Chapter 23: The Aura of the Demon

“In the evening, I’ll attend the banquet at the palace. When I return, we’ll take a stroll through the streets and see if we can catch the person impersonating you.”
Back at the small courtyard, Ji Huo gave instructions to Little Brown Sugar:
“Go find Twenty-three and the others, see if you can gather any more information. It’s possible this time the target isn’t you, but those little rascals.”
Little Brown Sugar perked up instantly, excitement in her voice:
“Alright, alright! I’ll go find Twenty-three. It’s been some days since I last saw them—wonder if their martial skills have improved?”
Ji Huo parted his lips, recalling the scenes of Little Brown Sugar’s previous treatment of the group, then smiled:
“Go easy on them.”
“They’re just children. I’ll be gentle, for sure.”
Little Brown Sugar clenched her tiny fists and gave them a little wave, her demeanor betraying an eagerness to give them a good thrashing.
“You said that last time, and they ended up sobbing and coming to me with complaints,” Ji Huo added, expressionless.
Little Brown Sugar thought for a moment, then replied earnestly,
“This time, I won’t give them a chance to complain to you.”
“…”
Ji Huo parted his lips, hesitating to speak, then held back again.
Having raised such a violent child, he wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Ever since she avenged her family years ago, it seemed she’d awakened some fierce gene—now she was more ferocious than ever.
Well, at least she wouldn’t be easily duped by that yellow-haired brat anymore, right?
In the afternoon, Little Brown Sugar left the house in high spirits. From her demeanor, it was clear she was eager for a good round of sparring.
Considering this was a way to boost their combat experience, Ji Huo could only mourn for them in silence.
Come to think of it, those little rascals had grown lazier lately. After the matter with the Assassin Hall was resolved, it was about time they got some proper training.
Later that afternoon, Ji Huo lounged on an old man’s chair in the courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of peace.
“Being a wastrel is wonderful—so much easier than working hard in Western Sichuan,” Ji Huo mused.
In the distance, heavy, thunderous footsteps approached—like an elephant charging across the ground.
With a loud crash, the wooden door was shoved aside, and Ji Xiao Xiong squeezed through, his massive figure resembling a young giant. He grumbled in dissatisfaction,
“The courtyard’s well-built, but the door’s a bit small.”
Perhaps when Big Brother built this place, he never considered you’d visit… Ji Huo thought inwardly.
Seeing Ji Huo half-reclined like that, Ji Xiao Xiong’s anger flared immediately:
“So slack and idle at your young age—how will you ever become someone great?”

As he spoke, a blast of fist wind surged toward Ji Huo.
Even before it reached him, Ji Huo felt as if his face was slapped by a gale, stinging fiercely. If the actual fist wind hit, his face would surely be battered black and blue.
He sprang up abruptly and returned a punch.
The two gusts collided in the air, sending sand and stones flying across the courtyard, the evergreen trees rustling loudly, countless leaves scattered.
He’s even stronger than yesterday!
A trace of astonishment flickered in Ji Xiao Xiong’s eyes; in Ji Huo’s punch, he glimpsed the shadow of his own signature skill, “Thunderous Bear Fist.”
So the brat hasn’t ignored my teachings after all! He acts cocky, but his body is honest.
Was he secretly training, hoping to amaze me?
Hmph!
Such little tricks—I played them myself back in school!
Within just a second, countless thoughts flashed through Ji Xiao Xiong’s mind. He darted forward, his massive body breaking through the fist wind, grabbed Ji Huo by the belt, slung him over his shoulder, and strode toward the door.
“Wait! Dad! What are you doing?”
Ji Huo kicked his legs, struggling, but Ji Xiao Xiong shook him like a sack. Well, that was that—Ji Huo ceased resisting.
“We’re going to the palace for the banquet,” Ji Xiao Xiong replied matter-of-factly.
“But it’s still early!”
“Arriving early is a minister’s duty.”
“I’m a commoner, just a grassroot! I’m not a minister!”
“That means you must go even earlier!”
“…”
Ji Huo snapped, “Then put me down! I can walk myself!”
“No. You walk too slowly. Time’s already running out!”
Ji Huo glanced sideways, noticing his father had turned his head, a face full of bristling beard blooming into a smile like a chrysanthemum.
Ji Huo: “???”
He’d only ever seen that smile when his father faced Little Brown Sugar. For his father to smile at him like this now—this was no tender father-son moment. Ji Huo felt a chill run down his spine.
“Hold tight! Let me show you the speed of a grandmaster!”
“Wait! Dad, wait!”
With a thunderous boom, the air exploded, and Ji Xiao Xiong vanished from where he stood. The leaves of the evergreen tree soared upward, and faint thunder echoed through the courtyard.

In another corner of the Duke’s mansion, Ji Jun Hong was leisurely sipping tea and reviewing documents.
Sensing something, he looked to the sky. A column of cloud energy shot upward, piercing the thick cloud layer, leaving a slash across the blue sky as if tearing the heavens.
Sunshine streamed through the broken clouds in golden rays—a magnificent sight.
He could vaguely hear shouts of “Ah, ah, ah!”
Ji Jun Hong smiled slightly,
“Father has high hopes for Second Brother, personally guiding him to experience the power of a grandmaster.”
Mr. Wen also looked up at the sky, stroking his beard and sighing,
“The terrifying power of a martial arts grandmaster—capable of moving mountains and filling seas—is truly frightening. I wonder if Second Young Master will one day break through to such a realm.”
“He will,” Ji Jun Hong said with a smile.
Mr. Wen asked curiously, “Master, what grade is Second Young Master now?”
“I don’t know,” Ji Jun Hong shook his head.
“Even you can’t tell?” Mr. Wen exclaimed in surprise.
“Not just me—Father couldn’t see it either,” Ji Jun Hong pointed at the cloud burst. “Father is using this method to test Second Brother’s current rank, but I suspect he won’t find out.”
“Why not?” As a scholar, Mr. Wen knew little of martial arts.
Ji Jun Hong stood, stretched lazily, and explained,
“A martial artist is different from ordinary people. Whether it’s their breathing, their gait, or the vibrations in every inch of their skin—especially those who practice body refinement.”
“Second Brother practices several forms of body refinement, but he seems to have used some method to completely disguise himself as an ordinary person. Even if he stands before me, I can’t discern his rank.”
“The higher the grade, the more this is true. At a certain level, they appear wholly ordinary—this is the return to simplicity. But as far as I know, no one has reached that realm yet—Father certainly hasn’t.”
Mr. Wen nodded, half-understanding, feeling his knowledge expand. He then recalled something he’d encountered earlier and reported,
“Master, today I detected a trace of demon energy in the capital. The entity hid itself well—I searched for quite some time but couldn’t find it.”
Mr. Wen pondered aloud, “By rights, the capital is guarded by dragon energy and the fate of the Great Zhou. Ordinary demons shouldn’t be able to enter—the origins of this one are unknown, but its cultivation must be profound.”
Ji Jun Hong, hands clasped behind his back, gazed at the sky. The breeze stirred his robes, and faint golden light seemed to flow around him.
“When a nation is on the verge of collapse, demons emerge everywhere.”
“The world of men is about to descend into chaos.”