Special Chapter 1 Part II At first, he planned to just kill Zhao Furen, but now, with his son asking for trouble, he will let him endure the guilt of his own sins for a lifetime. Luan Sun handed a bamboo bottle to one of his subordinates, "Pour this into the kid’s mouth." "As you wish." The man took the bamboo bottlle from Luan Sun, removed the cloth stopper, and instantly, a fragrant aroma wafted out with the wind. Zhao Furen’s eyes widened in terror upon smelling it. "No! Don’t do it to him, let my child go, I’ll take the punishment. Take my life, my life!" she screamed tearfully. "You’re already destined to atone." Yong Saiweihao was forcibly fed the liquid from the bamboo bottle. Despite his struggles, how could a small child overpower a large man? The cool, tasteless liquid quickly slid down his throat, only its fragrance was perceivable. "Cough, cough, cough," Yong Saiweihao choked. He didn’t understand what they wanted or what they fed him, but the boy tried to vomit the liquid out, to no avail. Soon, his body felt alien to him. Despite trying to lift an arm or twitch a finger, he couldn’t. Why was this happening? He felt full of strength yet utterly unable to move. "Look into my eyes, boy," Luan Sun commanded sinisterly. Yong Saiweihao felt as if his body was being controlled by someone else. Slowly, he raised his head. "No! Hao’er, don’t look into his eyes!" Zhao Furen screamed in panic. Yong Saiweihao heard his mother’s scream but was unable to even blink or close his eyes. He stared into Luan Sun’s deep, dark eyes, and in that moment, his body and senses were completely dominated. Luan Sun handed a sharp, small knife to Yong Saiweihao, "Take this knife and stab it into your mother’s heart!" Hearing this, the boy’s mind violently resisted, but he couldn’t control his own body. No! How could he possibly stab his mother in the heart? Yong Saiweihao struggled to control himself, but no matter what, his small body continued to approach his mother. His subconscious mind begged him to stop, yet his body wasn’t his to control anymore. No! His hands holding the small knife trembled slightly. Tears trickled down his dirty, stained face. His mother had suffered so much pain and blood loss to give birth to him, raised him with such love and care, how could he kill her? Gradually, he stepped closer to Zhao Furen, both hands gripping the knife handle, shaking, resisting. He raised his arm to its fullest extent. The moment the knife’s tip pierced his mother’s heart, Yong Saiweihao’s body was released from control. "Mother! Mother! Sob. Hao’er didn’t mean to! Hao’er didn’t mean to stab you! Sob, Mother, don’t die, Hao’er is sorry," the trembling boy hugged his mother. Blood oozed from her chest, mixing with the tears of the little boy that fell on his mother’s cheeks. “Ha... Hao’er. M... Mother doesn’t blame you. D... don’t blame yourself. M... Mother loves you, loves you with all my heart." She wanted to hug and comfort him, wanted to wipe away his tears, but her arms were still tied, and her breaths were fading. Eventually, Zhao Furen passed away along with the shattered heart of her son. "Sob, Mother, Hao’er is sorry, Mother, please wake up, Hao’er is sorry. Sob." the little boy sobbed as if his heart was about to break. The departed do not suffer like those who remain. The little boy, hugging his mother’s body, cried bitterly, his pure heart overwhelmed by guilt, feeling as if his heart had been ripped out. "Ha, ha, ha, live on with the sin in your heart," Luan Sun laughed satisfyingly. ‘Zhao Yangshi, watch as your son grows up heartless.’ "Let’s go!" Luan Sun and his men left, leaving behind a little boy, alone and hopeless, with his mother’s corpse. This sin would follow him to his last breath, haunting this boy until the light in his eyes faded, a sin of matricide that could never be erased from his heart. Twenty-fourth year of Jingyan reign Mid-December, heavy snowfall in the capital, snowflakes fluttering everywhere, everything blanketed in white. Far from the capital, about eight li away, in the Zhao family’s ancestral cemetery, a man stood in front of Zhao Furen’s grave marker. His face seemed as if heaven had chosen its finest jade to meticulously carve. A single glance was not enough; unforgettable at first sight. Dressed in pitch-black robes contrasting with the snowflakes on his cloak, the cold wind danced the snowflakes around him. This winter, though cold to the bone, felt even colder in Yong Saiweihao’s heart. "Why must the young master blame himself?" Yang Zhuang looked at his master with pity. "The tragedy at Mingshan Mountain wasn’t your fault." Holding a bunch of pure white chrysanthemums, as pristine as the snow, Yong Saiweihao placed them in front of his mother’s grave. "Yang Zhuang, when chou hour arrives, moves our troops, take the enemy’s head and wash my mother’s grave with their blood," his sharp eyes flickered with various emotions: anger, vengeance, sorrow, pain, and grief. For a moment, Yang Zhuang felt the intense murderous aura from Yong Saiweihao, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, his sharp eyes returning to a calm stillness like an undisturbed pond. Eleven winters had passed, and now, the once little cub had grown strong and was ready to avenge the injustice of the past decade for his mother. Tomorrow night, in chou hour, 2,000 Flame Guards would march up Mingshan Mountain in the Luoliang Range, the mountain chain separating Yan Region and Tang Regions. The Flame Guards were Young General Zhao’s personal guard, trained to fight and die by their master’s side since they were young, an extraordinary unit capable of defeating ten times their number without exerting much effort, even the emperor’s personal royal guards would have to yield to them. Thousands of hoofbeats sounded like thunder, today was the day to decapitate Luan Sun and offer his head to Zhao Furen’s spirit. With a full moon, thousands of steps trampled the dust and smoke into the air, reflecting the moonlight into wisps of mist rising to the treetops. "Master, thousands of hoofbeats are coming from the base of the mountain, possibly more than 3,000." "Who dares so boldly?" Luan Sun, drunk with his soldiers, banged the table angrily and demanded. "Prepare 5,000 men to deal with them!" Luan Sun ordered. "As you command." Shu Shan led 5,000 men towards the northern base of the mountain. Who dared to challenge Luan Sun, the demon of Mingshan Mountain? Two hours later, Shu Shan with 5,000 men reached the base where dust and thunderous hoofbeats had been, only to find nothing. The expected 3,000 horses had vanished without a trace. How could 3,000 warhorses disappear without a trace, as if they could become invisible? "Brother, could they be hiding nearby?" "How could they? Even though it’s dense forest here, 3,000 horses can’t just easily be hidden." Shushan dismounted to inspect the area, intended to find footprints, but instead, he found drag marks of leaves and dust on the ground. No! He furrowed his brows in confusion. With heavy snowfall, even if the snow were melting, there shouldn’t be dust on the ground! As he observed the surrounding bushes, he discovered dusty wooden barrels, branches still adorned with green leaves, and numerous coconut broomsticks discarded by the roadside. The area was also strewn with a large number of dry leaves and branches dragged over. "We’ve been deceived!" Their judgment clouded by alcohol consumed on the mountain, they failed to think carefully and fell for the enemy’s trick. The enemy used barrels filled with dust, scattering it on the ground and then using leaves to spread it into the air, reflecting the moonlight from above. They simulated the sound of galloping horses and the dust stirred by many warhorses using coconut broomsticks and large branches. In reality, there were never 3,000 warhorses to begin with. "Back! Retreat to the mountain quickly!" But as soon as the order was given, flaming arrows flew towards them from all directions. Once the fire hit the dry leaves and branches, the area became engulfed in flames, causing chaos among the war horses. The 5,000 troops were either shot by arrows, trampled by horses, or burnt by fire, the others scattering in all directions. Meanwhile, Yong Saiweihao led 1,500 Flame Guards in an attack on the mountain bandits’ camp. The mountain bandit Luan Sun, who had been a nightmare for travelers, was caught off guard in his house when he heard footsteps approaching. "Is that you, Shu Shan? How did it go? Who dared to attack us?" "The one who will send you to hell." Startled, Luan Sun jumped up when he saw the man entering his house without any followers and realized his men must have met their doom. "Zhao Yong Saiweihao?" "Not seen for many years, you’re as depraved as ever." Luan Sun burst into laughter upon seeing the man before him, "Ha, ha, ha! You’re here. Are you ready to join your mother in death?" "I’ve come to take you with me." "You first," Luan Sun attempted to control Yong Saiweihao with his gaze, but when his dark eyes met those sharp ones, his spirit shook with fear. Yong Saiweihao had grown too strong. Seeing his control failing, Luan Sun drew his sword to fight. Luan Sun had been a mountain bandit for many years, gaining a reputation as the most formidable in the region. How could his martial skills be ordinary? He launched an attack immediately, his sword technique fierce and powerful, aiming for the lethal points of his opponent. Yet, it was strange that no matter what technique he used, Yong Saiweihao could always dodge his blade. A murderous aura emanated from both. Yong Saiweihao would not let Luan Sun attack unchallenged. Pulling a sword from its sheath, Luan Sun’s blade trembled as if it feared a superior presence. "The Spirit of the Sword!" Had Yong Saiweihao attained the Spirit of the Sword? At this moment, Luan Sun started to panic. He fought while defending against the sword’s edge. Their swords collided loudly. Luan Sun felt the impact shock up his arm, causing his bones to ache, and eventually, his blade was notched. Luan Sun regretted not decapitating that young boy when he had the chance. Escape! That was the only thought on his mind. He leaped out of the window, but a jar of alcohol was thrown after him. Luan Sun could only raise his sword to defend himself, jar after jar, shattering, drenching him. He leaped through the corpses of hundreds of mountain bandits that been killed without a second thought. His primary concern was to save his own life. However, as he descended the mountain, he was met by a man in dark robes, seeming like a grim reaper awaiting his tainted soul. "You!" Why was Yong Saiweihao here? Wasn’t he on the mountain? "You’re too slow," said Yong Saiweihao, his calm voice causing Luan Sun’s heart to skip. With a flick of his wrist, Yong Saiweihao ignited a flame. At that moment, Luan Sun realized it was too late for him to turn back. "Argh!" Flames of vengeance engulfed him. The alcohol-soaked robes intensified the fire. Yong Saiweihao watched the burning figure before him with a stoic gaze, his harsh features momentarily softening. "Mother, I sent his soul in revenge for you." Eleven winters of turmoil, haunted by the events of that day every time he closed his eyes. Eleven winters that sadness shaped him for this moment of revenge. Yet the hands that killed his mother were still his own. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒·𝗇𝗲𝘁 Read ‘Rebirth: This Farmgirl Has Spirit Fish Scales’ before anyone else with more Chapters at https://www.jinovel.com/en