Wu Zheng's face was flushed red, as if he were drunk, completely immersed in the dancing beauties surrounding him. He pulled a dancer's silk scarf, sniffed it, and joined the dance with abandon.
All around, the pink mist grew thicker and thicker, completely engulfing Wu Zheng's figure.
At this moment, I saw the beauties gradually emerging from the ground, moving closer. Wu Zheng was utterly intoxicated by their presence, casually embracing one and planting a kiss, bursting into hearty laughter.
But just then, the sound of bells rang out. The beauties surrounding Wu Zheng suddenly vanished, and golden light began to radiate from his body—he seemed to regain his senses.
"If you lose yourself in this deadly beauty, you're already dead."
Wu Zheng spoke, then suddenly clutched his chest and spat out a mouthful of blood. A piercing, sinister laugh echoed from among the beauties.
"Well? Aren't these beauties something?"
"Is this sorcery? No, it must be some sort of enchantment."
Wu Zheng said, hurriedly sitting down on the ground. With a swoosh, one of the beauties flew out, accompanied by a sizzling sound. Just as she tried to escape, a golden barrier stopped her.
"This Two-Form Eight Trigrams Formation isn't so easily broken, especially by a ghost of your caliber."
Wu Zheng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, then stood up and walked step by step toward the beauty.
"Impressive. This move of yours—I've never seen anything like it among ghosts. Hah, to think you could actually harm my soul. But I'm not like the others. After all, our Daoist sect, though only a few decades old, is top-notch when it comes to dealing with ghosts."
Wu Zheng spoke, and with a wave of his hand, the beauty flew back into his grasp.
"Miss Xi Shi, since you refuse to listen to me, I must apologize for offending you."
With that, Wu Zheng suddenly tossed the beauty high into the air, then flipped his hands and began forming seals. The eight spikes around him flew over, magnetically attaching themselves to the beauty. Amidst a shrill howl, she crashed to the ground with a clang.
The cries abruptly ceased and vanished. Wu Zheng sighed, shook his head, and, taking the beauty, walked into the house.
Meanwhile, at the wedding, Victor Fan kept proposing toasts to the guests. He was already a bit drunk, but his father-in-law's instructions had to be carried out. Seizing the opportunity, he decided to start with the Henderson family.
The head of the Henderson family, Henry Henderson, was nearly fifty, robust and strong. It was said that in his youth, he fought bravely despite illness and won a great victory as a general.
So his words and actions always seemed powerful, yet never lacked the refinement of a scholar. Speaking of the feud between the Hendersons and the Charles family, it started the year before, when Henry Henderson's eldest son, Winston Henderson, was bullied—by Ronald Charles.
Winston Henderson, the Henderson family's young master, was a scholar by nature. He enjoyed the company of learned men and looked down on Ronald Charles's behavior.
Eventually, Ronald Charles found an opportunity and beat up Winston Henderson. That was how the feud began.
Victor Fan asked his father-in-law to cover for him, then headed over to Henry Henderson. At that moment, Henry looked displeased—Ronald Charles had just come to toast, but it was clearly insincere, which infuriated Henry. Charles Yuan noticed this and ordered both his sons back to their rooms, forbidding them to come out.
"General Henderson, let me offer you a toast."
Victor Fan spoke sincerely, holding out a glass of wine. Henry Henderson smiled dismissively but took a sip. Still, Victor's respectful address lifted Henry's spirits.
Next, Victor Fan and Henry Henderson chatted for a while, mostly about the state of the world. This gradually made Henry feel that Victor was not seeking favor or power, but was truly knowledgeable and insightful in his analysis.
"General Henderson, though I am but a merchant, I read many military texts in my youth. My father hoped I would lead troops in battle, but that wish was never fulfilled. Only with you, General, can I discuss matters of state."
These words delighted Henry Henderson. Victor had investigated Henry's family: his second son was a general in the palace, his eldest had a knack for business, but his youngest, Eugene Henderson, only eleven, loved swordplay and was both learned and skilled—earning Henry's deepest affection.
Henry Henderson was in high spirits. He favored his youngest son because the eldest lacked martial skill and the second lacked scholarly talent; only Eugene could excel at both.
"I've heard all three of General Henderson's sons are born to be warriors."
As they spoke, the two had already downed several drinks. Victor Fan felt a little dizzy, but his tolerance was good enough to hold out.
Julian Potter and Henry Henderson grew more and more congenial as they talked, dropping formalities and speaking as equals. Julian had succeeded in befriending Henry. Off to the side, Charles Yuan was extremely pleased, instructing relatives to help entertain the guests while waiting for Julian to make his move.
"By the way, General Henderson..."
"What's the matter, Potter? Didn’t I tell you to just call me Old Henry?"
Seeing Julian Potter hesitate, Henry Henderson seemed to understand and laughed.
"Such a trivial matter doesn’t bother me. Besides, Winston never cared for swords or spears since he was a child, and I never forced him."
It was clear Henry Henderson was a straightforward man. Julian Potter thanked him repeatedly. Sensing the moment was right, Charles Yuan joined in, offering praise, and Henry complimented his choice of son-in-law, calling him shrewd and promising. The two chatted back and forth. Julian rose, shook off his dizziness, and glanced around for the Johnson family.
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Noah Johnson was a shrewd merchant and had a good private relationship with the Hendersons. Julian Potter had stationed his confidant at both families’ gates for months to uncover this. On the surface, the Henderson and Johnson families seemed unconnected, but in truth, they were closely allied.
At this moment, I saw Noah Johnson with a child beside him, about ten years old, eating fruit—peaches, in particular—with great enthusiasm.
"Zane, don’t eat so much. Peaches will make you bloated and sick."
Suddenly, I looked over in surprise. Zane Zhuang? Isn’t that Mr. Brown? I stared in shock as Julian Potter walked over, glancing back at Henry Henderson and Charles Yuan.
"No need to wonder. This is Zane Zhuang, the real deal."
The Soulreaver Blade spoke up. I recalled the first time John Chou took me to see Mr. Brown, he brought peaches and pinned Mr. Brown to the ground.
I studied the young Mr. Brown. He was chubby and ate messily, nothing like the lean figure I remembered.
"That man behind him—could he be John Chou’s father?"
I quickly looked over.
"No, that’s his grandfather. John Chou’s father is his third son, Eugene Henderson."
I swallowed. Eugene Henderson is only eleven—so it will be many years before John Chou is born. Thinking it over, with someone like him in the Henderson family, I can’t even describe John Chou. They must suffer greatly in the underworld.
So the Johnson and Henderson families have this connection. Thinking back, Mr. Brown treated John Chou not just as a servant to a master, but almost like a father to a son.
My interest in these memories only grew.
"Hey, Zane, that’s enough."
Noah Johnson couldn’t help but grab Zane’s hand and wipe his mouth.
"Mr. Johnson, let me offer you a toast. On this wedding day, I’m grateful for your presence, which brings honor to the Charles household."
Julian Potter spoke, finishing his drink first out of respect. He was nearly at his limit. After sitting down, he praised Mr. Brown, saying Zane had a blessed look and would surely prosper in the future. Young Zane was delighted, but Noah Johnson only sneered.
"Enough, groom. Go to your bridal chamber. I’m sure Miss Charles can’t wait—her maid has come to hurry you several times."
Noah Johnson’s words put an end to Julian’s attempt to slowly draw his attention. Julian looked troubled, then smiled.
"Mr. Johnson, though today is my wedding, we’re both businessmen. I have a big deal I hope to discuss with you."
Julian’s words piqued Noah Johnson’s interest. He’d heard of Julian’s reputation and knew he was no ordinary man. He smiled.
"Then another day, I’ll visit in person. Julian Potter, please."
Noah Johnson spoke. I watched young Mr. Brown sneak another peach, oblivious to everything around him. Noah Johnson sighed—his youngest son was nothing like his brothers, no talent except for eating and sleeping, and even now, his speech was still unclear.
He was hardly the prosperous man Julian had described.
As soon as Julian Potter left the reception hall, he vomited violently, his face turning green—but he managed a smile.