Chapter Fifteen: The Eldest Young Master of Martial Prestige

“Someone! Drag Steward Zhao out and have him torn apart by five horses!” Upon hearing Steward Zhao personally admit to hiring an assassin to kill Wu Hong, Huang Hu spoke to the people outside in a flat tone.

Human life was worth less than grass in Huangyun Town, and Huang Hu’s word was law. In a wealthy, official household like his, the lives of the servants were entirely at the mercy of their master. Thus, the old saying: better to beg than to serve. No matter how high a servant’s status, their fate hung on a single word from the master.

“Master, wait! I hired someone to kill him for the good of the Huang family!” Steward Zhao replied with remarkable calm.

Wu Hong was startled by Steward Zhao’s composure. Had the steward discovered something?

“How amusing! Did you think I, Huang Hu, regarded you as merely a servant? Speak—what last wish do you have before you die? Consider it my reward for your years of service.” Huang Hu sneered coldly, thinking Steward Zhao was making a desperate final struggle.

But years of accumulated authority made Steward Zhao wary of angering Huang Hu further. He hastily produced a miniature wanted notice, offering it with both hands.

The moment Wu Hong saw the notice, his pupils contracted; he instantly understood what was happening.

Huang Hu opened the notice. On it, Steward Zhao had drawn Wu Hong’s wanted poster—clear and unmistakable. Huang Hu’s face changed instantly. He glanced at Wu Hong, standing to the side, then closed his eyes and fell silent for a long moment.

Steward Zhao, seeing this, knew his life was spared. He relaxed, waiting for Huang Hu’s decision.

“So, should I call you the Heir of Wuwei, or Wu Hong, or perhaps Hong Wu?” Huang Hu still did not open his eyes. With a sigh, he spoke as if to himself, but his meaning was all too clear.

“Master Huang, whatever identity I have, your family has shown me kindness. As for the Wu Hong wanted on the bounty, that is indeed me. Yet justice in this world serves only those with power. If you wish to turn me in, I have nothing to say and will not resist.”

Wu Hong had always been this way: if someone treated him with kindness, regardless of their nature, he would always show respect in return.

Huang Hu, hearing Wu Hong’s reply, thought, “Wu Hong truly knows gratitude and repays kindness. But his background is too dangerous; I cannot shield him in front of Steward Zhao.”

“Guards! Take Wu Hong to the servants’ prison!” Huang Hu ordered. Two servants entered. Wu Hong glanced back at Huang Hu, then followed them out.

Steward Zhao was overjoyed. “Hmph—so what if you’re my master, Huang Hu? If you don’t pardon me and the authorities investigate, our roles might soon be reversed! If officials come to arrest Wu Hong, perhaps I could make use of the opportunity...” Treachery was already brewing in his heart.

Though outwardly deferential, Steward Zhao’s heart had turned traitorous.

“Well done! Steward Zhao, you’ve truly done my family a great service. Go now. After Wu Hong is taken away by the authorities, I will reward you handsomely.”

Huang Hu spoke casually, and Steward Zhao withdrew.

Once the hall was empty, Huang Hu said, “Uncle Fu, what do you make of all this?”

“The implications are grave. Wu Hong’s ties reach directly to the Wuwei Prince’s residence in the capital! Even an organization like Tiansha must be cautious. Steward Zhao is a shrewd man; he’s surely already sent word to the county magistrate in Yunluo. We can’t kill him now,” came the old voice of Uncle Fu from behind the screen—his words revealing a shocking truth: even Tiansha must tread carefully.

News of Wu Hong’s arrest quickly spread through Huangyun Town, thanks to Steward Zhao. He knew that the greater the commotion, the safer he would be.

Back in his own room, Steward Zhao wore a sly smile. “Hmph, I’ve had enough of being a servant. It’s time I became the master!”

The town was in an uproar. The Heir of the Wuwei Prince—just after his wanted notice was posted, he was captured right here in Huangyun Town! The news flew toward the capital at lightning speed.

Wu Hong knew nothing of this. Locked in the Huang family prison, his weapons hadn’t even been confiscated. Glancing at the thick iron bars—thicker than a child’s arm—he smiled inwardly. “Huang Hu has indeed shown me favor. How could he not know of my strength? This cage is no real obstacle. But I won’t escape; that would only implicate the Huang family.”

He took out the Sun Buddha’s True Sutra and began practicing its body-tempering techniques in the quiet of his cell. He had no fear of his book being discovered or his moves being copied, for he’d realized that without the sutra itself, the training’s effects were greatly diminished. Even if others learned his movements, they would be nothing more than ordinary exercises.

Wu Hong sensed he was on the verge of a breakthrough, especially after rescuing those children from the ruined temple yesterday. The night before, he’d survived an assassination attempt—poisoned darts failed to pierce his skin, which both shocked and spurred him to become even stronger.

He did not sleep that night, training his body ceaselessly in the darkness.

In the lightless dungeon, Wu Hong lost track of time, growing only slightly weary.

The iron door creaked open. Wu Hong stopped his training as more than ten people entered—most wearing shining golden armor, imposing and formidable. Huang Hu accompanied a man in silver armor, holding a silver spear, wearing a fawning smile as he entered the cell.

“Which one is Wu Hong?” the silver-armored general barked loudly.

“My lord, that is Wu Hong,” Huang Hu replied deferentially, pointing to Wu Hong.

“Him?” The general strode up to Wu Hong and sneered coldly, “So you are the bastard son of the Wuwei Prince, Wu Hong?”

“Hmph! And who are you, a lackey, to speak of the Wuwei Prince’s affairs?” Wu Hong’s face darkened. His principle was always to repay kindness with kindness. This general, for all his imposing presence, had insulted him at first sight—how could Wu Hong show him any courtesy?

“You—” The general was speechless, finger trembling as he pointed at Wu Hong. Clearly, he didn’t dare discuss the Wuwei Prince’s business further; he was merely following orders to arrest Wu Hong, and didn’t even dare harm him. Wu Hong’s words had struck a nerve.

“Very well! The Heir of the Wuwei Prince—reputed to be a frivolous good-for-nothing—proves the rumors true. Facing death, you still have spirit.”

The general forced out a cold laugh through clenched teeth.

Wu Hong ignored him, turning to face the wall, his aloofness further infuriating the general, who could do nothing for now but stamp his foot in frustration.

“Take him! Parade him through the streets and then escort him to the capital!” the general barked. Two soldiers entered the cell and placed special shackles on Wu Hong’s wrists and ankles.

Wu Hong tried them quietly—they didn’t budge. His expression changed. These shackles were specially made. He hadn’t expected the authorities to value him so highly! In everyone’s eyes—including those at the Prince’s residence—he was a useless heir. Why use such extraordinary chains, meant for martial experts, on him?

Was Huang Hu betraying him? Wu Hong quickly dismissed the thought. Huang Hu had always shown him favoritism; even placing him in an easy-to-escape cell made everything clear. Wu Hong simply didn’t want to flee from the Huang family and bring them harm.

Thinking it over, he realized only Steward Zhao bore him a grudge—Zhao had even sent assassins after him and surely knew his true strength best.

“Master Huang, you have quite a steward,” Wu Hong said as he passed Huang Hu, emphasizing the word “quite.”

A trace of guilt flickered in Huang Hu’s eyes, which Wu Hong caught at once. Wu Hong smiled faintly as the general’s men led him out to the prison cart.

Bound in the cart and paraded through the streets, Wu Hong saw crowds lining both sides, eager to watch the spectacle.

The townsfolk gossiped among themselves. To them, the rumors of a wastrel heir from the capital meant little, but it didn’t stop them from enjoying the show.

The general glanced at a few men in the crowd, who immediately began shouting, “Beat the arrogant bully who oppressed the people!”

They picked up stones and hurled them at Wu Hong’s cart. Their lead was quickly followed by the masses, perhaps out of jealousy for Wu Hong’s former glory, and soon a herd mentality took over.

People grabbed whatever rubbish was at hand and flung it at Wu Hong.

“Haha! Who would’ve thought I’d receive such treatment? It’s worth it!” Wu Hong laughed as debris rained down on him, the crowd’s anger whipped up by those with ulterior motives.

The general watched with satisfaction, making no move to intervene. He glared venomously at Wu Hong, thinking, “This is the price for offending me!”