Chapter 013: Sudden Upheaval

The seating arrangement at the family banquet was meticulously orchestrated—the more highly regarded a member was, the closer their seat to the main table. Today was the patriarch’s birthday; no one dared miss the gathering. Even Mu Zihao’s family, absent earlier from the guest banquet, now appeared.

As the Grand Elder and the father of Mu Tianyou, who had awakened the bloodline of a battle general, Mu Zihao and his son were indisputably core members, and so seated at the main table. Mu Tianyou still had to be supported by others, appearing so frail that a mere gust of wind would topple him. This prompted many to whisper that Mu Tianhen had been too harsh. Others, however, felt Mu Tianyou had brought it upon himself—he was lucky to have escaped with just injuries, considering he and his father had plotted Mu Tianhen’s death. Had it been anyone else, Mu Tianyou would already be a corpse in a coffin.

The truth was unknown to most, but Mu Tianhen and Mu Qianyuan saw through the ruse—Mu Tianyou’s feebleness was a performance. Given the lengths their branch of the family had gone over the past four years, and the countless medicines they’d hoarded, as long as he still breathed, healing would be swift.

Yet neither Mu Qianyuan nor Mu Tianhen exposed him.

The dishes were soon served, and everyone raised their cups to congratulate Mu Qianyuan, brimming with reverence. With a gesture, Mu Qianyuan bade them sit, offering words of encouragement and expressing his hope for the family’s continued prosperity and ascent to new heights.

Then the banquet began in earnest, lively and jubilant. No one noticed the flickering sharpness in the eyes of Mu Zihao and his son.

After just two cups, people began to feel dizzy and muddle-headed; the world spun, and everything blurred with double vision. Even so, no one suspected foul play—they merely thought the wine unusually potent tonight, quick to intoxicate.

Before long, one by one, they collapsed onto the table, limp and powerless—even Mu Qianyuan and the other elders were no exception.

Once everyone was down, Mu Zihao leaped to his feet, erupting in wild laughter. At length, he glared viciously at Mu Tianhen and snarled, “Mu Tianhen! You greenhorn, did you think you could outwit me? Today, I’ll send you to your grave!”

With a cold gleam in his eye, he looked to the silent, furious Mu Qianyuan and sneered, “Old Ancestor, have you lost your mind, siding with Mu Tianhen and sabotaging my plans? He’s a worthless wretch—what benefit could he possibly bring to the family? So be it. If you’re so fond of him, you can join him on the road to the afterlife—at least you’ll have company there.”

As he spoke, Mu Zihao secretly summoned his internal energy, channeling it into his palm, then struck toward Mu Qianyuan’s head. To secure victory, the most formidable had to die first—should the drug’s effects wear off, all would be lost. As for Mu Tianhen, even if he recovered, he could be crushed with a mere gesture.

But at the very moment his hand rose, fate intervened.

With a piercing whistle, an arrow tore through the air, striking Mu Zihao square in the chest before he could react, flinging him back and overturning several wooden tables.

A great torrent of blood erupted from Mu Zihao’s mouth. Instinctively, he clutched at the arrow in his chest, his face ashen, his eyes filled with confusion as he looked to the figure standing atop the courtyard wall.

“You…” He tried to speak, but managed only a single word before blood gushed forth again and he collapsed, bereft of strength to rise.

“Father!” Mu Tianyou cried out, rushing to support him and ordering the servants to administer aid. He himself glared venomously at the figure upon the wall.

“Why!” Mu Tianyou roared. “Why did you attack my father? Weren’t you supposed to help him take the family headship? Why, why have you betrayed us?”

At these words, the groggy family members instantly understood—Mu Zihao and his son were traitors, colluding with outsiders to seize the clan’s power. It also became clear that they had sought help beyond the family because they feared they might not overcome Mu Qianyuan.

Clearly, they must have promised their allies a handsome reward.

But what no one had expected was that the outsider’s first target wasn’t Mu Qianyuan, nor Mu Tianhen—it was Mu Zihao himself.

“Karma!” was the word in everyone’s heart. The clan’s hatred for Mu Zihao and his son was boundless; they silently hoped the newcomer would kill them at once, so no further chaos could arise.

“Light the torches!” barked the figure on the wall. At once, torches flared to life atop the courtyard walls, surrounding the estate with no escape in sight.

All were masked in black, clothed head to toe in the same, their features and allegiances concealed. No one could tell where they were from.

But Mu Tianhen, recognizing the leader’s voice despite the deliberate distortion, was certain—it was Gu Lingyun, the Young City Lord. No matter how he altered his tone, it could not fool Mu Tianhen’s ears.

Gu Lingyun turned to the furious Mu Tianyou and jeered, “Why? Because you’re all vermin who deserve to die! Tonight, the Mu clan will vanish from this world!”

With that, he raised his hand and swiftly dropped it.

A volley of arrows screamed through the air, all aimed at Mu Tianyou, leaving him no room to dodge.

“Break!” Mu Tianyou roared, swinging a long bench to form a makeshift shield, warding off the deadly hail. Yet the enemy’s numbers were overwhelming, their arrows seemingly endless; wave upon wave bore down upon him.

An arrow struck Mu Tianyou’s left leg, blood gushing as he staggered back, sweat beading on his brow. His movements grew labored; without help, he would soon perish in the storm of arrows.

“You’er! You’er…” Mu Zihao cried out, desperate to rush to his son’s aid. But he had lost too much blood; his will outstripped his strength, and he could only watch helplessly as the arrows rained down upon Mu Tianyou.

“No!” At the sight of an arrow hurtling straight for Mu Tianyou’s chest, Mu Zihao let out a desperate cry. Summoning a last reserve of strength, he sprang to his feet and threw himself before his son.

The arrow struck his chest again, piercing straight through in a spray of blood.

“Father!” Mu Tianyou caught the falling Mu Zihao, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at Gu Lingyun on the wall. “You—!”

Before he could finish, another arrow thudded into his back, punching through so that the arrowhead protruded from his chest, blood trickling down.

Together, father and son collapsed, blood bubbling from their mouths. They tried to speak, but no words came; they could only lean on each other, glaring at Gu Lingyun as the light ebbed from their eyes.

Gu Lingyun threw back his head and laughed, a sound sharp as daggers.

After several breaths, he ceased and proclaimed, “Tonight marks the fall of the Mu clan! At my command—draw and loose, leave no one alive!”

“What arrogance!” At that moment, Mu Tianhen erupted to his feet, an aura of might surging from within, sweeping in all directions. Sword in hand, he stood proud and unyielding, a war god descended to earth.

Gu Lingyun and the fallen Mu Zihao and his son were all stunned, unable to believe their eyes. Though only a sleeping potion had been used in the food and drink, the dosage was heavy—how could its effects fade so quickly? And why was only he unaffected?

Gu Lingyun rubbed his eyes, then shouted, “Kill him! Kill him now! Archers, loose!”

Arrows whistled once more, all aimed at Mu Tianhen.

PS: All my peers are Platinum or Grandmasters—so much pressure! I wonder if I’ll ever get a featured slot… Please, I beg for your collections, recommendations, reviews, and votes of support!