—ghk…!"
Blood stained the front of Zhang Lin's robe, spreading slowly across the dim red fabric.
"…sorry…"
The word slipped out weakly.
Barely there.
Zhang Lin's grip tightened slightly.
"…Don't speak."
Low.
Firm.
But not harsh.
Behind them, Sang Sang followed, her hands clenched tightly within her sleeves, her usually calm presence trembling beneath the surface.
Fei Fei stood frozen near the doorway—
Watching.
Helpless.
For once.
The four moved fast.
Down the stairs—
The entire hall fell silent.
Every eye followed them.
Wei's head rested weakly against Zhang Lin's shoulder, his white hair damp, sticking faintly to his pale face. His breathing was shallow—too shallow.
For a moment—
It was hard to tell if he was even conscious.
Or still here.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
The doors opened—
Cold air rushed in.
"We're heading out," Zhang Lin said, not stopping.
Then—
A glance.
Sharp.
"Zhang Lie."
A pause.
"…Don't do anything stupid."
Then they were gone.
The doors shut behind them with a heavy thud.
And the silence they left behind—
Was worse.
For a few seconds—
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then—
Fei Fei stepped forward.
Slowly.
Her white robes brushed softly against the wooden floor, but the sound echoed far louder than it should.
Her head lifted.
Her eyes—
Cold.
Completely different from before.
"Zhang Lie," she said quietly.
"Let's not go too far."
A few shoulders relaxed.
A few breaths released.
Maybe—
Just maybe—
Things wouldn't escalate.
Then—
She smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
"I don't want you to dirty your hands."
The room stilled again.
Because her next words—
Came softer.
Colder.
"I'll be the one to kill them."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
"I won't just stop at you…" her gaze swept across the hall, settling briefly on the clusters of disciples.
"I'll destroy your families."
A pause.
Even the elders felt it.
"I won't leave even the youngest."
The air dropped.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Across the hall—
Some disciples instinctively stepped back.
Others froze completely.
Because this—
Wasn't anger.
This was certainty.
Behind her, Zhang Lie didn't stop her.
Didn't correct her.
Didn't soften it.
Which made it worse.
Because it meant—
He agreed.
Fei Fei tilted her head slightly, her voice lowering further.
"So… just pray."
A small step forward.
"Because if he dies—"
Her eyes sharpened.
"Even if I die…"
A breath.
"I'll drag every single one of you down with me."
Silence.
Absolute.
No whispers.
No movement.
Just fear.
Raw.
Real.
At the far end—
Even the elders from other clans went quiet, their earlier dissatisfaction gone.
Replaced.
By caution.
Because they knew that name.
That bloodline.
And then—
Someone whispered it.
Barely audible.
"…Zhang Chuan…"
The name alone—
Was enough.
A man whose cruelty wasn't rumor—
But fact.
A man who didn't negotiate.
Didn't forgive.
Didn't forget.
Fei Fei's voice came again, softer now—but somehow even more dangerous.
"If you think I'm harsh…"
A faint pause.
"…then pray my parents never hear of this."
No one spoke.
Because everyone understood.
If that man learned—
This inn…
This gathering…
These clans—
Would not survive the night.
Across the room—
Ji Yao exhaled slowly, his gaze heavy.
"…This just became a war waiting to happen."
Beside him, Ji Lin swallowed dryly.
"…All because of one boy?"
Ji Yao didn't answer immediately.
His eyes lingered on the closed doors—
Where Zhang Wei had been carried out.
Then—
Quietly.
"…No."
A pause.
"Because of what that boy is."
And outside—
Far into the woods—
The wind had already begun to rise.