The bowl shattered; the man died.
In a single instant, Lei Yaoxing collapsed backward, bleeding to death amid futile struggles.
In the dead silence, no one spoke.
Only Ji Jue craned his neck, staring with wide eyes, wishing he could whip out a telescope and zoom in frame by frame. What the hell was that? What was going on? What just happened?
Someone at the Regeneration tier wouldn't die even if thrown into a furnace to burn. If their defense was on the sturdier side, you couldn't pierce their skin even with an anti-materiel rifle pressed flush against their face.
Yet right now, his throat had been slashed open by a coarse porcelain shard bouncing off the floor, and he had bled to death?
He didn't even have the strength to struggle...
What kind of principle was this? How did it work?
Ji Jue's hair practically stood on end.
He couldn't comprehend it, couldn't figure it out, couldn't make sense of it.
In that split second, all he had managed to sense was a wisp of spiritus fluctuation that surfaced the moment the porcelain bowl broke. It circulated quietly, soundlessly, flitting past the memorial hall in the blink of an eye.
And then it had pierced flesh and soul, snuffed out a life, and ultimately returned to the dark.
No blades drawn, no life-or-death brawl. Just a breezy, understated execution.
It was all so deceptively effortless that it completely severed itself from the reality Ji Jue knew—even upending it, leaving behind a spine-chilling dread.
It blanketed everything.
"Is this a White Stag Hunter?" he murmured under his breath.
Beside him, Tong Shan turned his head. "Did you catch any of that?"
Ji Jue shook his head flatly.
"That is a White Stag Hunter's Absolute Sentence execution, a consummate technique several tiers above the Edge of Flying Light."
Tong Shan said quietly, "Among the followers of the White Stag, only three families were ever granted the title of Hunter, endowed with the claws and fangs of Sovereign Virtue. Their duty is to defend the wilderness, maintain the cycle, and eradicate threats. Like hunters culling invasive species, they preserve the ecological balance and the wilderness's continuation.
"Among them, the An family's duty is to purge internal threats. All of their arts are built upon hunting their own kind... The Absolute Sentence was born of this. Outsiders are destined never to understand it, nor to catch a glimpse of its inner workings."
He paused briefly, his gaze toward Ji Jue growing increasingly subtle. "Before this, I thought Supervisor Wen keeping a rogue White Stag in check was already an anomaly. I never expected you could outdo your master."
Ji Jue's face twitched. Several times, he started to speak, only to bite his tongue.
You're standing there deadpan with a stone face, your demeanor dead serious, your eyes utterly earnest—so why is your gossiping routine so thoroughly practiced?
Does every single person in your Tong family have a bit of this in them?!
Ji Jue suddenly realized in despair... Compared to all these aristocratic clans, how was the Lou family the most normal one?
Wait, don't tell me the Lou family actually has lethal tricks of their own too, and Young Master Lou was just tossed out to be a craftsman before learning any of the real stuff?
Amid the shock and stupor, the pool of blood on the floor gradually spread. The corpse turned cold, devoid of any sign of life.
Even the blessings and spiritus completely dissipated, dissolving into a mist of nothingness and drifting away with the wind.
If the occasion hadn't been so inappropriate, Ji Jue would have rushed forward with his toolbox to salvage what he could. Watching good materials lose their value right before his eyes, he didn't even know whether he ought to feel heartbroken.
Just like that, An Ning looked down in silence until the last spark of light faded from Lei Yaoxing's eyes.
In the hollow void, nothing remained but dull darkness.
She withdrew her gaze, took one last look around, gave a faint nod as if bidding farewell, and turned to walk away.
Only after that slender figure vanished into the curtain of rain did the frozen atmosphere inside the memorial hall ease slightly, yet it remained stifling.
If anything, the tension and terror were even worse than before.
Facing a White Stag Hunter's Absolute Sentence, one only had to wait for death. But sometimes death wasn't the most terrifying thing; the truly terrifying part was not knowing what you were about to face next.
Would one's own life continue to remain inside one's body?
Around Lei Yaoxing, the spreading pool of blood crept up to the feet of his confidants. Yet in the dead silence, they didn't even dare to twitch.
Terrified, they awaited their fate.
Until, amid coughing, Chen Xingzhou's voice rang out.
"When a man departs, the lamp goes out; all grudges are settled. In consideration of past kindness, help tidy him up. Once the wake concludes, bury him alongside his father, as a final fulfillment of the filial bond between Old Master Lei and his son."
The man in the wheelchair said, "Now that Lei Yaoxing is dead, there is no need to pursue the rest. Settle the accounts, and you may stay or leave as you wish. If you want to leave Yacheng, that is fine too.
"I only hope you will not make foolish choices."
Beneath that distant, indifferent downward gaze, the blessed wore varied expressions. Some had faces grim as still water; some held eyes full of hatred; more bowed their heads submissively.
With Lei Yaoxing's disposal settled, Chen Xingzhou finally turned around amid the breathless anticipation of the crowd, offering a warm smile to everyone present.
"It is rare for everyone to gather in one place. Yacheng has been in turmoil for so long; it is time to choose a boss," he proposed. "I will be the boss. Who agrees, and who objects?"
"I agree."
Right behind him, the short man in the leopard-print leather jacket with gold-capped teeth was the first to raise his hand. Without hesitation, his savage gaze swept across the room, the very picture of steadfast loyalty, ready to bash in anyone's skull if they dared oppose his big brother.
"I agree as well!"
"Me too!"
"Count me in!!"
Everyone present scrambled to voice their assent, terrified that lagging a step behind would leave them dead without a burial ground. Meanwhile, others merely stood behind Uncle Lin, watching it all in quiet amusement, smiling without a word.
Thus they witnessed the conclusion of this struggle, the regrouping of the Wild Gathering, and the birth of a brand-new boss.
The slaughter in the dark, which had lasted half a month, had finally come to an end.
Reflected in the winding crimson blood.
No, perhaps the killing had never truly ended; it had merely paused for a brief interlude.
And now, before the memorial hall, the new boss, Chen Xingzhou, raised a hand. He paused slightly, and instantly all sound ceased. Silence descended once more.
Only his hoarse voice echoed through the hall.
"Thank you all for backing me to serve as boss for this ten-year term. I am not Lei Wuye; the position of boss isn't Chen Xingzhou's personal plaything.
"Ten years from now, if rising talents wish for the capable to rise to the top, if friends with deep pockets and formidable influence want to vie for the seat, or if an outside dragon crossing the river seeks to unify the underworld, I will welcome them with open arms. When the time comes, we will see who holds the true power.
"But for these ten years, Yacheng's Wild Gathering belongs to me, Chen Xingzhou! The Wild Gathering's business is my business! The Wild Gathering's name is my name!"
Amid the stern, chilling resonance of his voice, all warmth vanished from Chen Xingzhou's face, replaced by a cold detachment and cruelty that surpassed even Lei Yaoxing's. He demanded, "Do you understand?"
Total silence fell; not a single stray sound stirred.
Amid the soft patter of distant rain, the beasts bowed their heads meekly like straw before a gale, no longer daring to display the slightest resistance or objection.
"Very good."
Chen Xingzhou nodded faintly, and finally clapped his hands. "Today's business is concluded, and the Wild Gathering is back on track. Lastly, let us offer an incense stick to Old Master Lei."
Just like that, presided over by Chen Xingzhou, the funeral resumed.
Bundle after bundle of flickering incense sticks were planted into the censer, gathering in the shadows into an ocean of fractured light, like the eyes of beasts in Yacheng's underbelly.
Beside the censer, the trembling master of ceremonies raised the bronze pestle and struck down numbly.
And so, the distant chime of the singing bowl reverberated through the rain.
Just as it once had.
Perhaps the future would be no different.
*
One month earlier, on Mount Yingtai, inside an ancient hall, the very same resonance had echoed.
Afternoon light poured down from the vault of heaven, divided by the window lattice into countless slanted beams of light that pierced the gloom like blades, illuminating Chen Xingzhou's face.
In the darkness, an elderly figure sitting cross-legged idly toyed with a Go piece, his voice indifferent.
"Indeed, Lei Wuye has grown increasingly decrepit over the years. Under the mutual checks and balances of every faction, the Wild Gathering has turned into a pool of stagnant water. A few mosquitoes landing here and there—no amusement to be had at all."
The supreme Chief, known as the Hermit, asked, "What do you think?"
"Forsaking the root to chase the branches, completely forfeiting the essence."
Chen Xingzhou answered without hesitation, "The strong preying on the weak is the true principle of the White Stag; survival of the fittest is the Wild Gathering's fundamental purpose."
He paused, then spoke plainly, "The wilderness does not need Tianyuan, nor does it need Lei Wuye's increasingly rigid rules. I imagine that after weathering this turmoil, even if there is some decline, a round of elimination will allow many new seeds to emerge, will it not?"
The Hermit chuckled derisively. "It does sound intriguing. After all, natural selection is part of the wilderness. But what if one day... the prey surrounded by wolves becomes you?"
"What difference would that make?"
Chen Xingzhou asked back in genuine puzzlement, "Regardless of victory or defeat... wouldn't the one sitting in that seat once more simply be another me?"
Ten years. He would have at least ten years to mold Yacheng's Wild Gathering into the shape he envisioned. The brutal cycle established by Chen Xingzhou would merge into Yacheng's wilderness over the long years.
Even if challengers arose incessantly under his impetus, without end... wasn't that precisely the true principle of the Wild Gathering?
If all went smoothly, ten years later he could easily wash his hands of it and fade behind the curtain.
The Wild Gathering's brutal cycle would still continue beneath his watchful gaze.
The Hermit fell silent.
The figure in the darkness seemed finally to lift his head, looking him in the eye for the first time. "With that ambition... work a bit harder, and forty years from now, you might even serve a term as Chief."
"You flatter me."
Chen Xingzhou bowed his head. "The exalted position of Chief is something I truly dare not covet."
The Chief seemed to chuckle. "Then what is it that you want?"
Chen Xingzhou was silent.
For a long time.
As if summoning his courage, he said softly, "When I was fourteen, a fortune teller read my fate, saying my life would be like a boat sailing against the current—if you don't advance, you retreat. So I changed my name to Chen Xingzhou.
"All I seek is the freedom to advance or not, to sail or not. Nothing more."
"Haha, hahaha, hahahahaha—"
As if hearing the greatest joke in the world, the Hermit could no longer contain himself. He threw his head back in uproarious laughter, rocking so hard that the Go pieces on the table scattered across the floor, ringing out in crisp, unending clatters.
A single black Go piece rolled to a stop before Chen Xingzhou.
Like a bestowal.
"Get lost, Chen Xingzhou."
The Hermit waved a hand, leaving him with a final remark: "If you can truly crawl your way back from hell, only then should you think about freedom."
Chen Xingzhou turned and walked away.
*
Thus a month had passed, amid rising winds and gathering clouds, rolling tides and falling rain.
As the rain gradually thinned and dispersed, the same skyward light cascaded down, illuminating Chen Xingzhou's face and the black Go piece in his hand.
Amid the submissive bows, respectful greetings, and farewells of his many subordinates and beasts, everything took on a solemn, reverent gravity.
"Freedom, is it?"
Chen Xingzhou pinched the Go piece, gazing at the clearing sky. "Uncle Lin, tell me... am I free now?"
"Who knows?"
Uncle Lin shrugged indifferently. "Depends on whether you still think someone is standing in your way."
Indeed, who else was there?
Perhaps in this temporary subjugation, no one dared defy Chen Xingzhou's orders. But foreseeably, the obstacles on the road ahead would be countless.
Suspicion, testing, provocation, and even challenge and strife.
Those bowing their heads this very moment might all become his enemies in the future.
Even though Chen Xingzhou had defeated the strong from a position of weakness, leaping through the dragon's gate in a mere half month to become someone entirely different from his past self—and though his methods and scheming were undeniably terrifying—his raw power had yet to be fully proven. And the other bosses outside Yacheng, who had invested so much here, would hardly give up a choice piece of meat right as it was about to reach their mouths, would they?
New challengers would likely emerge soon—more numerous, more dangerous, and far more troublesome.
He had crawled out of one quagmire only to tumble into an even vaster, deeper one... Seeking to ascend, how many years of struggle would it take?
"Freedom, is it?"
He gave a self-mocking smile. Faced with such an overambitious wish, how could the Chief not laugh?
Yet at least for now, the piece was in his hand.
He clenched his fist tight.
He said nothing more.
Lost in thought, his gaze turned toward the gradually departing crowd, and toward the silhouette of the youth in the distance.
Ji Jue.
Chapter 142