**Source:** [Insert source here, if applicable]

A biting wind lashed against the face.

At such breakneck speed, without the shield of *Yuan* protection, it was akin to enduring a punishing gale. Amidst the shrill whine of the wind, Lin Zheng-ren felt an agonizing torment on his flesh. His neck was seized from behind, held as if one might grasp a dog, a humiliating, undignified hold. His four limbs hung limply, dangling in the air…

He had no leisure to ponder his ignoble appearance. His entire being, every thought, was consumed by a single, pressing concern:

How to survive this?

At the Yellow River Assembly, as the chosen *proud son of heaven* representing the nation in battle, he had succumbed to a backlash of *blood ghost energy*, withdrawing before even stepping onto the stage. He had claimed a place in the main contest, yet failed to even ascend the *View River Platform*. Zhuang Country was on the cusp of becoming the world’s jest. To set foot upon the *View River Platform*, Zhuang Country had expended the efforts of generations. To cleanse this stain of shame might require even more time.

As a son of Zhuang Country, while Lin Zheng-ren did not genuinely feel this shared humiliation, he forced himself to embrace that sensation, recognizing that only by grasping the depth of the nation’s shame could he truly comprehend Du Ru-hui’s wrath. Only by deeply understanding Du Ru-hui’s anger could he unearth a sliver of hope for his own survival.

Thus, facing the wind, he squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face. A dignified *proud son of heaven* of a nation, usually capable of looking down upon his peers, now appeared utterly wretched, utterly disgraced. Du Ru-hui, known for his magnanimity, showed him not an iota of respect. This, of course, was because he had been utterly cast aside.

At this moment, as he allowed himself to feel the weight of it, a profound sorrow swelled within, bringing forth unstoppable tears. He himself could not discern whether this overwhelming sense of shame stemmed from being held like a small dog by the scruff of his neck, or from the nation’s shame settling upon his own.

He could clearly feel the grip’s texture on his neck, and more acutely, the unwavering resolve conveyed through that hand. Du Ru-hui harbored killing intent.

He did not regret his initial decision to vomit blood and forfeit. For Jiang Wang, who had swept the field, was undeniably the world’s foremost *inner mansion* cultivator. Had he rashly attempted a sudden, lethal strike at that untested edge, even a true monarch like Yu Xi might have overlooked it. The eight matches of the main contest were held concurrently. His bout with Jiang Wang was certainly not the most watched, and True Monarch Yu Xi might not have paid it close attention. And given Jiang Wang’s formidable divine soul strength that had decisively defeated Xiang Bei, he could have been slain on the divine soul level multiple times in an instant. It was too perilous.

Even with the host of the Yellow River Assembly, a *derive path* expert like Yu Xi… it was still too risky. Had Dong Guo Bao not perished? And what of Tu Ying? Though not dead, how much better off was he? His puppet required rebuilding, his strange beast needed to be re-searched and re-raised… how much cultivation time would that consume? It was tantamount to being crippled! Stepping onto the stage was a gamble with one’s life, and he was unwilling to wager.

In truth, he had pondered it thoroughly. After Zhu Wei-wo’s departure, of all of Zhuang Country, he possessed the most exceptional talent. He Ba-dao and Duan Li had both been ruined before Lock Dragon Pass. The other *outer building* cultivators were decidedly average. Zhuang Country currently had no other hope for a future *divine arrival* figure. After Du Ru-hui, there was no successor.

He, Lin Zheng-ren, was undoubtedly the one with the greatest potential. A *proud son of heaven* capable of reaching the main contest of the Yellow River Assembly naturally possessed the possibility of achieving *divine arrival*. To Zhuang Country, he held a certain importance. This much was evident from Du Ru-hui’s formerly benevolent attitude towards him. This was his leverage. And he had claimed that his forfeit, by destroying the *blood ghost*, was a great sacrifice to preserve the nation’s face, a bitter heart he believed Du Xiang should recognize.

But from the current situation, it seemed he had overestimated his own importance and underestimated the significance of the Yellow River Assembly…

On the former point, did Zhuang Gao-xian and Du Ru-hui, sovereign and minister, truly have no other choice? Who else was there? That Fu Bao-song, whose face he had publicly trampled upon? That Li Jian-qiu, whom he had effortlessly defeated? Or that crude brute Du Ye-hu from the army, who only knew how to fight with his life on the line?

On the latter point, Jing Emperor’s subsequent pronouncement was a scene he had never in a million years anticipated. The problem had instantly escalated manifold! Jing Emperor’s words implied that the distribution of interests belonging to Zhuang Country at this Yellow River Assembly had been completely nullified. And the shame he had brought upon Zhuang Country was to be re-examined.

These past two days, waiting for the outcome on the *View River Platform*, every breath had been torment. For he understood that after the Yellow River Assembly concluded, that would be the moment for the Zhuang Court to settle accounts with him. Zhuang Gao-xian was not a stingy monarch; on the contrary, he was exceptionally generous. To meritorious ministers, he was willing to reward them in any manner. But there was one crucial point: this Zhuang Lord’s rewards, or rather, “investments,” must yield a return.

The nation had sent him to the *View River Platform*, the Prime Minister himself had escorted him, personally guided him, not hesitating to create a rift with a first-tier vassal state like Sheng Country, all to support him in defeating Jiang Li-meng… It was all for the glory on the *View River Platform* and the interests associated with the Yellow River Assembly. In the end, only shame and loss were harvested. Moreover, he had left a poor impression on Jing Emperor, and the host of the assembly, True Monarch Yu Xi from Yu Jing Mountain, would inevitably harbor ill will towards him… This entire venture had resulted in a complete loss of capital!

Thinking back and forth, as a wagered chip, he struggled to see any hope of survival. He had, of course, considered escape, but he knew it was utterly impossible. These past two days, he had adopted a posture of complete resignation. He wept bitterly, admitting his cowardice and fear of death, confessing that his fear had become uncontrollable upon knowing his opponent was Jiang Wang. He was in agony, filled with self-reproach, indicating his willingness to accept any punishment while simultaneously hoping that his useful body could somehow redeem itself… And Du Ru-hui had remained utterly silent. This unspoken attitude terrified him.

Now, as the Yellow River Assembly had just ended, Du Ru-hui had simply lifted him and flown him back to Zhuang Country, like a dog awaiting slaughter being dragged to the butcher’s block. He didn’t even bother to put on the slightest pretense before others – or perhaps, displaying Zhuang Country’s contempt for this coward was Du Ru-hui’s form of pretense.

What was he to do?

He had no ability to re-influence the interests at the Yellow River Assembly. Away from such a grand event as the Yellow River Assembly, compared to the world situation, the strength of young *proud sons* was still too weak. And his own value… Although he himself claimed his value was exceptionally high, far exceeding that of Fu Bao-song or Li Jian-qiu. But perhaps in the eyes of Zhuang Gao-xian and Du Ru-hui, a Lin Zheng-ren who died on the *View River Platform* could embody more value than a Lin Zheng-ren who lingered on.

The truth of Maple Forest City, which he had deduced and hinted at to Zhu Wei-wo, how could he not know how this pair of monarch and minister would consider it! These two would only contrast the him who died in battle with the him who lived on. Thus, he, who was currently the foremost of Zhuang Country’s young generation, was now also being held by the scruff of his neck, dangling like a small dog!

What was he to do!

Lin Zheng-ren strained to gather his strength, his voice difficult to project amidst the piercing wind: “Zheng-ren knows he deserves ten thousand deaths to atone for this sin. But fortunately, everyone in the Unlimited Field forfeited; our Zhuang Country is not conspicuous…”

The wind continued to howl.

His “reminder” clearly failed to move Du Ru-hui. The nature of his forfeit was entirely different from the others. He himself, of course, was perfectly clear on this. But he still had to mention it, to fight for a sliver of hope for himself. The path was carved out step by step. Even if there was just a sliver of possibility, he would not abandon it.

Enduring the bone-chilling wind knives for a while longer, Lin Zheng-ren spoke again: “I truly hate my own incompetence, that I could not stand my ground. That treacherous minister and thief Jiang Wang actually seized the champion title. That person harbors such hatred for the nation, possesses such talent, has this champion title, and is strong in Qi. He has already become a thorn in the heart of our Zhuang Country!”

The clouds in the distance retreated rapidly, and the wind knives persisted. Lin Zheng-ren asked with difficulty: “Have you not considered… how to deal with him?”

Amidst the piercing wind, Du Ru-hui’s voice finally rang out: “That is no longer your concern.”

A breath of relief eased in Lin Zheng-ren’s heart, but his face twisted into even greater pain: “Yes… I am already a dead man. Whether I worry or not is insignificant. Only… cough cough cough!” He swallowed several mouthfuls of wind, coughing violently for a while, then continued: “If you decide to deal with him, I am a very useful tool. My entire clan died by his hand; we share a deep blood feud. I am merely his stain, my very existence is proof of his evil deeds.”

Du Ru-hui suddenly halted his movement, still holding Lin Zheng-ren by the scruff of his neck with one hand, half lifting him up, and looking down at him. The usually benevolent Du Ru-hui, in this state, exuded a touch of a nation’s prime minister’s authority. He gazed deeply at Lin Zheng-ren: “I am now seriously doubting whether your Lin clan’s entire family… was truly killed by Jiang Wang.”

The distrust and revulsion in those words were so palpable, yet the great stone in Lin Zheng-ren’s heart instead fell. Only if he truly intended to utilize this matter would Du Ru-hui need to consider its veracity. Thus, he… had found value in himself to the other!

Lin Zheng-ren struggled to control his pained expression, forcing himself to appear more humble, more compliant: “Wangjiang City is Zhuang Country’s Wangjiang City. As for whether this matter is true, it can be as true as you wish it to be. I am willing to cooperate in any way.”

No sound of response followed. The fierce wind howled past, a wisp of thin cloud drifting, spinning in lonely isolation in the air.