Chapter Twenty-Eight: Where Is She?

Hearing what Brother Long said, Jiang Xiaotian’s heart gave a sudden jolt.

He sensed that something was amiss; everything today felt abnormal, and more importantly, he hadn’t seen Ye Wan’er.

“Turn around,” Jiang Xiaotian said without hesitation, heading straight to Chen Yu’s residence.

But when they arrived, the gates were tightly shut, and the once bustling crowd seemed to have dispersed elsewhere.

A growing sense of unease gnawed at him, and he regretted not leaving any contact information.

Out of necessity, he asked Han Yue for Ye Wan’er’s phone number.

Han Yue, unaware of the situation and still teasing, nevertheless handed over the number when she noticed Jiang Xiaotian’s anxious tone.

Yet Ye Wan’er’s phone, too, was unanswered.

“Mr. Jiang, what’s wrong? You seem very agitated. Don’t worry, we’re attending the Martial Arts Tournament this time—not only are we bound to win, but we’ll certainly place high!” Brother Long assumed Jiang Xiaotian was anxious that Ye Wan’er’s absence might affect their performance.

Jiang Xiaotian pressed his lips together, his voice dropping: “Why do you say that?”

“Huh? Didn’t Mr. Chen tell you? It’s all over Linhai City! Last night, two External Strength masters died—rumor has it, it was Mr. Chen’s doing! Many claim he’s already stepped into Internal Strength! Do you realize what that means, Mr. Jiang? In all of Beihai, there might not be more than a handful with Internal Strength!” The more Brother Long spoke, the more excited he became, believing Chen Yu was part of their group.

Jiang Xiaotian took a deep breath, his heart tightening.

How did Chen Yu break through to Internal Strength?

None of this could be mere coincidence.

He recalled what Ling’er had said—perhaps Ye Wan’er had already…

At the thought of that girl who always threatened to beat him up, Jiang Xiaotian felt a sudden ache in his heart.

Of all the martial artists he’d met, only she was genuinely upright and righteous.

Why?

Jiang Xiaotian steeled himself and told Brother Long to get out of the car: “Head back, don’t go out tonight. I have something to take care of. Look after Ling’er, and use your connections here to help me find out where Chen Yu has gone.”

Brother Long was baffled; Jiang Xiaotian seemed to have changed overnight, but he didn’t ask questions and obeyed.

Soon, the name of a hotel appeared before Jiang Xiaotian.

Chen Yu was hosting a banquet, with many prominent families visiting him.

It seemed he had to prepare for the worst.

He rushed, following the navigation, and arrived at the hotel—splendid and crowded.

Fortunately, Brother Long’s car carried weight, and entry was smooth, especially after he mentioned Chen Yu’s name; the staff treated him with the utmost respect.

Jiang Xiaotian hadn’t expected that Chen Yu had booked out the entire lobby, now packed to the brim, with even more people standing without seats, unwilling to leave.

He forced a bitter smile; he was increasingly disillusioned with the world of martial artists.

---

Every boy dreams of chivalry, longing for a world brimming with justice and honor, but upon truly entering the world of martial artists, Jiang Xiaotian found reality contrary to his hopes.

Strength rules; that is the eternal law.

Just yesterday, people had cursed Chen Yu and Ling Zhi as rats and trash; today, everyone flocked to be his guests.

Of course, Jiang Xiaotian didn’t know which families these were, nor did he care; even if given the chance, he would never befriend these fair-weather allies.

He scanned the room and finally spotted Chen Yu at the central table.

Now Chen Yu’s face was radiant, a confident smile on his lips as he exchanged toasts with those around him, evidently in high spirits.

Sensing the atmosphere, Jiang Xiaotian sighed again.

Chen Yu had indeed grown stronger—so strong, in fact, that he sensed a familiar aura, the very one that always threatened to teach him a lesson…

But even before, Ling’er wasn’t his match; how could she be now?

And what did that make him?

He pushed aside these thoughts and strode forward.

Jiang Xiaotian’s arrival surprised neither Chen Yu nor the others.

“So it’s Mr. Jiang! Truly, Mr. Chen’s lineage produces talent—Mr. Jiang, so young, yet already a martial artist. Your future is limitless!” someone quickly flattered him.

Chen Yu smiled without responding and beckoned to Jiang Xiaotian: “Nephew, come, let me introduce you to everyone here.”

“Where is Ye Wan’er?” Jiang Xiaotian’s tone was level, neither warm nor cold; at this point, he no longer felt fear.

Though his voice was icy, the tension was palpable, and the atmosphere grew awkward.

“Haha, and here I thought it was something important. Come, nephew, have a seat.” Chen Yu continued to play it cool, but his gaze grew colder.

“Answer me. Where is Ye Wan’er?” Jiang Xiaotian said, grabbing a wine glass and smashing it to the floor!

With a sharp crash, the noisy lobby fell instantly silent.

All eyes turned toward him.

“This…”

“Mr. Jiang, please, let’s talk calmly.”

Some tried to mediate.

Chen Yu stared at Jiang Xiaotian, suddenly leaning back to look down at him: “You mean that woman?”

He shook his head in mock incredulity, addressing the crowd: “Strange, isn’t it? Here we are, martial artists, and yet he asks me this—do you find it odd?”

The others didn’t know the details, but they sided with the strong.

Jiang Xiaotian barely contained his rage: “Chen Yu, where is Ye Wan’er? Why isn’t she participating in the Martial Arts Tournament?”

Chen Yu stroked his beard, unconcerned about the crowd, and replied openly: “Oh? She’s just a furnace, a supporting role—what qualifications does she have to compete? Besides, she’s now less than a cripple. Should I let her disgrace herself?”

---

Jiang Xiaotian clenched his fists, but he was powerless; even if he acted on impulse, would it end well?

“But my dear nephew, when did our lineage become so soft? Besides, Wan’er agreed of her own volition. I swear on my honor, she said herself, ‘No matter what, I am willing.’”

“Yes, Mr. Jiang, there are plenty of other beautiful women out there. To help Mr. Chen break through to Internal Strength—isn’t that Miss Ye’s good fortune?” others chimed in.

Jiang Xiaotian finally lost all patience: “Didn’t you all say this was the evil path? Didn’t you claim to punish evil and uphold good? Ling Zhi died, and you condemned him—why, when Chen Yu harms others, do you protect him?”

They were stunned by his rebuke, their faces sour; after all, they didn’t care about Jiang Xiaotian’s honor, only Chen Yu’s.

Chen Yu burst out laughing, taking a sip of wine, still relaxed: “I haven’t harmed anyone; she’s peacefully sleeping at home. As for you, my nephew—why this sudden hatred for your uncle? Or perhaps, your uncle was never me?”

At these words, the crowd was shocked!

Jiang Xiaotian said nothing, turning to leave, unconcerned with his own identity.

He was himself—Jiang Xiaotian belonged to no one but himself.

Once he disappeared from sight, someone immediately asked, “Mr. Chen, what was that about?”

Chen Yu smiled, feigning regret: “Ah, Jiang Xiaotian is probably angling for a connection. For all we know, my poor senior and nephew died at his hands. So young, yet so ruthless!”

Those who once clamored that Ling Zhi deserved death were now outraged: “Unbelievable! Elder Ling died unjustly! This grudge must be avenged!”

But Chen Yu was confident, shaking his head: “Don’t worry, I’ve registered him for the tournament. I’ll show him that my reputation isn’t so easily borrowed!”

“Excellent! Mr. Chen, you’ll surely make your mark at this tournament. I’ll toast to your success!”

“I too raise a glass to Mr. Chen—may you triumph!”

This banquet, naturally, was a celebration. Tonight, Chen Yu would truly step into Internal Strength! And Jiang Xiaotian, whether or not he was truly his nephew, would die in this Martial Arts Tournament!

…

Jiang Xiaotian rushed to Ye Wan’er’s residence, the door locked tight.

Without hesitation, he kicked it open.

“Ye Wan’er?” he called out, but there was no reply.

Only one room remained closed; Jiang Xiaotian forced himself to calm, then opened the door.

A girl lay quietly on the bed, peaceful as could be.

But she was thin—so thin she seemed all bones.

Her face was pale, as white as paper…