Eternal Sacred King Chapter 5 - Su familys Misfortune

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

Su Zimo had frequently heard that time accelerates for those who immerse themselves in cultivation. Once he began the process himself, he finally understood the truth behind those words.

To his amazement, three months had slipped away within the cultivation field, and his physical form had undergone a complete metamorphosis.

While others might fail to detect the shift in Su Zimo, he was acutely aware of it.

During this period, he had mastered two specific styles: Plow Heaven Stride and Bovine’s Moon-gazing. When integrated with his breathing and expiration method, Su Zimo’s skin had become so resilient that it was now impervious to standard knives and swords!

A sense of colossal power accompanied his every motion.

His only source of frustration was the Bovine-tongued Saber; he simply could not grasp its core essence.

Standing in the cultivation field, Su Zimo inhaled deeply, drawing his chest in and lengthening his spine. He stepped forward with his left leg, settling into the Plow Heaven Stride posture.

Normally, when Su Zimo stood still, he appeared to be nothing more than a delicate scholar.

However, the moment he took that step, his aura shifted violently. It felt as though the entire sky was being pinned beneath his heel!

Simultaneously, Su Zimo channeled power through his midsection and waist, driving his fists forward in an upward thrust. A sound erupted from him—a deep, powerful lowing like that of a bovine—that startled those nearby.

The execution of Plow Heaven Stride and Bovine’s Moon-gazing felt fluid and effortless. The addition of the breathing and expiration method only served to amplify their destructive potential.

Watching from her seat on a green stone, Die Yue gave a subtle, approving nod.

Transitioning from Bovine’s Moon-gazing, Su Zimo unfurled his fists and delivered a sharp, whipping slap.

This was the third style: Bovine-tongued Saber!

Pa!

His palm struck the air with a resounding crack.

Su Zimo let out a sigh and shook his head in disappointment.

The technique was still missing something vital.

Though the strike seemed forceful, he couldn’t replicate the unique flexibility required for the Bovine-tongued Saber.

Die Yue looked away.

Achieving this level of proficiency in just three months had already surpassed what she expected of him.

The Bovine-tongued Saber was the most complex and lethal of the Tri Bovine Style. Repetitive practice alone was futile; one could never stumble upon its true meaning through rote motion.

Grasping its essence required a specific moment of enlightenment. Without that flash of understanding, a practitioner might fail for thirty years, let alone three months.

Agitated by his inability to master the style, Su Zimo abandoned the cultivation field to pace through the courtyard.

By chance, his eyes landed on a cow grazing nearby, and he froze in place.

It was a standard beast of burden, the kind farmers used to till the soil. It rhythmically chewed its fodder before swallowing, then dipped its head to let its tongue sweep over a patch of fresh grass, rolling the blades into its mouth.

Su Zimo’s eyes brightened as a sudden realization struck him.

The grass was common couch grass—thin, sharp, and serrated. Su Zimo remembered being cut by such leaves as a child.

The cow’s tongue was soft and tender, yet it moved through the sharp grass without injury.

The palm represents the tongue, while the blade is the grass. That is the secret of the Bovine-tongued Saber!

Thrilled, Su Zimo replayed the image of the grazing cow in his mind. He focused on the mechanics of that instant, visualizing the subtle shifts until his body began to move rhythmically on its own.

“I heard a disaster has struck the Su family.”

“Word is their restaurant was demolished. It’s unlikely to reopen. I even heard there were casualties!”

“Is it really that bad?”

Faint voices from outside the estate broke Su Zimo’s concentration, pulling him out of his meditative state.

As he regained his focus, his heart grew heavy at the implications of the gossip. He threw open the gates and hurried toward the Su family residence.

Along the way, he caught more fragments of conversation, allowing him to piece together the tragedy.

A group of thugs had incited a brawl at the Su family restaurant, smashing everything in sight. When Uncle Zheng arrived with reinforcements, they were met by Postnatal Perfected Experts who had been waiting for them. Uncle Zheng had been badly hurt in the ambush.

“Dammit, we can’t just let this go!”

Upon entering the house, Su Zimo was met by the furious shouting of Yuchi Huo, a hot-tempered guard for the Su family.

The people gathered inside were Su Zimo’s most loyal companions. Having lost his parents at age two, Su Zimo viewed Uncle Zheng and the others—who had served the family for years—with great affection.

These were the men who had helped his elder brother establish himself in Ping Yang Town. The bond between the Su brothers and these elders was deep.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs and the metallic tang of blood.

“Second Young Master has returned.”

Even though he had been stripped of his scholarly rank, the household still treated Su Zimo with the utmost deference.

Su Zimo nodded solemnly and approached the elderly man lying frail on the bed.

“Second Young Master.” The old man’s hair was white, and his skin had taken on a sickly, yellowed hue. He looked to be at death's door, yet he still managed a tender smile when he saw Su Zimo.

Uncle Zheng was the steward of the Su household. Despite lacking martial arts training, he commanded the respect of everyone, including Su Hong.

Uncle Zheng had already been frail from age, and with these new injuries, his survival was uncertain.

“Uncle Zheng, who did this?” Su Zimo asked softly by the bed, his outward calm masking a boiling rage.

“Who else? It has to be those brats from the Zhao, Lee, and Yang families!” Yuchi Huo roared.

“It’s more complicated than that,” interrupted a composed man in his forties. This was Liu Yu, the captain of the Su family guards.

“Uncle Liu, what are you implying?” Su Zimo inquired.

Liu Yu looked at the young man, momentarily hesitating to speak.

Yuchi Huo exploded in frustration. “Liu Yu, why are you stalling? Don't you see how grave this is? Mr. Zheng is broken, and Old Guan met a gruesome end! If your boys hadn't been quick enough to cut a path out, Mr. Zheng would be dead too. They were trying to slaughter us!”

“Uncle Guan is dead?” A sharp pang of grief hit Su Zimo.

As a boy, Su Zimo had spent countless hours perched on Uncle Guan’s shoulders, playfully tugging at his hair.

No matter how mischievous Su Zimo was, Uncle Guan never lost his temper; he would only laugh and continue to play.

Su Zimo spoke through clenched teeth, “Will the local authorities not intervene?”

“The officials handle civilian matters. This is a feud between clans, so they will do everything to stay out of it. Besides, the matters of the pugilistic society are settled by its own rules,” Liu Yu explained, shaking his head.

Su Zimo’s voice grew cold. “Uncle Liu, what is the truth?”

Liu Yu sighed heavily. “My men tracked the attackers. They saw them retreat into the Shen family estate.”

“Those Shen family bastards are nothing but ungrateful snakes!” Yuchi Huo slammed his fist onto a nearby table, his breathing heavy with rage.

Because of Su Zimo’s past with Shen Mengqi, the Su family had provided the Shens with significant assistance over the years. Now that Shen Mengqi had entered an immortal Sect and gained high status, her family had turned their blades against the Sus.

Liu Yu added, “I’ve looked into it. The Shen family is preparing to open their own restaurant, and ours is standing in their way.”

Su Zimo remained stone-faced as he processed Liu Yu’s report.

“Ahem!”

Uncle Zheng coughed, struggling for breath. “The Shens may have orchestrated it, but the other three families likely provided the muscle. For now, we must wait for the Young Master to return.”

“We’re just going to take this?” Yuchi Huo snarled.

Liu Yu sighed. “We have to endure. Given the Shen family’s rapid rise, I suspect they may have Connate Experts backing them. If we charge in blindly, we’ll only lose more people.”

“When is the Young Master expected back?”

“I’m unsure, but it should be soon.”

Su Zimo suddenly spoke up, “Uncle Zheng, please rest. I’m going out to clear my head.”

With those words, he turned and walked out.

...

Three months prior, Su Zimo had lost his scholarly status, Shen Mengqi had departed, and Zhui Feng had been killed. He had been burying his resentment and pain deep inside ever since.

That suppressed rage was why he had nearly killed a thug with a single strike that one night.

Under Die Yue’s tutelage, he had focused entirely on his cultivation, but he had never truly let go of his grievances.

The current tragedy—the wounding of Uncle Zheng and the brutal death of Uncle Guan—acted as a catalyst, reigniting the fire in Su Zimo’s soul.

As he left the estate, one thought dominated his mind: these people had pushed him too far.

Su Zimo had a basic understanding of the martial ranks within the pugilistic society.

Both Postnatal and Connate levels were categorized into early, mid, late, and perfected stages. His brother, Su Hong, was an early-stage Connate Expert.

Su Zimo, however, had no idea where he stood or what level of opponent he could actually face.

Logically, he assumed that with only three months of training, he couldn't hope to best those who had cultivated for decades.

Nevertheless, Su Zimo demanded justice from the Shen family. His years of study had instilled in him a belief that the world should operate on reason.

The Shen family owed him an answer!

Before long, he reached the Shen estate.

In a mere three months, the Shen residence had been transformed from a modest home into a grand mansion. Two imposing stone lions now guarded a bright red door.

If Su Zimo hadn't known the address, he wouldn't have recognized it as Shen Mengqi’s home.

He ascended the steps and pushed the doors open without bothering to knock.

Inside, the courtyard was filled with people drinking and laughing. His sudden entrance caused the crowd to go quiet and disperse, as dozens of eyes fixed on him with hostile intent.

These men were rough-looking warriors, their weapons gleaming nearby.

One man with keen eyes recognized Su Zimo and sneered, “Well, if it isn't Second Young Master Su, the pride of the Da Qi imperial examinations. What brings you to the Shen residence?”

“Haha, haven't you heard? He’s been stripped of his titles. He’s just a common loafer now!”

The thugs laughed, mocking him openly. They clanged their weapons together, sending sparks into the air and filling the courtyard with the harsh sound of steel on steel.

Any normal scholar would have collapsed in terror at being surrounded by such violent men.

Su Zimo, however, didn't blink. He walked calmly into the very center of the courtyard.

Back when he had no cultivation at all, he had dared to challenge Perfected Cang Lang over an injustice. Compared to a Golden Core expert, these ruffians were nothing. Their presence couldn't intimidate him.

His gaze swept over the crowd as he said evenly, “I am here to see Shen Nan.”

Shen Nan was Shen Mengqi’s elder brother.

“Hehe, Second Young Master Su arrives without an invitation. Forgive me for the lack of a proper welcome.”

The voice arrived before the speaker. Su Zimo looked toward the corridor, where a man in a white robe was approaching. He wore a smile, though his eyes were filled with blatant contempt.