Green Jade City…

The Gold Tree Inn which is not far from the Khan family auction house, was bathed in the faint amber glow of spirit lamps.

Inside a private room, sat Dong Xian, the old patriarch of the Dong family, his silver brows knitted tightly. Across from him, his granddaughter Lianhua poured tea into his cup, her hands delicate yet tense.

It had been hours since Dong Ming, the young master, had left with Shadow Fang to deliver a warning to that Han family boy, Mo Han. Yet, no word had come back.

Dong Xian's left eye twitched violently again.

"Grandfather… please don't overthink," Lianhua said softly, her voice like the brushing of silk. "Ming-ge is not a reckless child. He will return soon."

The old man's gaze remained fixed on the untouched tea. "Lianhua… my left eye has been twitching thrice in short intervals. This… is an omen. A disaster omen. You are still young; you don't understand what this means."

"But…" she tried again, forcing a smile that failed to hide her own unease.

Dong Xian exhaled heavily, his fingers tightening on his cane. "No… I cannot just sit here and wait. If something has happened to Ming, I will regret it until my dying breath."

He rose abruptly. The weight of his presence pressed against the room, shaking the very spirit lamp flame. He called his servants loudly.

Moments later, eight armored servants entered, each holding a spear. Without delay, Dong Xian and Lianhua stepped out into the night, began searching the dark streets of Green Jade City before vanishing beyond the city gates.

—

Far away from the Green Jade city…

The night wind howled over the barren Mountain Desert, carrying with it the faint cries of nocturnal beasts. Hidden in a hollow surrounded by boulders, Mo Han and his two companions had stopped for rest.

The mountain eagle perched silently on a high rock, its golden eyes scanning the horizon, while the spirit crane rested beside the camp, folding its long neck gracefully.

Jia Kai and Fatty Lambu, exhausted from the day's travel, had fallen asleep almost instantly. Their breathing filled the small hollow with a faint rhythm.

Yet Mo Han remained awake, leaning against a boulder with his sword across his knees, eyes sharp and alert. He knew better than to trust silence in the wilderness. He had fought too many battles to let fatigue dull his senses.

-

Meanwhile…

Dong Xian's search party had moved past the city outskirts, following the faint traces left by their young master.

One servant knelt, touching the ground. "Patriarch, the young master's spirit energy traces are faint here… but they seem to lead westward."

"West?" Dong Xian's brows furrowed. "That leads toward the Black Fang Valley. Why would he go there?"

They continued, their footsteps crunching over uneven rocks. The moon hung low, casting silver light upon the world.

After half an hour, the group stood at the mouth of the Black Fang Valley.

Jagged cliffs rose like broken teeth on both sides, and a chilling wind funneled through, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood.

Dong Xian's grip on his cane tightened. "Spread out. Search every crevice. Leave no stone unturned."

Blue lanterns fanned out across the valley floor. The sound of boots against rock echoed eerily.

Then—

"Patriarch! Over here!" a servant's urgent voice rang out.

Dong Xian and Lianhua rushed forward. There, under the glow of the lantern, lay a small patch of dark, glistening liquid.

Lianhua's breath caught. "Blood…"

The old man crouched, his fingers brushing the still-warm drops. The scent was unmistakable — human blood. His heart clenched.

But there were no drag marks. No footprints. No signs of a struggle. The drops simply began in the middle of the valley floor… and ended abruptly a few paces later, as if the blood fallen from sky.

"This… this is unnatural," one servant whispered, his voice trembling.

Dong Xian's eyes darkened.

Lianhua gripped her grandfather's sleeve. "Grandfather… you don't think Ming-ge is…"

"Silence!" Dong Xian barked, though his voice wavered. He stood, his aura flaring, rippling through the cold valley air like a storm about to break.

He turned to his men. "Bring more people. Comb the entire valley and surrounding ridges. If my grandson is alive, I will find him. If he is dead…" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "…I will tear apart the heavens to avenge him."

Somewhere far away, beyond the barren dunes, Mo Han sat in silence — unaware that a storm was already brewing in the heart of the Dong family, and that his name was soon to be written in blood on their list of enemies.

-

Next Day Morning…

The first rays of dawn spilled lazily over the camp where Mo Han and his companions rested. The cold desert breeze still clung stubbornly to the air, carrying with it the faint scent of dry sand and weathered stone.

Fatty Lambu's snores rumbled like a lazy war drum in the background, the sound echoing faintly against the rocky walls. It was loud enough to scare off any timid insects, but Mo Han paid it no mind. Kneeling by the side of the Spirit Crane, he gently placed a handful of honey bread. The crane's long beak clicked lightly as it pecked, its pale feathers catching the rising light.

A few steps away, the Mountain Eagle tilted its sharp head, eyeing him with a predator's patience as it waited for its share. Mo Han, with steady movements, tore strips from a piece of bread before offering them. The eagle cried out as it stepped closer, taking the offering with a dignified air.

Behind him, a soft crunch of pebbles betrayed the presence of someone approaching.

Jia Kai stood there quietly, her hair slightly messy from sleep, her eyes clear yet shadowed with questions she had been holding back since the night before. Her gaze lingered on Mo Han's back for a moment, noting the unhurried precision of his movements, the way his breathing stayed calm and steady even in the wild.

Before she could speak, Mo Han turned slightly, a faint curve of amusement on his lips.

"I suppose you've been dying to ask about yesterday's little surprises," he said in a low tone, his eyes briefly glancing at Fatty Lambu to make sure the man was still buried in dreams.

-

Tq guys!