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In the study, Xu Jingzhe appeared somewhat flustered. He answered quietly, “I didn’t do it myself, but I watched him go with my own eyes. His head was cut off.”
Xu Zhiyuan’s expression improved, and he nodded slowly. “If even a whisper of this gets out, both of us are going to meet a tragic end. Now, go and get some rest. When this matter is settled, we’ll have secured half the cultivation resources we need to ascend to the Avatar stage.”
“Father, you really should drink the soup while it’s hot….”
“It’s rare for you to show such filial piety,” said Xu Zhiyuan while taking a sip of the soup. He was about to take his second when suddenly, his face turned pale, and two streams of blood—bright red and vivid—flowed from his nostrils!
He wiped his hand across his face, only to find it covered in blood. The flow was growing faster and faster as well, impossible to stop.
Xu Zhiyuan blanked out for a moment before exclaiming in shock and disbelief, “There’s poison in the soup?!”
Xu Jingzhe slowly peeled back the skin from his face to reveal Xu Jingfeng’s features. “Still don’t recognize me? I guess the disguise worked pretty well. Well, it had just been peeled off his face. It would be harder to not look like him.”
“Jingfeng? It’s you? I—I’m your father!”
“Not since the moment you handed over control of the tribute convoy to me.”
“Guards! Someone—”
Xu Jingfeng sneered and called out for him. “Guards.”
Several guards entered the study, and Xu Zhiyuan’s heart sank. These guards were not strangers; they were the very men he had sent to escort the merchant caravans. It was...
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