Chapter Seventy-Seven: Jiang Ziyang's Secret

Everyone was shocked and alarmed to see Jiang Ziyang collapse. A cluster of people quickly carried him inside.

The steward who usually tended to Jiang Ziyang’s ailments immediately took his pulse. His face changed dramatically, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“How is my father? What’s happened to him?” Jiang Liuying asked anxiously.

The steward didn’t answer, but his expression grew even more grim. He had never seen Jiang Ziyang so gravely wounded before.

“Su Ye, Miss Jiang—”

At that moment, Ouyang Yunfeng entered from outside. Although he had also been present in the chaos just now, his clothes were spotless, and even his shoes were immaculately clean.

“Young Master—” Many of the Jiang family’s martial artists greeted him respectfully.

“No need for courtesy! I saw that the head of the Jiang family appears to be injured. I brought some apothecaries with me this time—would you like them to take a look?”

Ouyang Yunfeng had brought several martial artists to help settle matters, and to guard against any mishap, he had also brought along several skilled apothecaries.

Since they were brought by Ouyang Yunfeng, the household naturally ushered them in at once.

“Thank you, Young Master! Please, invite the apothecaries in!”

At the family’s call, four figures entered from the main gate. Three were elderly apothecaries, men whose skill was so renowned that they seldom intervened in ordinary ailments, and their patients were exclusively martial artists.

Their faces were familiar to all present, for in all of Yang City, these venerable apothecaries were famous indeed.

“Ah! It’s Apothecary Tu, whose hands are second to none—please, come in!” At the sight of the white-haired elder, the entire Jiang household was overjoyed. With Apothecary Tu’s intervention, surely a solution could be found.

Apothecary Tu was unassuming and soon seated himself beside Jiang Ziyang to begin his examination.

Given his seniority and reputation, everyone waited in silence, fearing even the slightest disturbance might distract him.

But after only a moment of taking Jiang Ziyang’s pulse, Apothecary Tu’s brows furrowed deeply, a flash of astonishment passing through his eyes.

Watching from the side, Su Ye felt his heart sink. During his three years of disgrace, he had secretly read countless medical texts, not only from the Jiang family but from far and wide, desperate to cure himself.

He could tell how grave Jiang Ziyang’s condition was. Jiang Ziyang had long suffered from old injuries, but today, to fight, he’d forced out his latent power with a forbidden blood-needle technique, raising his cultivation forcibly for a brief time.

Such a method was considered a forbidden art, and the price was severe.

Jiang Liuying’s eyes brimmed with tears, her delicate shoulders trembling uncontrollably. Her pale hands were clasped tightly in a gesture of prayer.

She seemed to be struggling to keep from breaking down in sobs.

“Liuying, don’t worry! Your father has merely exhausted all the energy in his meridians, suffering the backlash. His old injuries have flared up, and he’s temporarily unable to move his limbs. But his life isn’t in danger—don’t be afraid.” Su Ye, seeing Jiang Liuying’s distress, offered comfort.

Apothecary Tu had just finished his examination and looked up in surprise at Su Ye’s words. “You saw through it as well? Indeed—the head of the Jiang family’s condition is grave. Forgive my bluntness, but does he harbor some secret that has caused these old wounds to flare? I suspect these injuries have been with him for decades, rooted to the bone…”

The crowd shivered at his words.

Could it be Jiang Ziyang was beyond saving?

Jiang Liuying immediately said, “What secret is there about my father’s condition? I don’t know. Steward, do you know of any secrets?”

The chief steward shook his head. “Miss, I know nothing of any secrets. The master never spoke of his old wounds…”

“Perhaps now is not the time to speak of it. For now, let me stabilize his condition with a medicinal pill.” Apothecary Tu slowly had someone bring pen and paper, and began writing. “I can only preserve his life for now—he’ll be safe for a hundred days. If you want to try further, there is a place I know of that might hold hope for such strange ailments…”

“Please, Apothecary Tu, tell us!” Jiang Liuying asked urgently.

“Try your luck at ‘One Pill Residence.’ If they’re willing to help, there may be hope,” Apothecary Tu said gravely.

One Pill Residence?

Su Ye was not unfamiliar with that name. When he was at his lowest, he’d once sought a life-saving pill from them, but was refused entry at the very gates.

They had no connection to One Pill Residence—was it truly possible to seek aid from them so abruptly?

Ouyang Yunfeng spoke in a low voice: “I happen to be going to One Pill Residence in the next couple of days. If you wish to come, follow along. However, One Pill Residence is not part of our Martial Alliance. Whether or not they’ll show me any favor is uncertain.”

“Very well! Thank you, Young Master—we’ll bring our utmost sincerity in pleading for a pill!” Su Ye replied.

Ouyang Yunfeng looked at Su Ye in surprise, then at the others, and said, “There are some words I’d like to speak to you alone. Will you walk with me?”

Su Ye hadn’t expected such courtesy from the Young Master, nor such lack of arrogance. Besides, they owed much to the Martial Alliance this time, so he readily agreed.

The two of them walked slowly to the rear garden of the Jiang estate, where the faint scent of blood still lingered in the air.

After a moment’s silence, Ouyang Yunfeng suddenly spoke. “Tonight will be a sleepless night.”

Su Ye understood his meaning. Though their show of force had cowed the three rival families earlier, the true purge would begin tonight. An event so momentous would leave every great house in Yang City restless and awake.

“Yes. They brought this upon themselves—their fate was sealed,” Su Ye said, without a trace of pity.

Ouyang Yunfeng stopped and looked Su Ye in the eye, his tone grave. “Su Ye, you saved my life, and I owe it to you to help as much as I can. But you must understand, human strength has its limits. Some matters must not be pursued further—you’ll die if you do.”

“You mean the Thunder Vein?” Su Ye understood immediately.

“That’s right. The old crone of the Yu family took your Thunder Vein to seek the legendary Thunder City. It’s true! But that place—there is no way to find it. Do you know how I came to inherit the title of Young Master? My elder brother was superior to me in every respect, but in the end, he gave up his position to search for the fabled Thunder City. He and those with him never returned.”

Ouyang Yunfeng sighed as he spoke, unable to conceal his emotion.

Su Ye clenched his fists in silence. He hadn’t imagined the former Young Master of the Martial Alliance had also gone in search of Thunder City.

What was it about Thunder City that held such allure?

“Do you know where Thunder City is?” Su Ye pressed.

“No. I spent years searching, and found not a trace,” Ouyang Yunfeng shook his head.

Su Ye studied his expression, unsure whether Ouyang Yunfeng spoke the truth.

“For now, I don’t want to think about the Thunder Vein. Let’s wait until the head of the Jiang family recovers.”

“Very well, let’s first save the family head, and speak of the rest later.” Ouyang Yunfeng sighed helplessly. He knew everyone had their own obsessions. If he were treated as Su Ye had been, he too would pursue revenge to the ends of the earth.

That night, just as Ouyang Yunfeng predicted, none of the great families of Yang City found sleep.

The industries of the Yu, Zhou, and Ou families were swiftly swallowed up, especially their secret underworld dealings, which were ruthlessly divided.

With the downfall of the three families, the name of the Jiang family spread like wildfire, intimidating all of Yang City. At the same time, Su Ye’s name quickly became known to every martial artist in the city.

Such a dazzling youth, rising so swiftly, now had the power to sway the fate of the entire city.

That night, Su Ye returned to his room, bathed thoroughly, and checked his wounds. The Thunder Sword still rested where he’d left it, but he had no mind to touch it.

Just then, he heard soft footsteps outside his door, followed by a hesitant knocking.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, open up.” It was Jiang Liuying’s voice.

Su Ye opened the door to find the young lady standing there in an adorably childish rabbit-patterned pajama set, hugging a large pillow, looking pitiful as she stood at the threshold.

“What is it?”

“I…I can’t sleep…”