CHAPTER 41: CALM ELDEST BROTHER

Wei Ji’s foot brushed the ground. The flower beneath him, the strange one that glowed faintly and pulsed with invisible energy, trembled. Then, as if it sensed his command, it folded into itself and melted into the soil. The transparent energy around it vanished, sucked down like smoke disappearing into water.

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then chaos exploded.

"What—what happened?!" someone screamed.

"Han Zukong! The Sword Shandian Sect representatives—!" another voice shouted.

"They—they fell! Look, they fainted!"

In a blink, everyone began to panic. The courtyard turned into a storm of shouting voices and rushing footsteps. Elders stumbled over each other trying to reach the fallen bodies. Servants dropped trays, porcelain clattered, and a young disciple’s voice cracked in fear as he shouted for help.

"Call the doctors!" Han Cui’s voice thundered over the noise, but no one moved fast enough. His face twisted with anger and fear. "What are you all standing for?! Move them to the guest rooms, now!"

Still, no one moved. They were frozen, eyes darting between the unconscious sect representatives and Han Zukong’s limp form.

Han Cui’s expression darkened even more. "NOW!" he roared, veins bulging from his neck.

That shout broke the spell. Servants scrambled forward, elders rushed to lift the unconscious men, and the courtyard turned into a whirl of hurried motion. Wei Ji stood still amidst the commotion, his face blank, as if he were only a bystander.

Han Zhanjian, pale and confused, rushed toward him. "Brother!" he called.

Wei Ji slowly turned his head. His eyes were sharp and cold. "What?" he asked, voice clipped, tone heavy with irritation.

Han Zhanjian hesitated, seeing that expression. It wasn’t rare for his eldest brother to look like that—calm but he’s too calm. He’s sure, with his sword eyes, he can perceive that his eldest brother was the culprit that made them end up like that.

Inside Wei Ji’s mind, he cursed. If this brat didn’t awaken Sword Eyes, I would’ve planted a soul seed in him already. But on the surface, his tone softened slightly. "Relax," he said. "I won’t harm them. I’ll just... punish him a little."

Han Zhanjian stepped closer, shaking his head. "Brother, please don’t. He’s your younger brother. As the eldest, you should be lenient, even if he threatened your wife."

Wei Ji’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Lenient?" he murmured. "You think I should show mercy after what he did?"

Before Han Zhanjian could reply, Wei Ji’s hand moved.

It was so fast that even Han Zhanjian’s glowing Sword Eyes—eyes said to predict movements before they happened—couldn’t keep up.

He saw the motion, tried to follow it, but Wei Ji’s arm blurred like a whip, bending and twisting unnaturally. His breath hitched, realizing too late what was happening.

A sharp snap! echoed.

Han Zhanjian’s head jerked back as Wei Ji’s hand struck his neck. His eyes went wide, lips parting to speak. "You—" he managed to say before his knees buckled and his body fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

He hit the ground with a dull thud.

Gasps filled the courtyard again.

"Han Zhanjian! What’s happening again?!"

"Someone—call for the physician again! Hurry!"

"The young master—he just collapsed!"

"What in heaven’s name is going on today?!"

The panic returned, louder and more frantic than before. Servants stumbled, elders shouted, and even the guests of the Han Family looked terrified. It felt like the entire estate was cursed that day.

But Wei Ji had already turned away, his expression calm, steps unhurried. His presence, his energy, everything about him suddenly faded—like mist blown away by the wind.

He walked through the chaos as if it had nothing to do with him. The noise behind him became a distant hum.

When he reached the other side of the courtyard, Lu Shaohua stood there quietly. Her long hair moved with the breeze, her face calm yet troubled. She had been watching everything.

Wei Ji stopped before her. His tone was casual, almost tired. "I took care of everything," he said. "The family head chef, his subordinates, and I made sure everyone who would dare to disrespect you again in this house—they won’t bother you again. Let’s go back to our residence. Too much has happened today. We need to rest."

Lu Shaohua didn’t move. Her gaze lingered on the fallen men behind him. Her lips parted slowly, her tone soft, hesitant. "Young master..." she said.

Wei Ji looked at her, puzzled. "What is it?"

For a moment, she didn’t speak. Then she looked into his eyes, voice quiet but clear. "Were you the one who made them faint?"

Wei Ji froze. The question hit harder than he expected. For a split second, he was stunned. He hadn’t thought she noticed.

But he quickly hid it behind a calm look. "Why do you ask that?" he said lightly.

Lu Shaohua lowered her eyes, thinking. "When Han Zukong fell, I saw something under your feet," she said. "It looked like a flower, but... it wasn’t a flower. It looked alive, but not real. And it was giving off some kind of strange air. It vanished when you moved your foot."

Wei Ji’s heart skipped a beat. Inside, he was shaken. She could see that?

That "flower" wasn’t something ordinary eyes could perceive. It was made of pure spiritual energy, invisible to mortals. Even low-level cultivators wouldn’t notice it unless they were trained.

But she had.

Impossible, he thought. Unless...

Right. Right. He realized. The Celestial Demon Heart inside her was awakened, so things like allowing her to perceive things beyond mortal sight should be normal. Wei Ji shouldn’t be that surprised. Her cultivation level keeps climbing and climbing after all.

He looked at her again. Her eyes weren’t glowing, but there was a faint glimmer in them—something sharp, something aware.

"She can feel spiritual energy," he thought silently. "It’s starting earlier than I expected."

Lu Shaohua waited for his answer, her brows knitting slightly. "Young master," she said again. "You won’t tell me?"

Wei Ji sighed softly. He rubbed his neck, trying to hide his thoughts behind a faint smile. "You’ve grown sharp," he said. "Most people wouldn’t have seen that."

She blinked, still unsure. "Then... it was you?"

He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he turned his gaze to the side, watching the servants carry the unconscious bodies away. His eyes softened slightly, but there was a quiet weight behind them.

Finally, he said, "You’re starting to see things others can’t. That’s not normal."

Lu Shaohua frowned a little. "What do you mean?"

"It means," Wei Ji said, stepping closer and lowering his voice, "that the world you think you know... isn’t the only one that exists."

Her breath caught. She could feel something in his tone—something both frightening and fascinating.

Wei Ji studied her face, then asked, "Would you like to know about it?"

Lu Shaohua hesitated. Her eyes flicked to the courtyard again, where people still shouted in confusion. Then she looked back at him.

"About what?" she asked softly. "Why you made them faint... or that strange thing under your feet?"

Wei Ji’s lips curved slightly, almost into a smile. The wind brushed his hair aside, and for a brief moment, the cold light in his eyes faded, replaced by quiet amusement.

"Both," he said. "But one at a time."

The noise behind them slowly died down as the last of the unconscious men were carried away.

The air grew still.

Only the two of them remained in the middle of the courtyard—one calm, the other curious, both standing at the edge of a secret that could change everything.