Chapter 47: No Guilt, No Betrayal
The words exchanged between Mu Feng and Mu Yu drew the attention of numerous Mu family members who had gathered nearby. Soon, a crowd of onlookers encircled the scene, eager to witness the unfolding drama. Among them were seasoned elders and younger disciples alike.
"Mu Yu is back! It's been a year since we last saw him," someone murmured.
"Last time, he had already broken through to the Purple Mansion realm. After another year at Cangling Martial Academy, who knows how strong he is now?"
"Mu Yu and Mu Li are close. It seems he's here to help Mu Li get even after Mu Feng embarrassed him last time. This should be interesting!"
Clearly, Mu Yu's reputation preceded him. Among the Mu family, he was regarded as a prodigy and a rising star.
A Rising Tension
Mu Feng frowned, his sword-like brows knitting together. He had no desire for unnecessary conflict, especially within his family. Yet, faced with Mu Yu's open challenge and Mu Li's sneering provocation, he knew he couldn't back down.
"Fine," Mu Feng replied evenly, "but tomorrow."
The long journey back had drained much of his stamina, and he wasn't about to engage in a duel on unfavorable terms.
Mu Yu's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Very well. Tomorrow at noon, I'll wait for you in the family's martial arena. Be warned, Feng Shaoye, fists and blades are blind in battle. Don't expect me to go easy on you."
Mu Li chimed in with a sinister grin. "You're done for this time, Mu Feng."
Mu Feng's gaze swept past him as though he were invisible. "We'll see."
As he turned to leave, Mu Kuang followed close behind. However, before leaving earshot, he couldn't resist throwing a final jab at Mu Li. "Just wait and watch. You'll find out what despair really feels like."
Preparations for Battle
Back at his residence, Mu Lan returned with a small pouch of Peiyuan Pills, the family's monthly cultivation stipend. Each Mu family disciple was allotted one pill per month, but Mu Feng, as a main branch heir, received three. Having missed two months, he now had six pills in total.
"Feng Shaoye, these are for you," Mu Lan said cheerfully.
"Thank you," Mu Feng replied, pocketing the pills. Retreating to his training chamber, he sat cross-legged and began cultivating.
He swallowed one pill and activated the Shura Sutra. Within moments, the medicinal energy coursed through his meridians, transforming into a stream of pure Yuan energy. In mere breaths, the pill was entirely refined—an astonishing speed compared to the half-hour most cultivators required.
"Truly incredible…" Mu Feng mused. With each pill consumed, his Qi Cyclone grew denser. By the time he finished his third pill, his energy reserves were restored to their peak.
Morning Training
The first rays of dawn found Mu Feng awake and active. Exhaling a long stream of misty white breath, he stood and stretched. Each movement was accompanied by a series of crisp pops from his joints.
Stepping into the courtyard, Mu Feng began experimenting with the Golden Finger Strike, a martial skill he had recently acquired.
Directing his Yuan energy into his fingers, he struck at the training post.
Thud! Thud!
Shallow indentations appeared in the wood, and a sharp pain shot through his fingers. Gritting his teeth, he continued striking, his fingertips soon raw and bloody.
"Foolish boy," Xi Yue's voice chimed in his mind. "There's a better way to train."
"Oh? What is it?" Mu Feng paused, curious.
"Use scalding iron sand to temper your fingers, then soak your hands in a solution of tiger bone grass. It'll expedite your progress tenfold."
Mu Feng nodded thoughtfully. Tiger bone grass was a second-tier herb renowned for its restorative properties. With this method, he could refine the Golden Finger Strike far faster.
A Duel Approaches
After a sparring session with Mu Lan to loosen up, Mu Feng prepared for the day's main event. The family's martial arena was already bustling by the time he arrived. Over a hundred spectators gathered to witness the confrontation, ranging from eager youths to seasoned warriors.
Standing tall in the center of the elevated platform was Mu Yu, his blue robes fluttering in the winter breeze. The air was thick with anticipation.
"There he is—Mu Feng has arrived!" someone shouted as Mu Feng and his entourage approached.
Mu Li sneered. "You're going to regret showing up."
Without so much as a glance, Mu Feng ascended the platform in a single fluid leap, landing lightly across from Mu Yu.
The Battle of Words
Mu Yu studied Mu Feng, his expression cool and calculating. "If you apologize to Mu Li now, we can end this matter here."
Mu Feng's response was calm but firm. "If I've done wrong, I'll apologize. But I've done nothing wrong, and I won't bow to anyone."
The conviction in his voice sent a ripple through the crowd. Even Mu Yu's composure faltered for a moment.
"Suit yourself," Mu Yu said coldly, assuming a battle stance. "Let's see if your actions can match your arrogance."
The tension in the arena was palpable as the two squared off. Mu Feng's black robes fluttered in the wind, his long hair flowing like a dark river. In his eyes burned an unyielding resolve.
"Let the fight begin!" someone called.
And with that, the duel was on.