A piercing shriek tore through the air overhead, and a streak of blue light plummeted like a meteor, landing squarely in Jun Moxie’s small courtyard—it was Old Master Jun Zhantian, making his hurried return!

Upon arrival, the old man froze dead. He had fully expected that in his absence, his grandson would have either been seized or thoroughly tortured. Although the grandson had made remarkable progress lately, he hadn't yet broken past the Ninth Rank. Defeat and capture were entirely foreseeable. He had been mentally prepared to find the premises empty, then immediately confront Dugu Zongheng, demanding his grandson back and seeking retribution. He certainly hadn't anticipated discovering this scene!

Surprise? Astonishment? Or sheer terror?!

This was too dramatic!

His "little chop" sat there, completely unharmed, while the seven young masters from the Dugu family lay sprawled on the ground—unconscious... Ah, wait. The Old Master had to admit he misjudged; these seven weren't just unconscious, they were thoroughly drunk into oblivion.

Rubbing his eyes, Jun Zhantian still struggled to believe what he saw. He couldn't fathom how his grandson had achieved such a brilliant victory—actually drinking with the very people sent to apprehend him, and managing to get them all plastered! Even though the Old Master knew the brew Jun Moxie made was potent, witnessing this tableau made him realize he had severely miscalculated.

Seeing his grandson was safe, Old Master Jun exchanged a few terse words, then slowly ambled out, hands clasped behind his back; well, he certainly wouldn't involve himself in this kind of matter.

When the Dugu father and son returned home, they were greeted by the reality they expected: the seven young masters, fueled by rage, had already stormed off to give Jun Moxie trouble. Dugu Zongheng felt a pang of regret: judging by Jun Zhantian’s demeanor, if his seven grandsons had pushed things just a bit too far this time, the Dugu and Jun families might have genuinely gone to war.

“Alas, if I hadn't been so impulsive, if I had just informed that old rascal Jun Zhantian first, or—”

Father and son stared at each other, feeling as though they were sitting on pins and needles. In terms of sheer power, the Dugu Clan certainly didn't fear the Jun Clan. However, if the two families allowed things to escalate beyond repair and a war broke out, neither side could afford the consequences! Furthermore, Jun Zhantian now had nothing left to lose; he couldn't even talk about a safe retreat. He was the type to drag the whole world down with him if he died. If the two families went to war, perhaps not only the Dugu Aristocratic Family would pay the price for the Jun Family, but the entire Tianxiang Empire might end up paying for the Jun Family’s fate...

Things had truly spiraled out of control!

Old Master Dugu Zongheng paced back and forth in the main hall, utterly restless. Beside him, General Dugu Wudi watched until his eyes blurred, yet dared not utter a sound.

As the sun began to dip toward the west, the father and son—whose general temperament was admittedly somewhat thick-skinned—finally sensed something was deeply wrong: Why hadn't the boys returned? Could it be that those lads caught Jun Moxie, went too hard on him, and crippled him? And then they ran smack into the returning Old Master Jun, provoking his immense fury...

"Heavens! Jun Zhantian wouldn't possibly be that ungracious, would he?"

The father and son shared a telepathic connection, simultaneously realizing this terrifying possibility, and in their exchange of glances, saw the profound shock reflected in the other's eyes.

Just then, a guard came running up, panting, "Reporting to the Family Head, Young Master Jun Moxie from the Jun family has sent someone over with some items."

"Bring them in!" Dugu Zongheng felt a vague sense of unease, but since the items were sent by Jun Moxie, it suggested the boy himself was likely unharmed. He relaxed slightly and gracefully settled into his grand armchair.

What Jun Moxie sent was merely a small bundle. Dugu Zongheng took it, squeezed it lightly, then his face shifted. He flipped it over, and with a rustle, several objects tumbled onto the table.

“Wastrels! A bunch of utter wastrels!” Old Master Dugu Zongheng leaped up in a furious rage, kicking General Dugu Wudi twice. “Look at the rabble you’ve raised!” His fingers trembled. “Look! Seven against one, and they let themselves be captured alive and well! They even sent back the family jade pendants! What a disgrace, what a profound disgrace to the name!”

Suddenly suffering collateral damage, Dugu Wudi clutched his rear end, crying out in pain, while inwardly grumbling: What do you mean 'the rabble I’ve raised'? Aren't those seven also raised by you, Old Master?

What Jun Moxie returned were the heirloom jade pendants worn only by the direct descendants of the Dugu Aristocratic Family—the very symbol of their lineage. Inside was also a small note: “The seven Dugu brothers are currently guests at our Jun residence, enjoying themselves immensely. They should return in about two or three months. Rest assured, Old Master Dugu. Rest assured, General Dugu!”

“Guests? Returning in two or three months? And ‘rest assured’?” Dugu Zongheng’s nose was crooked with anger. “Fang Di! You immediately go over there and drag those seven useless things back! I swear, I will skin them one by one!”

Dugu Wudi felt as if a great burden had been lifted, shooting out like an arrow. Immediately after, the sound of galloping hooves filled the courtyard—a sound as hurried as sudden rain—and then faded swiftly into the distance.

When General Dugu Wudi arrived at the Jun residence this time, accompanied by a hundred personal guards, he had sent in a formal request for an audience. His seven nephews could act recklessly and barge in with impunity—that was the reckless folly of youth, a privilege granted to the young and inexperienced. A mere slip-up could be excused. But Dugu Wudi, coming in person, could not be so presumptuous. No matter how belligerent or tough he was, he was still one of the foremost generals in the Tianxiang Empire.

A subordinate produced the General’s calling card and presented it, requesting an audience with Old Master Jun Zhantian. The gatekeeper accepted it with great courtesy but returned the message: the Old Master was not present; he had just stepped out to visit a friend. Dugu Wudi instantly felt shame turning to suppressed anger: You just finished having a fight with my Old Master and I follow right behind, almost immediately, and now you claim you’re visiting a friend? Are you trying to fool a ghost? If you hadn't seized my sons and nephews, gaining the upper hand, would you be this relaxed?

Of course, despite his thoughts, a man beneath another’s roof must bow his head. He then requested an audience with Third Master Jun Wuyi: "Your son’s legs are inconvenient; surely he hasn't also gone visiting friends, has he?!"

Before the messenger could even report inside, a smiling voice called out, “Oh, it’s truly Great General Dugu gracing us with his presence! Wuyi is overjoyed! Why are you being so tactless? Announce nothing—form ranks to welcome him!” Dugu Wudi focused his gaze and saw a wheelchair slowly rolling out from the inner courtyard. Jun Wuyi, clad in a plain robe, sat calmly upon it, a peaceful smile gracing his face as he looked out at Dugu Wudi.

The Jun Wuyi before him seemed identical to how he had been before, yet Dugu Wudi’s nerves, tempered by decades of warfare, instinctively detected a profound sense of wrongness!

Stillness!

Yes, too still! So still it inspired dread and fear! Such a chilling aura!

Moreover, beneath Jun Wuyi’s calm visage—with its sharp, eagle-like brows—Dugu Wudi distinctly perceived an arrogance that seemed to pierce the very heavens! It was as if a peerless divine weapon, long gathering dust, was about to be drawn forth, its brilliance about to reappear, commanding the world amidst the roars of dragons and tigers, ready to fight the storms once more!

In that instant, Dugu Wudi had a sudden, startling illusion: the man before him was not the crippled Jun Wuyi of the last decade, but unmistakably the White-Robed Marshal of yesteryear! The soul of a commander who once laughed down the world, directing cavalry that trampled the Xuan Xuan Continent—Jun Wuhui! Jun Moxie’s father, the iron-fisted commander of a hundred victories, the undefeated God of War!

In a flash, Dugu Wudi felt an inexplicable surge of solemn respect!

Jun Wuhui! The person Dugu Wudi respected most in his entire life, the figure he looked up to like a towering mountain, and the ultimate goal Dugu Wudi had pursued his whole life! Dugu Wudi, who once served as a general under Jun Wuhui, still, even now, in the dead of night, recalled those magnificent, clangorous years of military life!

"Wudi, when I return victorious, you and I, brothers, will charge south and trample the Divine Bestowal of the Yu Tang! Hahaha..." This was what Jun Wuhui said to Dugu Wudi, who couldn't yet join the expedition, slapping him on the shoulder before riding off to war years ago.

It was also the last interaction between the two brothers, Wuhui and Wudi, in their lifetime! And it was the phrase Dugu Wudi mumbled drunkenly every time over the last decade!

“Dog—” Dugu Wudi stepped forward excitedly, about to blurt out the old address, "Brother Wu—" but he suddenly snapped out of his trance. His vision cleared; it was unmistakably Jun Wuyi! Jun Wuyi seated in the wheelchair!

The Jun Wuyi who had been crippled for ten years!

In that brief span, Dugu Wudi swayed, and his tiger-like eyes actually misted over slightly.

“Brother Dugu?” Jun Wuyi looked at him faintly, gazing at the old comrade, the old brother with whom he had once campaigned side-by-side. There was not a trace of emotion in his sharp gaze—as calm as water, as cold as water, as chilling as water!

After the two heroes of the Jun family died, although the Jun Clan remained a prominent power in Tianxiang, it was no longer comparable to its former glory. It was at this juncture that the Dugu Aristocratic Family suddenly rose, seizing half the military authority previously held by the Jun family. While it was clear this was merely the Emperor’s balancing mechanism, with no one truly to blame, Jun Wuyi still felt stifled!

Stifled for the Jun family, stifled for his father, and most of all, stifled for his deceased elder brother, Wuhui!

He even felt that Dugu Wudi owed a debt for the extensive support and promotion his elder brother had once given him! After ten years of disability, a colossal volcano had been building within Jun Wuyi’s heart. Therefore, he showed not a shred of courtesy to Dugu Wudi, his former close comrade and friend!

Everyone in the capital, save for the old masters of the various aristocratic houses, feared this General Dugu Xiudi! But Jun Wuyi did not fear him! Far from it; in every meeting, Jun Wuyi would relentlessly mock Dugu Wudi, who would always be left speechless, unable to retort.

“Third Brother, your elder brother offers his greetings. Your health has improved greatly recently, yes? Heh heh... heh heh.” In Tianxiang City, aside from a limited few, Dugu Wudi genuinely feared very few people, but Jun Wuyi was undoubtedly one of the few he most dreaded facing! Today, if the situation hadn't been so sudden and required his personal attention to resolve, he truly would have preferred not to confront this old friend from his past!

General Dugu forced himself to compose his thoughts, managing a strained smile. “I hear our seven little rascals, being inexperienced, caused quite a bit of trouble at your estate and have been detained as guests. I’ve come simply to haul them back and properly discipline them! I will certainly question them—how dare they raise their hands against the Jun family! Whose backing do they rely on?”

Even the unflappable Third Master Jun almost laughed aloud. Whose backing? You actually have the nerve to ask that?

“Oh? Is that so? I was unaware,” Jun Wuyi said with a faint smile, turning his head. “Have the seven young masters of the Dugu family been here?”