The atmosphere was tense, and Yan Zi's heart raced uncontrollably as he saw the tears streaming down his mother's face. Her usual composure was replaced by a rare fragility that sent a pang of worry through his chest. He quickly moved closer, his voice trembling slightly.
"Mother, what happened?" Yan Zi asked, his bright blue eyes darting to the lifeless black-robed man sprawled across the ground. Though a fleeting sense of relief crossed his mind that the threat was neutralized, unease still gripped him.
His mother, her face pale and her hands trembling, struggled to find her voice. "Zi'er…" she began softly, her voice cracking, "your father…your father has been missing for two days now. Last night, this black-robed man—" she gestured toward the corpse, "—he attacked me in the middle of the night. If the elders hadn't arrived in time…" She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
Yan Zi clenched his fists, his mind spinning with worry. "Father… missing?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Before he could ask more, a commanding voice interrupted from the side. Yan Shengtian, the clan leader, stood tall, his brows furrowed in deep concern. His voice was filled with both authority and urgency as he addressed the gathered disciples and elders.
"All elders and disciples," he announced, his tone firm, "search every corner of the Primordial Beast Forest! If that yields nothing, search the entirety of Ethereal City! Elder Yan Hong must be found, no matter what it takes!"
The disciples, standing at attention, nodded in unison, their expressions grave. Yan Zi glanced at the black-robed man on the ground again, uneasiness settling in his chest. Who was this attacker? Why did they target his mother? And more importantly, where was his father?
As the elders and disciples dispersed to carry out the search, Yan Zi noticed his mother trembling slightly. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, Mother," he said, his voice filled with determination. "We'll find him. Father will be safe."
His mother nodded weakly, though her tear-streaked face betrayed her deep anxiety. She gripped Yan Zi's hand tightly, seeking strength in his presence.
From the corner of his eye, Yan Zi saw Yan Ling watching the scene silently, her expression unreadable. For a moment, their gazes met, but she quickly turned away.
The tense air was almost suffocating as everyone scattered to begin the search, but as Yan Zi stood beside his mother, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something much bigger was at play.
Yan Zi gently guided his mother back to their home, his hand supporting her trembling frame. He spoke in a soft, soothing tone, trying his best to comfort her. "Mother, please don't worry. Father is strong, and the clan is doing everything to find him. You need to rest."
His mother nodded weakly, her eyes still glistening with tears. "Zi'er, you've grown so much. You remind me so much of your father. He… he always believed in you."
Yan Zi's chest tightened at her words, but he forced a small smile to reassure her. "I won't let you down, Mother. You're safe now. Just rest, and leave the rest to me and the clan."
After ensuring his mother was settled, Yan Zi retreated to his own room. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, his calm demeanor slowly cracking. He walked to his bed, sitting down heavily as his thoughts spiraled.
"Why… why didn't I come back earlier?" he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt and frustration. His usually composed tone wavered with a mix of regret and self-blame. "Even if I had been here… could I have protected her?"
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "No… no, I couldn't have," he muttered bitterly. "Without strength… without power… I'm nothing in this world. Only power matters."
His gaze darkened, and a faint, hollow laugh escaped his lips. The sound echoed in the quiet room, but it wasn't his usual laugh. It was low, unsettling, and filled with bitterness.
"Truly… only strength matters, huh?" he said mockingly to himself, his voice dripping with disdain.
The laugh continued, growing louder, but there was no joy in it. Suddenly, it stopped, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. Yan Zi's expression hardened, his brows furrowing as a fierce anger took over.
"Why? Why does it have to be this way?" he growled, his voice trembling with rage. "Why does power dictate everything? Why must I be so helpless?"
He slammed his fist into the bed, his breathing heavy and erratic. His bright blue eyes burned with a fiery determination as a single thought echoed in his mind.
"I won't stay like this. Not anymore."
The room seemed to still as he sat there, his anger simmering and mixing with an unyielding resolve. This wasn't just frustration—it was the beginning of something new, a flicker of rebellion against the fate that had held him back for so long.
Yan Zi sat silently on the edge of his bed, the room dimly lit by the faint glow of a single lantern. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his space ring, his fingers brushing against its cool surface. With a focused thought, the ring shimmered, and he retrieved the items he needed
Placing the herbs in front of him, Yan Zi carefully sorted through them. Though he no longer had the Fire Heart Jade to help him refine pills, he still had a wealth of medicinal herbs—each with its own unique properties. His mind raced as he examined the contents, remembering the healing and poison-curing herbs his mother had once shown him. He had also gathered some stronger, more dangerous herbs for a special purpose.
After much consideration, Yan Zi selected Bloodroot, a red herb that could enhance the potency of poison, and Nightshade Grass, known for its lethal properties. He also found Crimson Thorn and Silverleaf. The latter was used for its ability to carry energy through needles with precision, making it perfect for this task.
He took a sharp needle from his small collection and began the process. Slowly and carefully, he ground the herbs into a fine powder, making sure to preserve the potency of each one. The Bloodroot and Nightshade Grass blended together, forming a deadly concoction, while the Silverleaf and Crimson Thorn enhanced the delivery mechanism, ensuring the poison could travel efficiently when administered.
Yan Zi worked tirelessly, grinding and mixing the herbs with the precision and care of a true alchemist, despite not having the Fire Heart Jade's assistance. The work was grueling, but he knew this was the only way he could protect his mother and the people he loved. After hours of preparation, the herbs were ready.
He dipped each needle into the concoction, allowing it to absorb the poison, and then wrapped the needles carefully in a small pouch, ensuring they were secured and ready for use.
"It's done," Yan Zi murmured, his voice tinged with both exhaustion and satisfaction.
Even without cultivation, he would be able to protect his loved ones. The deadly needles, now infused with his carefully crafted poison, would serve as his weapon. His heart swelled with a new sense of resolve. He knew the strength he lacked in cultivation would never be enough to stop the dangers around them—but with this, he could fight back.
He stood up from his desk, gazing at the pouch of poisoned needles in his hand.
"Now, I'll protect them... no matter what."
And with that, he carefully stored the pouch in his robes, ready to face whatever danger lay ahead.
As Yan Zi carefully stored the pouch of poisoned needles in his robes, a sudden noise broke the silence. The faintest sound of footsteps echoed outside his door, and his body immediately tensed. His senses sharpened, every nerve on edge.
The door creaked open just slightly, revealing a shadowy figure silhouetted against the light from the hallway.
"Who's there?" Yan Zi's voice was steady, though the unease was clear in his eyes as he instinctively reached for the pouch hidden within his robes.
The figure stood still for a moment, as if evaluating him, before taking a step forward. The soft sound of their footsteps seemed unnervingly calm.
"Yan Zi," the voice that emerged was smooth and firm, carrying an air of authority. "I've been waiting for you."
The figure took another step into the room, and the door gently closed behind them, as if it had been guided by an unseen force. Yan Zi's eyes narrowed, his heartbeat quickening. The tension in the room felt almost suffocating.
His hand hovered near the pouch, ready to defend himself, but the figure's presence was oddly... familiar. Something in the air shifted as the stranger revealed their face, but Yan Zi's thoughts froze for a split second.
The guest had come. But who were they? And why did their presence send a shiver down his spine?