Chapter 113: The Ye Family's Retribution
The crisp scent of herbal soap still lingered faintly in the air as Su Tianhao stepped into his courtyard, fresh from his bath. Dressed in clean azure robes, his damp hair loosely tied, he looked nothing like the man who had crippled Ye Wenjie hours ago—calm, composed, as unreadable as still water.
The early afternoon sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, painting golden patterns across the stone path. Birds chirped faintly in the distance, and for the first time in weeks, something close to peace settled over him.
He exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing as he stretched.
Then—
Tap tap tap!
Hurried footsteps rang from the courtyard entrance, carrying obvious urgency in their pace.
Su Tianhao turned, brows furrowing—and found Su Lei rushing in, silver hair fluttering, boots kicking up small clouds of dust with each step.
His expression brightened immediately. "Su Lei!"
Su Lei didn't return the greeting. He gaze fixed on Su Tianhao with a deep frown. "What have you done, Tianhao?"
Su Tianhao raised an eyebrow.
"Don't play dumb with me! Why did you cripple Ye Wenjie's cultivation?!" Su Lei snapped.
"Oh, that..." Su Tianhao's eyes flashed cold. "He's allowed to try and kill me, yet I'm not allowed to retaliate?"
Su Lei shook his head with a heavy sigh. "I've heard what happened. But you're safe now, and there's no solid evidence to back up your actions."
"Safe now? Solid evidence?" Su Tianhao's expression turned sharp.
"I came very close to dying—and you're asking me to wait for solid evidence before I act on my revenge?" His frown deepened. "Just his words this morning already proved everything. He wasn't expecting me to return from Dragonspire Forest."
His voice dropped, cold and chilling.
"He expected me dead." Killing intent flashed briefly in his golden eyes as he continued. "He is very lucky to still have his life."
Su Lei drew a sharp breath, his eyes widening slightly. He could sense the killing intent radiating from Su Tianhao's gaze—raw and unrestrained, the kind that only came from someone who had genuinely brushed against death.
'This is the first time I've seen him this angry. This matter must have been truly life-threatening,' Su Lei thought. As the realization settled, his expression turned solemn.
No matter what, Su Tianhao was his friend. And after years of knowing him, Su Lei knew he wouldn't act without real justification.
"If that's the case, then Ye Wenjie deserves every bit of what happened to him," Su Lei said quietly.
Su Tianhao's frown eased. "Enough about Ye Wenjie. Let's talk about you."
"Me?" Su Lei pointed to himself, silver brows raised.
"You broke through to the 6th level Martial Disciple Realm, didn't you?" Su Tianhao said, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
He had sensed the change in Su Lei's Qi fluctuations the moment he stepped into the courtyard. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had made significant progress in these two weeks. But compared to Su Lei's advancement, Su Tianhao's own progress was something else entirely—the difference between heaven and earth.
"You really have sharp eyes," Su Lei said, a proud smile breaking through. "I broke through a few days ago."
"Good." Su Tianhao's smile widened. He was genuinely happy for his friend.
He paused briefly, as if remembering something, then reached into his storage pouch and produced a pill bottle. Inside, ten pills fluctuated with faint spiritual energy.
Su Lei's eyes lit up. "Essence Refinement Pills!"
"Take them," Su Tianhao said simply, holding the bottle out.
"This—" Su Lei's brows furrowed. "Aren't those the pills the Patriarch gave you to aid your cultivation?"
Su Tianhao nodded. They were—but he no longer needed them. His cultivation had already reached Peak-stage Martial Disciple Realm, and Essence Refinement Pills were most useful to those still climbing through the realm. Besides, he still had a full second bottle from Lu Ruyi. These would serve Su Lei far better than just laying around in his storage pouch.
"I can't accept this," Su Lei said, shaking his head.
"Why?" Su Tianhao asked, golden eyes narrowing slightly.
"It was gifted to you by the Patriarch. And you need them as much as I do," Su Lei said sincerely.
Su Tianhao didn't answer with words. Instead, he released Silent Pulse.
BOOM!
His aura expanded outward, azure robes whipping wildly around him like banners in a raging storm. The air trembled, rustling fallen oak leaves across the stone floor.
"Peak-stage Martial Disciple Realm!"
Su Lei's eyes went wide. He had heard the speculation two weeks ago—but never truly believed it. Su Tianhao's real power had always seemed rooted in his heavenly constitution and sword dao comprehension, not raw cultivation level. Even during their most intense spars, whenever Su Tianhao was forced to go all out, the Qi fluctuations Su Lei sensed had never suggested anything like this.
'To go from the 1st level to 9th level in just a few weeks...'
His heart pounded as the full weight of it settled.
'I have to grow stronger,' he thought, icy determination crystallizing in his chest.
"Are you alright?" Su Tianhao's calm voice cut through his thoughts.
Su Lei blinked, still staring. "How do you cultivate?"
Su Tianhao smiled—mysterious and unhurried. "It's a secret."
Could he say he cultivated by devouring spiritual energy? By absorbing the essence of spirit beasts? Absolutely not.
Su Lei's brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't press further.
"So," Su Tianhao said, with the faint edge of mild impatience, "are you taking the pills or not?"
"I'll take them!" Su Lei snatched the bottle from his hand in one fluid motion, then paused. "Thank you," he said, the words carrying genuine weight.
"You don't need to thank me," Su Tianhao replied, shaking his head. "Thank me by reaching Peak-stage yourself."
Su Lei's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. "Yes!"
---
Dozens of kilometers away, at the eastern edge of Oakwood City, a small troop of armored guards had assembled before the massive gates of the Ye family estate in an imposing formation.
At their front stood Ye Shiming—eyes bloodshot with rage, weathered face twisted with fury so intense it sent chills down the spines of every guard present.
Beside him stood a towering figure in intricate golden robes that fluttered around his sturdy frame, exuding an air of authority and command. Ye Zhenwu—the Ye family Patriarch, and Ye Shiming's younger brother. His expression was solemn, his eyes carrying a coldness that seemed capable of freezing the surrounding air.
To the onlookers, he appeared to be an enraged uncle grieving his nephew's misfortune.
But was that truly the case?
Though Ye Zhenwu wore the mask of anger convincingly, his heart was far from grieved. With Wenjie reduced to a cripple, the path to the Patriarch position was now wide open for his own sons—no more serious rivals standing in the way. How could he not be pleased?
He was not alone in this. Ye Xunhai and Ye Sheng, standing close behind him, shared the sentiment—though none of them dared let it show.
Regardless of how they felt privately, the reality was simple: Ye Wenjie had been the Ye family's most outstanding young master. Someone had publicly crippled him. To not retaliate would be to invite disrespect from every clan and merchant faction in Oakwood City. In the world of powerful families, reputation was currency—and vengeance was often just another form of diplomacy.
Ye Xunhai and Ye Sheng stood behind the Patriarch with appropriately grave expressions that masked the satisfaction beneath. They were a stark contrast in bearing—Ye Xunhai, refined and sharp-featured with jet-black hair tied into a long ponytail, exuded cunning and measured intelligence; Ye Sheng, bald and broad-shouldered with a thick beard, radiated bluntness and brute authority.
Ye Shiming's camp felt nothing of their quiet relief. His bitterness was palpable—his only son crippled, every hope of wrestling the Patriarch seat from Ye Zhenwu's lineage reduced to ash. Ye Baokang stood beside him, chubby face flushed crimson, sweat beading on his brow despite the cool air.
Even Fourth Elder Ye Chongtai—ordinarily quiet and reserved—was seething with barely-contained rage. He was a man of principle who cared less about faction politics than about excellence. Ye Wenjie had proven himself a rare prodigy. But his future had been severed before it could truly begin.
"Su Tianhao..." Ye Chongtai muttered through gritted teeth, his lips trembling with restrained fury.
The entire upper echelon of the Ye family had assembled, along with its most elite guards—every one of them at the Martial Core Realm, with several already having stepped into the Martial Soul Realm. Warriors whose very presence could shake lesser cultivators to their core.
For the first time in years, the Ye family stood united behind a single purpose.
And their intentions were unmistakable.
They were going to send a message to all of Oakwood City.
A message written in blood and vengeance.