Returning back to the morning, just after the maid had quietly withdrawn from the eting room.
Yu Luomian leaned back in his seat, exhaling a slow, weary sigh.
‘I don’t know when that stubborn girl will finally co to her senses,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Everything I’ve done, every harsh word, every action—it was all for her own good.’
Across from him, Ning Fengzhi noticed the faint crease between Yu Luomian’s brows. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly, but he refrained from comnting. Beside him, Gu Rong also maintained silence. This was, after all, an internal matter of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, sothing outsiders had no right to interfere in.
Deciding to steer the conversation away from the tense topic, Ning Fengzhi spoke in a lighter tone, “How is Yu Ming doing? If I recall correctly, he should be close to awakening his martial soul soon, isn’t he?”
The mont the na Yu Ming was ntioned, Yu Luomian’s expression softened noticeably. A genuine smile tugged at his lips. Yu Ming—grandson of Yu Yuanzhen—was the child of his eldest son, Yu Xiao. That boy had been a source of pride to the entire clan since the day he could walk.
Yu Luomian’s mind wandered back to a mory. He could still hear the boy’s crisp, determined voice: ‘To beco a strong soul master, I have to exercise every day.’
True to his words, Yu Ming had begun running and practicing strength training from the age of four, never missing a single morning despite rain or biting cold.
Now, he was only a few months away from turning six. Soon, his martial soul would awaken, and the clan’s expectations for him were already sky-high.
A rare warmth filled Yu Luomian’s tone as he said, “Indeed… and speaking of that, won’t your beloved Chen Dao also be awakening his martial soul soon?”
At the ntion of that na, Ning Fengzhi’s own lips curved in a knowing smile. Chen Dao was the grandson of Chen Xin, the fad Sword Douluo and a boy Fengzhi had grown fond of.
He rembered clearly the first ti he had truly taken note of the child. Unlike most children his age, Chen Dao possessed a maturity far beyond his years. That composed temperant had impressed Ning Fengzhi so much that he had once taken Chen Dao along on a visit to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.
It was during that trip that Chen Dao had first t Yu Ming. The two boys had hit it off almost imdiately, their personalities complenting each other despite their differences. Since then, their bond had deepened, and Fengzhi had quietly hoped that this friendship would one day serve as a bridge between the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.
Yu Luomian chuckled lightly, recalling the sight of the two boys running through the clan’s training grounds, one with sharp eyes like a young dragon surveying his domain, the other carrying the calm poise of a young swordsman. “Yes,” he said with quiet satisfaction, “those two are like a matched pair. I have high hopes for them both.”
Ning Fengzhi nodded. “As do I.”
For a brief mont, the tension in the room eased, replaced by the unspoken understanding of two n who knew the value of nurturing the next generation.
Now that Yu Luomian’s mood had settled, Ning Fengzhi shifted the topic. With a polite smile, he gestured toward the fourth man in the room.
“I have not yet given you a proper introduction to Mr. Zhou.”
He inclined his head toward the only man still standing, a figure so plain in appearance that one could have walked past him in the street a hundred tis without noticing.
Yu Luomian’s sharp gaze swept over the man. An unremarkable face, weathered by years of living in the shadows, calm eyes that revealed nothing. A commoner through and through… yet he stood here in the presence of two of the most influential clan masters in the empire. That alone ant he was anything but ordinary.
Seeing Yu Luomian’s faint interest, Ning Fengzhi continued smoothly.
“Mr. Zhou has an extensive network among the beggars, street gangs, and those who thrive in the less reputable trades of Heaven Dou City.”
The words had barely left his lips when Yu Luomian’s eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth curling with open disdain. In his eyes, such people were little more than sewer rats—useful only for filthy work that noble blood should never touch.
Ning Fengzhi, ever quick to read the mood, raised a calming hand.
“I understand your reservations,” he said, voice light yet firm. “However, I sought Mr. Zhou’s help because the perpetrator behind this incident made use of children from the slums to deliver the so-called ‘invitation letter.’”
The mont those words sank in, Yu Luomian’s blood boiled. His grip tightened on the wooden armrest until the timber cracked under the strain, splinters scattering to the floor.
“Yes,” he growled, his voice low but dripping with venom. “The one who dared to nearly destroy the prestige of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan… by exploiting my daughter’s marriage as a pawn in their petty sche.”
Though part of him rejoiced that he had managed to halt the disgraceful union between Liu Erlong and that useless waste Yu Xiaogang, the insult to his clan’s honor was not sothing he could forgive. Soone had dared to use his daughter as a tool and worse, they had done it in a way that would leave a lasting stain on his family’s na.
Until now, Mr. Zhou had stood in silence, his posture relaxed yet unshaken, like a man accustod to moving unseen.
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