Chapter 16: Young Master Xiao Courting Death

"Hmm? Yu Long? What happened to you?" Xiao Che quickly stood up, his face a picture of terror.

Xiao Yu Long wore a stiff, unattractive smile, flicking the remnants of his wine cup to the floor: "Nothing, I just lost control of my strength."

Xiao Yang’s face was no better, looking as if he’d swallowed a dozen dead flies. Hearing Xiao Yu Long’s words, he quickly replied, "I understand. It must be because Brother Xiao has made a new breakthrough in mystical arts again. The amplified mystical energy from a recent breakthrough can sometimes cause control issues."

"Of course! Xiao Yu Long has broken through again—congratulations! Three months ago he reached the third level of entering the mystical realm, and now, in just three months, another breakthrough! Truly the greatest talent of our generation. It seems no one else could possibly be chosen for the Xiao Clan except Xiao Yu Long."

Xiao Yu Long’s face convulsed, he straightened, and forced a smile: "Xiao Che, your praise is excessive. I just broke through, and the mystical energy surged—I need to stabilize it immediately. I might not be able to host you further."

"No, no, it's nothing!" Xiao Che waved his hand, nodding understandingly: "Of course, stabilizing your mystical energy comes first. I won’t intrude further. Thank you for your generous invitation, Xiao Yu Long. When you’re chosen by the Xiao Clan, I’ll visit you immediately to offer my congratulations."

With that, Xiao Che politely departed. Xiao Yang pretended to follow, then, after Xiao Che was out of sight, hurried back inside. Upon entering, he saw Xiao Yu Long’s face—dark as a storm cloud.

"Brother Xiao... this matter..." Xiao Yang gulped, his voice trembling as he approached.

"Aaaah!" Xiao Yu Long roared, as if driven mad, sweeping all the wine cups and tea sets from the table, shattering them, then kicking the stone table until it too lay in pieces. He clenched his fists, panting heavily, his eyes blazing with envy and hatred: "Did you tell him... did you tell him... that Summer Qingyue would never let that useless Xiao Che near her?!"

Xiao Yu Long rarely lost control, and this outburst left Xiao Yang pale, his spine chilled. "It must be... it must be Xiao Che’s lies! He’s making it all up! Qingyue would never fall for that useless brat!"

"BS!" Xiao Yu Long bellowed: "How much is that brat worth? He dares to pretend in front of me? Do you think I’m blind?!"

Xiao Yu Long, clever and sharp-eyed, had known Xiao Che for sixteen years, understanding him better than his own thoughts. He was certain this weak, cowardly mystical arts practitioner would show signs of emotional turbulence. Yet when Xiao Yang spoke, there was no trace of artifice or deception in his eyes, expression, or movements.

Summer Qingyue was the woman he’d sworn to win, allowing their marriage out of necessity, believing Qingyue, even if married to Xiao Che, would never truly belong to him, but instead provide him an advantage. Yet, to his shock, the day after their wedding, Qingyue had already been touched by Xiao Che!

His heart roared with fury, jealousy, and resentment, as if it might burst.

Xiao Yang shrank back, daring not to breathe. Xiao Yu Long was the heir apparent, and in his presence, Xiao Yang had always been obedient. Now, Xiao Yu Long might become the Xiao Clan’s chosen one, and Xiao Yang dared not defy him.

After a long silence, Xiao Yu Long still panted heavily, the blow to his pride immense. Finally, he whispered, "Where did Xiao Che go after leaving here?"

"To... the east courtyard. Perhaps... perhaps to the kitchen area." Xiao Yang answered carefully.

Xiao Yu Long frowned, his face dark as thunder: "I always believed Qingyue, with her unparalleled beauty and talent, would have dignity and pride no other woman could match. I never thought the lowest scum in the Xiao family could win her!"

With a cold sneer, he snapped his wrist and strode toward the courtyard. Xiao Yang, about to follow, suddenly realized where he was going and stopped obediently, then wiped his forehead with a trembling hand.

Xiao Che left the courtyard, walking leisurely toward the kitchen for breakfast, then heading toward the courtyard where Xiao Lingxi lived. If he drew near, he’d catch her muttering to herself: "Xiao Yu Long’s probably heading my way now. Hmm... Qingyue’s husband... will he cut off one leg? Or two? Or maybe three?"

At Xiao Lingxi’s courtyard, the door was tightly shut. Xiao Che knocked gently: "Madam, I’ve arrived early."

The door opened, and Xiao Che entered, then slammed it shut behind him.

Xiao Lingxi lay on the table, her hands pressed to her cheeks, eyelids drooping, her expression listless. Xiao Che set the breakfast before her, waving his hand near her face: "Didn’t sleep well last night?"

"Huuu..." Xiao Lingxi let out a low whimper, burying her face in her palms: "Don’t mention last night... Qingyue brought over a blanket, and she saw everything... what should I do? I can’t face anyone now, huuu..."

"Not that dramatic, right?" Xiao Che rubbed his temples, sitting beside her, smiling: "Relax. You’re my cousin, after all. What’s the harm in sleeping together?"

"But because I’m your cousin..." Xiao Lingxi shook her head frantically, her cheeks flushed: "And... last night, your hand was... on my... huuu... She must have seen it all! What should I do?!"

"Don’t worry. She won’t tell a soul. Besides, you’re my cousin—accidentally touching your chest while sleeping isn’t a big deal." Xiao Che said coolly.

"You you you... don’t say that!" Xiao Lingxi shook her head harder, her face redder. The previous night, in the dark, alone together, and her mind clouded, she’d acted on impulse. Now, recalling it, she felt she’d been insane.

"I’m one hundred percent sure she didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t dare go in the direction you think." Xiao Che said, chuckling softly: "Relax. Come on, eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

"Oh... okay..." Xiao Lingxi finally lifted her head, tears in her eyes, beginning to eat the breakfast Xiao Che had brought.

As Xiao Che had guessed, Xiao Yu Long went straight to his courtyard. Upon entering, he spotted Qingyue standing beneath the pomegranate tree in the center.

Qingyue stood still, her arms raised, her expression calm and focused, clearly in the midst of a mystical arts meditation. Her long black hair fell naturally over her shoulders, reflecting the morning light. Her beauty was otherworldly—her delicate, dark eyebrows curved like jade feathers, her eyes clear and still like crystal, her red robes subtly outlining her graceful figure, her skin as smooth as polished jade.

This was Xiao Yu Long’s first close, direct encounter with Qingyue’s unparalleled beauty. For a moment, he was frozen, his soul consumed by the sight, the world around him fading to colorless void.

Noticing his arrival, Qingyue remained still, her gaze unwavering. "Xiao Che is not here." Her voice was cold, clear, like celestial music. Xiao Yu Long blinked back to reality, his eyes alight with fascination and desire. He quickly composed himself, bowing slightly: "Good day, Miss Qingyue. I am Xiao Yu Long, Xiao Che’s elder brother."

Qingyue wasn’t cold or haughty. His respectful demeanor and tone made her glance sideways, and though she’d heard of Xiao Yu Long, she wasn’t unfamiliar with his name—after all, he was a son of the Xiao Clan’s leadership. As she prepared to respond politely, she noticed the lust and something darker flickering in his eyes.

Instantly, her delicate eyebrow twitched, her initial faint affection turning to disgust. Though Xiao Che often provoked her with his words and actions, she’d never seen such lecherousness in his eyes before.

Xiao Lingxi’s calm voice suddenly took on a chilling edge: "Xiao Che is not here."

Despite Qingyue’s obvious coldness, Xiao Yu Long seemed unfazed. "That’s unfortunate. But I’ve heard of your reputation—seeing you in person isn’t a waste of time."

As he spoke, his every gesture, expression, and gaze reached perfection, his charm radiating to its peak. He was confident he could surpass Xiao Che by a thousandfold. Qingyue had fallen for Xiao Che—how could she resist him?

"I’m meditating. I can’t receive guests." Qingyue’s eyes remained steady, her voice tinged with impatience.

True beauty, regardless of posture or expression, was inherently captivating. Watching Qingyue, who seemed like a celestial being, Xiao Yu Long’s eyes burned hotter, his envy consuming him... such a woman had become Xiao Che’s wife, even as his rival! It was unbearable, unforgivable!

"Hearing you’ve reached sixteen, Miss Qingyue has already attained the tenth level of the early mystical realm. I’ve long admired and yearned for you. At your age, I’m sure you’ve surpassed me by far." Xiao Yu Long suppressed his emotions, his face gentle: "Though the tenth level of early mystical and the first level of entering mystical are just one tier apart, without the right path, one can’t bridge the gap. Though I may not match your talent, as someone who’s broken through, I have some insights. May I discuss it with you?"

He stepped forward, smiling, his hands gathering mystical energy, reaching toward Qingyue’s snow-white hand.

Though Qingyue was gifted, she was still in the early mystical realm. Xiao Yu Long had already reached the third level of entering mystical—he had every right to guide her... or so he thought.

Seeing Xiao Yu Long’s lecherous eyes and his forward movement, Qingyue’s beautiful pupils flashed with anger. She suddenly extended her hand, pushing toward him.

When Qingyue’s hand came forward, Xiao Yu Long’s eyes lit up with greed. He lunged to grab it—only to feel a massive, unyielding force crash into his chest, sending him flying. He somersaulted in the air, his head hitting the ground hard, his two front teeth shattered.

Xiao Yu Long held a high position in the Xiao Clan. Even if a woman married to the Xiao Clan was seduced by him, he dared not harm her—let alone strike him. But Qingyue... what was her background? She was from the Frost Cloud Immortal Palace. If anyone dared harm Xiao Yu Long, even if he were killed, the Frost Cloud Immortal Palace’s disciples would never let it slide. They’d bow and apologize with a smile.

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I hope the early emotional foundations are written delicately, so the pace is a bit slow. The next part will speed up. In the style of *Huo Xing*... will the pig’s foot just keep being ordinary?

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