Shen Feng wasn't a bad kid. Itachi could admit that much.
Shen Feng respected his elders, treated the clan's traditions with proper reverence, and, above all, worshipped him like a deity. From the moment they were children, the boy had followed him everywhere like an overeager puppy.
If Itachi went to practice his sword forms, Shen Feng was there, trying (and failing) to imitate his every move. If Itachi meditated, Shen Feng would squat next to him and inevitably fall asleep, snoring loud enough to wake the entire hall.
The problem, however, wasn't with how Shen Feng treated him or the clan members. No, the real issue was how he treated the rest of the world.
When it came to outsiders, Shen Feng acted like a walking, talking cliché of every spoiled young master Itachi had ever read about in his past life's cultivation novels.
Boastful, reckless, and quick to anger, Shen Feng had a habit of throwing his weight around wherever he went. Worse yet, his little entourage of sycophants and troublemakers encouraged his every move, hyping him up as they lived out their wild fantasies through him.
Itachi let out a tired sigh as he adjusted the sleeves of his freshly changed, comfortable robes. If his past life as a reader had taught him anything, his brother was the type of character destined to get beaten down by a protagonist in the first five chapters.
"…Unfortunately, I don't know which protagonist it'll be, but I'd rather not let things get that far," Itachi muttered under his breath, shaking his head. His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he tied his sword to his waist, the blade lightly clinking against the scabbard. "If I don't handle this, one of these days, Feng is going to offend the wrong person and drag the entire clan down with him and even him."
If it was a simple brawl then Itachi could let it go, after all, that brat would deserve it. But people in these world, especially, the ones with the protagonist halo were complete assholes. If it came to it, they would like at the very least destroy his dantian or worse, kill him.
With a brother like him, Itachi truly understood what the villains in these cultivation novels felt. Of course, he loved his brother and if someone really harmed to a degree that's bad for no reason that running his mouth, he would inevitably be angry enough to kill whoever that person was.
Leading to the whole, one comes after another scenario.
As far as he was concerned, he would rather not give the protagonist a RPG level
The guards stationed at the gate earlier mentioned something about a local bar where Shen Feng and his friends often gathered to create their usual chaos. The Drunken Pig, they'd said. A charming name, to be sure.
Itachi made his way through the bustling streets of Everglow City, his strides steady and measured. Despite his casual pace, his mere presence caused ripples wherever he passed.
The long black robes, the refined air, the sword tied at his waist, and the faint smile on his sharp, jade-like face—all of it screamed elegance and untouchable confidence. People couldn't help but turn their heads.
The whispers started immediately.
"That's Shen Itachi, isn't it? The adopted son of the Shen Clan?" (A/N: People outside the clan still know him as Shen, not Uchiha)
"He's back? I heard he was running away to another kingdom with some clan's princess!"
"Your mother's running away!" A woman retorted.
"He looks even more handsome than before…" a girl murmured to her friend, her cheeks flushed.
"Bah! What's the point of being handsome when his cultivation is only on the rise because he's hoarded all the clan's resources. If it was me, I'd have succeeded much further." one bitter young man hissed, only to stop talking after receiving several glares from nearby girls.
Itachi, for his part, didn't react to the growing buzz. He had grown used to this over the years. The girls' admiration, the boys' envy, and the endless speculations about his talent and progress—it was all part of life as the Shen Clan's so-called "rising star."
He let the whispers wash over him like wind through the trees, his calm and aloof demeanor only making him seem more untouchable.
If anyone here truly hated him, they'd have no choice but to grind their teeth in silence. In Everglow City, there were only a handful of people who could match him in cultivation, and none of them were foolhardy enough to try. The others could only pray their teeth survived the constant gnashing.
As he rounded a corner, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash.
The sound came from up ahead, where a large crowd had already gathered in the middle of the street. Voices shouted, pots clanged, and the distinct sound of splintering wood echoed from the scene. Itachi could feel the familiar mix of annoyance and resignation bubbling up in his chest.
"Let me guess," he said to himself as he calmly approached the crowd, parting it effortlessly with his presence alone. "Shen Feng…"
When he reached the front of the gathering, the situation became immediately clear.
Standing in the middle of the chaos, Shen Feng looked down at Xiao Chen, a sneer plastered across his face. The sight of the so-called "young master" of the Xiao Clan sprawled in the dirt, clutching his side like a beaten dog, filled Shen Feng with a twisted sense of satisfaction. This pathetic excuse for a cultivator—a cripple, no less—dared to insult not just him but his clan and to top it all off, he was engaged to Mo Qingyun, the most stunning beauty in all of Everglow City.
The thought alone made his blood boil. Not because Shen Feng wanted Mo Qingyun for himself—they were friends growing up but he wasn't stupid enough to think he stood a chance with someone like her—but because the audacity of a loser like Xiao Chen being promised to her was an insult to every cultivator in the world.
The Xiao Clan was on the verge of collapse, a shadow of its former glory, and Xiao Chen? He couldn't even cultivate properly! His dantian had shattered years ago, leaving him unable to progress beyond a ordinary mortal. And yet, because of some ancient marriage pact between the Xiao and Mo Clans, Xiao Chen had a claim to something Shen Feng could only dream of.
It wasn't fair. Not at all.
"You think you're worthy of her?" Shen Feng spat, his voice dripping with disdain. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his entourage of sycophants chuckled at his every word.
"You? A cripple? If not for your family's outdated promises, even the ants wouldn't bother stepping on you! And you dare talk about my clan!"
Xiao Chen, still clutching his side where Shen Feng had kicked him moments ago, remained silent. His face flushed with humiliation, but his trembling lips held back whatever he wanted to say.
"Hey, Brother Feng! Maybe we should teach him another lesson," one of Shen Feng's lackeys said with a snicker, stepping forward to loom over Xiao Chen. "Break a leg this time, huh?"
The crowd, which had gathered to watch the commotion, murmured among themselves. Some pitied Xiao Chen, but most simply watched in silence, unwilling to intervene. No one wanted to offend a young master of the Shen Clan, even one as unruly as Shen Feng.
Just as Shen Feng prepared to mock Xiao Chen further, he felt a sharp smack on the back of his head.
"Who dares—?!" Shen Feng spun around, his voice filled with anger. But as soon as his eyes landed on the figure behind him, the words died in his throat. His haughty demeanour vanished into thin air, replaced by a mix of panic and shame.
"B-Brother! You're back!" Shen Feng mumbled like he would begin rapping any moment from now.
Standing there, arms folded and lazily glaring at him, was Itachi.
His dark eyes, sharp as blades, stared down at Shen Feng with a faint, disapproving smile. His younger brother's antics weren't exactly unexpected, but the brat's arrogance had only grown worse in the years he'd been away.
"You brat!" Itachi said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "It seems like you've had quite some fun while I was away. Growing up like a bull, I see."
Shen Feng took a nervous step back, scratching the back of his head. "N-No, Brother, it's not like that! I was just—"
"And even your snot-faced friends seem to have grown up. From piglets… to pigs."
The insult hit Shen Feng's entourage like a thunderbolt. The four boys instantly dropped to their knees, clasping their fists and bowing low.
"Brother Itachi! W-Welcome back!" they stammered in unison, their voices trembling.
Itachi raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Brother?" he repeated, his tone flat. "I don't recall having so many brothers. Are you pigs volunteering yourselves for a butchering?"
"W-We apologize, Master Itachi!" the boys cried, their foreheads almost touching the dirt as they bowed even lower.
Itachi let out a quiet chuckle, amused by how easily they folded under pressure. Having had his fun, he walked past them and crouched down in front of Xiao Chen, extending a hand to help him up.
"This little friend," Itachi said, his voice softening as he spoke to Xiao Chen. "I apologize for my brother's behaviour. He's still a little rough around the edges, so I hope you won't hold a resentment against him. I'll be sure to discipline my idiot of a brother."
"B-Brother…" Shen Feng stammered, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. "Why are you apologizing to him of all people?"
Shen Feng wasn't the only one confused. The onlookers, who had been quietly watching the scene, now broke into hushed murmurs.
"Why is the genius of the Shen Clan apologizing to that loser?"
"Did Xiao Chen save his life or something?"
"Ridiculous. Even the ants in this city have more respect than Xiao Chen!"
Itachi ignored the whispers, his focus remaining on Xiao Chen.