Chapter Ninety-Seven: It's My Turn Now

Watching as no one could match Qing Xiu, Gu Zhiheng couldn’t help but smile; this was exactly the effect he wanted. Qing Xiu had finished—now it was his turn to step into the arena.

But he was no Qing Xiu. While she might occasionally go easy on them, he would break their bones without hesitation.

“Qing Xiu, come watch carefully and enjoy the show. Now it’s my turn!” He sprang up from the lounge chair and stood before them.

Several of them looked pale. What was Gu Zhiheng planning—beating them to death outright? One Qing Xiu was already terrifying; now with Gu Zhiheng stepping in personally, would they even survive?

Since his rebellion recovery, his cultivation had soared to an unknown degree. Even if they teamed up against him, they might not stand a chance. Was he really going to be this ruthless?

“Don’t just stand there looking scared. If you’re not afraid of ending up killed by that Red-Tailed Fox and Chu Zhao’an, then sit back and rest!” His words were harsh, yet brutally honest.

“Hurry up, come one by one, in the original order—no more whining.” After snapping at a few, he scowled, waiting for them to approach.

He was somewhat familiar with the others, but Chu Zhaoting was different. Since they hadn’t interacted much before, Chu was going to get beaten badly.

Especially since Chu had initially misunderstood him and refused to listen to his explanations; today, he would make him pay dearly.

What was this if not a guise for training but actually settling personal scores?

But what else could he do? This was how it had to be—to make them face reality.

Growth depended on hard work, not empty talk.

“Hey, can you please…” Before Chu could finish, Gu Zhiheng’s first strike landed on him, and Chu emitted a muffled grunt.

Good grief!

Gu Zhiheng’s attack was unbelievably fast!

No one saw how he moved, yet Chu, standing right there, was hit without a chance to defend.

It was a disaster beyond words.

“Doesn’t Ah Heng’s attack feel familiar? It’s not recorded in ancient texts, nor is it from the Gu family,” Liu E said, wincing as he watched—it was a bit too brutal.

“It’s not his master’s technique either; he just goes by instinct. So you’re in for a rough time!” Qing Xiu, eating watermelon in the lounge chair, replied, silencing the others.

No wonder master and disciple never followed the usual rules—just instinct and mood, both unconventional.

With this style, how could they spar with the pair? It was a one-sided massacre.

“Look closely, there are flaws. My master didn’t even use his full strength.” Listen to that—does that sound like reason?

Chu Zhaoting was still lying on the ground, unable to get up, and that was called not using full strength?

Please, if Gu Zhiheng really exerted himself, what would happen?

Was it too late to regret now?

They had truly underestimated him, mistakenly thinking his rise was gradual, not realizing he had surpassed them several times over at once.

And that little one beside him eating watermelon? A battle maniac, ruthless in every strike.

With this master and disciple duo, they might as well head off on their own northwest journey. What use were they now—just to serve tea and water?

There are many ways to insult someone, but this was the most direct, the most merciless.

“Oh, I told you to be quick, why are you dawdling?” He said, then kicked someone flying.

The others twitched at the corner of their mouths—he was utterly detestable.

“Forget it, let’s eat first; we’ll continue this afternoon.” Stretching lazily, he walked over to Qing Xiu.

This guy had finished his watermelon in no time.

“Kids shouldn’t drink alcohol; watermelon’s enough.” He lightly slapped Qing Xiu’s hand, snatching the bottle away.

Glancing at the management bureau, it had been cleaned up overnight—quite efficient.

“Will we eat here or outside? Two hours only.” Gu Zhiheng now gave off the vibe of a ruthless drill sergeant.

They rubbed their foreheads—two hours was far too short!

It took an hour just to get outside and back to buy eggs; with meal time, they’d have no rest at all.

“I know you’re too lazy to cook or go out, so I had food delivered.” See how thoughtful he was, even prepared meals for them.

Looking back at his old self—going days without eating, fasting daily or absorbing spiritual energy from the world—this was a huge improvement.

Their expressions should have brightened, yet they still looked utterly despondent.

“Just eat simply. I used to have no food at all; you’re much luckier.” He invited everyone to eat but moved aside himself.

He truly appreciated their choice to follow him, but for their safety, he had no choice but to be so harsh.

Whether they understood or blamed him didn’t matter—as long as they could protect themselves.

He bought six meals—none for himself.

He didn’t want to eat, didn’t need to, and soon wouldn’t have to.

“I’m going out for a bit; take your time eating. I’ll be back on schedule.” After the reminder, he disappeared in an instant.

The others ate slowly, still shaken from the earlier beating; even eating felt difficult.

“Qing Xiu, do you know where your master went?” Liu E felt Gu Zhiheng had been acting mysteriously lately, probably secretly doing something else.

But they found no clues—no idea what he was busy with.

“I don’t know! Master said it’s no one else’s business.” Qing Xiu replied, lowering her head obediently to her meal.

She was right; her master had indeed said that. She truly didn’t know what he was up to.

The midday sun was still warm as Gu Zhiheng stood alone atop a hill, eyes fixed on the mountain-top villas not far away, his expression distant and uneasy.

The Wu family—what were they plotting?

Chu Zhao’an—why did she want the Chu family jade token?

Jing Shushu clearly had fallen out with Chu Zhao’an, so why was she involved?

So many tangled matters, all a chaotic mess. What did these people truly want?

“I thought you wouldn’t come, but you’re quite early!” The visitor was Wu Xiaowen, accompanied by a boy of about eighteen or nineteen.

“Greetings, sir!” The boy looked ordinary but carried an unusual aura.

“No need for formalities. Did you bring it?” Gu Zhiheng’s face was cold and unwelcoming; Wu Xiaowen had grown accustomed to this side of him.

“Yes, Xiao Liu.” Wu Xiaowen called to the boy, signaling him to hand over the item to Gu Zhiheng.