Sword God Supreme

Chapter 15: Despising the Wielding of Influence

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sickening sound of foreheads slamming against hardwood reverberated through the private chamber. Even battle-hardened veterans like Fu Shan and Jiang Beishan felt their stomachs churn at the sight.

Zhao Haifeng's brows knotted in agony, his hands hidden in sleeves clenching until nails drew blood. What father wouldn't seethe with hatred and anguish watching his son forced to kowtow? Yet he could only endure. The political currents swirling in this room left no room for defiance. One wrong move, and the entire Zhao Clan would be swept into an abyss of calamity.

"It ends here."

Chen Mo's voice cut through the tension, laced with unexpected weariness. When he'd left Immortal Guest Tower yesterday, he'd anticipated Zhao Tianhua's retaliation. But never had he imagined the conflict would resolve itself while he merely sat here. This hollow victory brought no satisfaction.

Fu Shan exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing. He'd braced for Zhao Haifeng's potential eruption throughout the confrontation. Thank the heavens it hadn't come to pass.

"Our... gratitude for Young Master Chen's mercy!" Zhao Haifeng rasped, bowing so low his spine creaked.

"I said I despise wielding influence as a weapon," Chen Mo's gaze pinned the clan leader, "But today... fortune smiles upon you." He rose, striding toward the exit. Had he personally intervened, heads would have rolled. A pity these men would never comprehend how narrowly they'd escaped death. Otherwise, they'd be weeping with relief at drawing breath.

"Old Zhao," Fu Shan's icy warning followed Chen Mo out, "Extinguish any thought of future vengeance. Unless you wish to gamble with every life in the Zhao Clan." He hurried after the retreating figure.

"Choose your path wisely," Jiang Beishan added grimly, the amusement in his eyes long extinguished.

Silence swallowed the chamber, leaving only Zhao Haifeng, his disgraced heir Zhao Tianhua, and the ashen-faced Zhao Yin. The clan leader swayed, collapsing into a chair like a puppet with severed strings. His eyes turned glassy, decades of vitality draining from his face in moments.

"Father..." Zhao Tianhua choked out, tears carving crimson paths through the blood caking his shattered forehead. Beside him, Zhao Yin clutched his mangled hand, skin waxen from blood loss.

"A single misstep... nearly doomed us for generations..." Zhao Haifeng's voice scraped like gravel when he finally spoke. "Remember this, son. Until you stand as a Grandmasteror rise among the Princes and Marquis... vengeance must never cross your mind." Utter exhaustion weighted his final words.

"Patriarch, are we truly yielding?" Zhao Yin's eyes burned with rebellion.

Zhao Haifeng snapped upright, his glare lethal. "Dare disrupt this peace, and I will purge you from the clan myself."

Zhao Yin froze into silence. In that suffocating moment, the frivolous heir Zhao Tianhua finally grasped life's cruelest lesson: even the mighty Zhao Clan could be brought to its knees. And the architect of their humiliation? That very same Chen Mo—the crippled, ridiculed live-in son-in-law of the Li Family. How could a pariah command such terrifying power?

As Chen Mo descended the stairs, a portly man in brocade robes materialized, bowing with unctuous deference.

"I knewYoung Master Chen would emerge unscathed!" gushed Yao Hai, owner of the establishment. Gone was the earlier schadenfreude, replaced by feverish obsequiousness.

"Your tower's reputation is indeed... resilient," Chen Mo remarked dryly, noting the pristine furnishings.

Yao Hai flushed crimson. "Your jest shames me! To atone, your patronage here shall be forever complimentary!"

Chen Mo offered a noncommittal hum, sweeping past without pause. Fu Shan and Jiang Beishan trailed close.

"Commissioner Fu, Captain Jiang," Yao Hai scrambled to salute.

"Had harm befallen Young Master Chen," Fu Shan threw back without turning, "I'd have razed this tower myself."

Only when the trio vanished into the street did Yao Hai straighten, mopping sweat from his brow. His heart still hammered against his ribs. Had I known that cripple held such power...The thought echoed, unanswered and unnerving.

"Commissioner Fu, Young Master Chen, I take my leave if there's nothing further," Jiang Beishan stated formally.

Fu Shan nodded. "Guard today's affairs closely."

As Jiang Beishan turned to go, Chen Mo's voice halted him. "Captain Jiang, your son... shows promise."

Jiang Beishan's stride hitched imperceptibly. He didn't look back, but a rare smile touched his lips as he continued. His son Jiang Teng, who'd chosen integrity over expediency, didshow promise indeed. All of Linfeng City misjudged Chen Mo,he mused. Who could guess he was Princess Yunzhu's confidant? But Teng... Teng earned his favor. This connection must be nurtured...

"By now, Young Master Chen must have discerned Princess Yunzhu's identity?" Fu Shan inquired respectfully once they were alone.

Chen Mo inclined his head. "I merely didn't anticipate her surveillance. Else, Commissioner Fu might not have reached Immortal Guest Tower so promptly."

Fu Shan stiffened. "Young Master Chen misunderstands! The Princess only—"

"Explanation is unnecessary," Chen Mo interrupted. "Regardless, your intervention constitutes a debt. And I settle debts. Should you face an... intractable problem in the future, seek me." With that, he merged into the bustling crowds, a solitary figure in azure robes moving with detached grace.

What secrets does this man conceal...Fu Shan pondered, watching until the figure vanished. Questions swirled, but prudence prevailed. His immediate duty was clear: report to Princess Yunzhu.

Beneath a spreading phoenix tree, Hong Ling listened intently to Fu Shan's account. Her long legs, accentuated by her simple gown, ended in delicate slippers. Raven hair coiled carelessly revealed a face of startling beauty—high cheekbones, arched brows, and eyes like clear mountain springs. An aura of quiet authority clung to her.

"So... Master Chen attended alone? And remained utterly composed throughout?" Her starry eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Indeed, Princess. He also uttered something peculiar upon leaving," Fu Shan added carefully.

"Speak it," Hong Ling commanded, interest piqued.

"He stated he despises wielding influence as a weapon," Fu Shan quoted, "'Today, fortune smiled upon the Zhao Clan.'"

"Fortune..." Hong Ling murmured, a spark lighting her gaze. "Then even without your presence, Master Chen possessed countermeasures. He knows my identity now?"

"He does, Princess."

"And his reaction?" Hong Ling pressed.

Fu Shan hesitated briefly. "Princess... he deduced our surveillance."

Hong Ling's breath caught. "Was he angered?"

"Not outwardly," Fu Shan reassured. "He acknowledged the assistance and offered future aid should I encounter... insoluble difficulties."

Hong Ling nodded slowly. "You may withdraw, Uncle Fu."

Xiao Yuanshan, looking markedly healthier than days prior, poured tea with serene elegance. He chuckled as Hong Ling entered.

"I overheard. Fu Shan's intervention likely spared the Zhao Clan a bloodbath. Master Chen's hand would have been far less forgiving."

Hong Ling bit her lip. "Grandfather... all our inquiries confirm Master Chen is no hidden immortal sage. He's merely the Li Family's discarded live-in son-in-law. Why hold him in such esteem?"

Xiao Yuanshan set down his cup, his gaze turning profound. "Age teaches that titles, power, influence—they are dust. True worth lies in wisdom, insight, and attainment." He leaned forward. "His skill and perception during my crisis... they spoke of depths unimaginable in an outsider. Yet his surface identity contradicts this utterly. Thatis the true mystery. Thatis what demands reverence."

Seeing lingering doubt, he gestured to his revitalized frame. "Doubt his methods? This body, days from death's embrace, now thrives by his prescriptionalone. Such power transcends mere mortal labels."

Hong Ling conceded. "The medicinal decoction's efficacy is undeniable."

Xiao Yuanshan's expression sobered. "Remember tomorrow's meeting, child. Utmost respect. No lapse."

Hong Ling sighed in mock exasperation. "Must you repeat it endlessly? Do I seem so undisciplined?"

Xiao Yuanshan's laughter filled the room. "Indulge an old man reborn! Facing death's door, only to be pulled back by Master Chen's hand... this joy needs voicing!"