Chapter 81: The Death of Han Zhuo

“You don’t need to do this, miss.”

Instinctively, Hou Yi stepped forward, wanting to stop Chang’e from bowing any further. Yet, he suddenly felt that such an action might be improper, and so he found himself frozen in place—unsure whether to advance or retreat, awkward and ill at ease.

Fortunately, Hou Yi had a strong mind. He took a deep breath, composed himself, then cupped his hands and said, “Please wait here for a moment, miss. I shall return shortly.”

With these words, Hou Yi tightened his grip on his great bow, turned resolutely, and strode away.

Chang’e watched this scene, her eyes shining with a strange light. Following him to the door, she gazed afar at his departing figure, her beautiful eyes filled with hope.

Are you the one destined for me?

…

News of someone stepping forth to aid Chang’e quickly spread throughout the entire Youqiong tribe following Hou Yi’s departure, and soon the tale reached all of humanity.

Countless men who secretly admired Chang’e were stirred and began to pay close attention, eager to see whether this Hou Yi would succeed.

…

At this moment, after many inquiries, Hou Yi finally arrived outside a secluded residence.

“This should be Han Zhuo’s dwelling, should it not?”

Perhaps because the wedding was approaching, the once shadowy cave mansion had now been lavishly decorated with bright lanterns and colorful red silk draped all around, fluttering in the wind, creating a beautiful spectacle.

Yet, the sight filled Hou Yi with an inexplicable sense of irritation.

Frowning slightly, he drew an arrow from his quiver, nocked it to his bow, and with force, shot an arrow toward Han Zhuo’s cave.

With a sharp whistle, the arrow, brimming with tremendous power, shot straight into the cave, echoing with a series of crackling sounds.

“What’s that noise?”

Han Zhuo, at that moment, was lying on his bed, daydreaming about Chang’e’s incomparable beauty. The sudden commotion startled him, and he leapt to his feet in a panic.

“Report! Something terrible has happened!”

A servant rushed in, his voice ringing out even from afar.

“Come with me and see what’s going on.” Han Zhuo frowned, waved his arm, and strode toward the entrance.

At this critical moment, Han Zhuo’s heart was filled with apprehension. After all, he was about to marry Chang’e; nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

“Yes, sir.” The servant, understanding the urgency, fell silent and followed closely behind Han Zhuo.

“Fellow cultivator, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Han Zhuo, feeling the crushing aura emanating from Hou Yi, could not help but feel intimidated. Yet, he forced himself to step forward, all the while praying silently: Please, don’t let him be here to cause trouble. Please…

“So, you are Han Zhuo?” Hou Yi gave him a cold glance, his left hand quietly tightening around his great bow. This subtle gesture did not escape Han Zhuo’s notice, and his heart skipped a beat.

He’s here to make trouble—what should I do?

Han Zhuo was only at the mid-stage of Golden Immortal, and before this stranger—whose depth he could not fathom, yet whose presence seemed even more formidable than his own father, a peak-stage Golden Immortal—he found himself completely devoid of the will to resist.

“Uh, Senior, perhaps there’s some misunderstanding between us?” Han Zhuo said cautiously, revealing his lineage in the hope that Hou Yi would not kill him on a whim. “I am indeed Han Zhuo, of the East—”

But before Han Zhuo could finish, Hou Yi cut him off. “So I have not come to the wrong place!”

With narrowed eyes, Hou Yi ignored Han Zhuo’s look of terror, drew his bow to its fullest, and loosed an arrow in a flash of light.

With a sharp whistle, the arrow, brimming with crushing force and cold gleam, shot straight at Han Zhuo.

“No!”

Sensing the mortal danger contained in the arrow, Han Zhuo was horrified. He had never imagined that this man would act so decisively—killing without even asking questions.

But at the brink of death, he dared not hesitate. He immediately activated the jade talisman his father had given him, said to be able to withstand the full-force strike of a peak-stage Golden Immortal.

With a hum, a glowing shield appeared before him. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, Hou Yi’s arrow pierced it before his very eyes.

After all, Hou Yi was already at the threshold of sainthood, and a master archer at that. Even those of equivalent power would approach his arrows with caution—how could a mere talisman crafted by a peak-stage Golden Immortal possibly withstand it?

“Impossible!”

Han Zhuo cried out in terror. In the next instant, the arrow, brimming with deadly power, plunged into his chest, its chill suffusing his being.

Blood spurted as the terrifying force shattered his internal organs and sent his magic into chaos.

“You…you will regret this!” Han Zhuo’s eyes bulged with fury and resentment as he glared at Hou Yi, then coughed up a mouthful of blood and died.

A flash of blue light, and Han Zhuo’s body reverted to its true form, crashing heavily to the ground.

“I have never regretted my actions,” Hou Yi said, casting a glance at Han Zhuo’s corpse before turning to leave.

With the Wu tribe’s rising status in the Heavenly Court and the gradual relaxation of restrictions on all tribes during these extraordinary times, killing a mid-stage Golden Immortal of the divine race stirred little emotion in him.

…

Meanwhile, in the Eastern Sea.

Ao Luan, attended by several aquatic maidens, suddenly felt a powerful psychic shock. When he absorbed the information, he was stunned, and then rage overtook him. He shoved aside the maidens, causing their startled cries to fill the air.

“Out! All of you, out!”

“Damned Wu tribe—how dare you kill my son!”

Now that the dragon clan was regaining its former dominance in the Heavenly Court, its members were returning to their imperious ways. So, upon learning that his son had been killed, Ao Luan flew into a towering rage.

Even if the slain son was but one among many, and not one he particularly cherished.

“Attend me!”

“Fifth Prince!”

At his shout, a water clan general entered at once, saluting.

“Muster the troops and follow me!”

“At once!”

The general respectfully withdrew.

Moments later, a mighty army of the water clans assembled, and under Ao Luan’s command, departed the Eastern Sea, surging toward the vast land.

Wherever the dragon army passed, dark clouds gathered and storms raged without end.

…

At this time, Hou Yi had already returned to the Youqiong tribe.

In truth, after killing Han Zhuo, he had considered leaving, but a certain graceful figure kept flitting through his mind, making him reluctant to depart.

“Could it be that I have fallen for that human maiden?”

Hou Yi was puzzled, but once he had returned to the Youqiong tribe, the answer began to grow clear in his heart.

Meanwhile, as news of Hou Yi’s return spread, the entire tribe was set abuzz.

The moment Han Zhuo was slain, the news was swiftly known by all who had been following the affair, and in no time, word spread throughout the tribe.

So, even before Hou Yi returned, the entire Youqiong tribe knew he had killed Han Zhuo.

“Great Shaman Hou Yi, you have returned.”

Chang’e’s father, along with a group of tribesmen, waited at the entrance. Seeing Hou Yi approach, he hurried forward to greet him.

“Yes.” Hou Yi cupped his hands in greeting. “Greetings, elder.”

“Excellent.”

Chang’e’s father sized him up. Finding Hou Yi handsome and heroic, he nodded in satisfaction.

He had already inquired into Hou Yi’s background and, upon learning that he was a great shaman of the Wu tribe and held a noble rank in the Heavenly Court, had already decided to take him as a son-in-law. Seeing him now in person, he was even more pleased.

After all, whether in cultivation or in status, Hou Yi was someone their humble tribe could only look up to.