Chapter Seven: The Challenge

Ji Hao pulled open the courtyard gate and saw Ji Wu standing impatiently in front, arms crossed, swaying restlessly. With a mocking grin, Ji Wu looked down haughtily at Ji Hao, who was much shorter and thinner than himself, swaggering as he declared, “Ji Hao, at the Ancestral Rite, I’ll beat you to death!”

Ji Hao raised his head to meet Ji Wu’s gaze, curled his lips in a cold smile, and replied, “Who was the one coughing up blood yesterday? Want to kill me? Better wash the taste of blood out of your mouth first!”

Ji Wu glared at Ji Hao, grinding his teeth in fury, his eyes nearly bulging with hatred. To be beaten until he spat blood before so many clansmen was the greatest humiliation of his life. Especially since Ji Hao’s cultivation was far weaker—being injured by someone less powerful left Ji Wu with no face to show.

“Damn bastard!” Ji Wu roared, swinging his fist as if to strike Ji Xia.

But at that moment, a woman stepped lightly out from behind him. With a casual tug at Ji Wu’s arm, this burly youth stumbled back a dozen steps, nearly landing flat on his back. Ji Wu cried out in aggrieved protest, “Mother, I’m going to teach this little brat a lesson!”

“Oh? And just who is this little brat cursing?” Ji Hao folded his arms and laughed at the woman before him.

Just as Ji Wu opened his mouth to retort, the woman in front of Ji Hao cut him off with a sharp rebuke, scaring him into silence. She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Ji Hao from head to toe. After a long pause, she sneered, “Not a bad-looking child… quite handsome, just like your mother. But with those skinny arms and legs, you’d better watch out you don’t get them broken by some wild beast on the mountain.”

Ji Hao also looked the woman up and down. She stood a head taller than Qing Fu, and compared to Qing Fu’s serene elegance, this woman was far more fiery in both figure and spirit—her chest was full and proud, her hips round and high, her lips a moist, rosy diamond, and her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with a dangerous, intoxicating allure like that of a mandrake flower.

“There probably aren’t any wild beasts in this world that could break my arms or legs,” Ji Hao said, staring openly at the woman’s imposing chest and clicking his tongue in admiration. “But you’d better be careful, Auntie. Those bastards from the Blackwater Serpent Tribe have been causing trouble around here lately. If they kidnap you, I’d wager at least a hundred men would be fighting over you in a single night!”

The woman’s face darkened instantly. Auntie? Did she look like one of those old crones in the tribe whose wrinkles could hide a person? And Ji Hao’s last words were especially venomous.

“You little beast! How dare you speak to my mother like that?” Ji Wu roared, and with a flash of light, his heavy shield and axe flew into his hands.

Murderous energy radiated from Ji Wu as he prepared to attack, but suddenly a massive bear’s head appeared behind Ji Hao. The fat bear rose up like a mountain behind Ji Wu, its three-foot-long fur bristling, its muddy eyes full of killing intent, sticky saliva dripping from its jaws as it stared wordlessly at Ji Wu.

“Damn… damn it!” Ji Wu felt like a frog being stared down by a python. The bear’s sheer presence locked his body in place, leaving him unable to move. Stiff with fear, Ji Wu backed away two steps, nearly collapsing.

Though rotund, this bear was Ji Xia’s battle beast—its strength nearing the threshold of a Grand Shaman. The aura it exuded was not something a mere young shaman like Ji Wu could withstand.

“Hmph!” The woman swept her hand, her slender fingers emitting a shrill tearing sound as she forcibly shredded the bear’s aura. She fixed Ji Hao with a cold sneer. “Boy, have you even grown all your hair yet? All you know is the business between men and women? Tsk. Qing Fu, my dear, I come calling and you leave this brat to make a mess?”

With a mocking laugh, a cloud of gray mist sprayed from her sleeve toward Ji Hao’s face.

Ji Hao caught a pungent whiff of herbs and, in a blink, identified the toxic scents of Bone Rot Grass, Heartbreak Herb, Sinew Shatter Weed, and four other deadly plants, along with several more he couldn’t distinguish in such a rush.

In a flash, Ji Hao retreated with a gust of wind.

The fat bear roared, exhaling a gale that barely held back the gray mist. But with a flick of the woman’s fingers, the mist split into two serpents, darting straight for the bear’s nostrils.

“Jiang Yao, you know I only make medicines to heal, not to harm,” Qing Fu sighed quietly, and a surge of green smoke billowed from the house, swallowing the gray serpents. There was a constant hissing as the green and gray mists devoured each other, soon dispersing as colorless, scentless vapor on the wind.

Jiang Yao’s face changed, and she sneered, “Qing Fu, I didn’t expect your skills with potions would improve after you fell from the Grand Shaman realm.”

Qing Fu said nothing. Ji Hao, standing behind the fat bear and gripping its long fur to keep it from attacking, replied coldly, “Even if my mother’s shamanic power has declined, she’s still a genius with potions—she devotes herself to healing our tribe, so of course her skills have grown.”

Jiang Yao laughed bewitchingly, calling toward the wooden house, “Ji Xia, brother, I’ve come to visit in person, and you send a brat to deal with me?”

There was no answer from Ji Xia, only Qing Fu’s calm voice. “Jiang Yao, are you here to visit or to provoke? Whatever you have to say, save it for the Ancestral Rite. If you want a potion duel, do it then.”

With a wicked smile and a sideways glance at Ji Hao, Jiang Yao sang out, “As you wish, Qing Fu. At the Ancestral Rite, we sisters must get close and personal. After all, my son Ji Shu is about to become the leader of the Fire Crow warriors!”

Ji Hao coughed heavily and retorted in a deep voice, “My father Ji Xia is the true leader of the Fire Crow warriors.”

Jiang Yao pursed her lips in a smile at Ji Hao, twisted her slender waist, and with a sudden slash of her fingers, sent several streaks of dark-green light clawing at him. “Such a sharp tongue! Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?”

The claws whistled through the air, the biting wind making Ji Hao squint as shallow cuts appeared on his face. The wind carried a strong, pungent odor—her claws were clearly coated with deadly poison.

Jiang Yao was a shaman priestess, her strength recently breaking through to the Grand Shaman realm.

Ji Hao couldn’t keep his eyes open and could only step rapidly backward.

Suddenly, Qing Fu flashed in front of him. She opened her mouth, and a thumb-sized white jade pearl glowed with misty light, shooting from her lips to strike Jiang Yao’s palm.

Jiang Yao yelped, recoiling as if burned, her greedy gaze lingering on the white pearl. “Wood Spirit Pearl? What a treasure… But alas, Qing Fu, your shaman hole is broken too—you’re just a cripple now. I’ll see you at the Ancestral Rite!”

She seized Ji Wu’s shoulder, her body exploding into dozens of fiery streaks that vanished in an instant.

Qing Fu swallowed the Wood Spirit Pearl, her slender body swaying as a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Ji Hao opened his eyes and, seeing the blood at Qing Fu’s lips, his dark pupils suddenly flashed crimson before fading again.

Inside the house, Ji Xia’s heavy voice called out, “Hao, if you’re hungry, come in and eat everything on the table.”

After a pause, Ji Xia’s voice turned cold. “So they dare come here to bully us? Do they really think I, Ji Xia, am a cripple?”

Ji Hao said nothing, simply walked back into the wooden house, and began devouring the white-spotted python meat.

***

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