120: Chapter 120 Anyone who shows disrespect will be killed.

Jiang Feng did not roar, nor did he yell.

He simply looked quietly at the top of the wooden stake.

He looked at that long-since cold corpse, at the shocking whip marks covering its entire body.

That was Xiaomei.

A little girl who would blush at a single word from him.

A little girl who mustered all her courage to take off her animal skin clothes, only for him to laugh and say, "Let's wait a bit longer."

Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei.

Very good.

Jiang Feng knew this was a warning, and also a test.

Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei was using this method to tell him that she was the true master of the Chilian Tribe, and that everyone's life and death rested on her whim.

The boiling killing intent in Jiang Feng's heart slowly subsided; now was not the time to tear off the mask of civility.

He gently carried down Xiaomei's corpse.

His movements were as if he were not holding a corpse in his arms, but a rare treasure of glazed glass, afraid that even a little force would break it.

Carrying her, he walked step by step toward his own wooden house.

Wherever he passed, the crowd retreated to both sides like a tide; no one dared to stop him, and no one even dared to meet his gaze.

Returning to the front of the wooden house, Jiang Feng laid Xiaomei's body flat on the ground.

Then, he turned around and looked at the wooden house that Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei had ordered to be rebuilt, which was several times more exquisite than before.

Amidst everyone's puzzled gazes, he raised his foot and kicked the wall of the wooden house hard.

Boom!

The sturdy wooden wall shattered in response, wood chips flying everywhere.

He did not stop.

Punching and kicking.

One hit, then another.

The entire Chilian Tribe could hear the dull, rhythmic sound of the impact.

"What... what is he doing? Is he crazy?"

"That wooden house was specially built for him by the Young Mistress, and he actually dared to tear it down!"

"This man is completely insane!"

Jiang Feng ignored the whispers in the distance.

Soon, half of the wooden house had been torn down by him into a pile of planks of various lengths.

He selected the thickest and flattest pieces, sat down cross-legged, and using his fingers like knives, he began to cut and join the planks.

A simple, yet angular coffin gradually took shape.

This scene made all the onlookers shut their mouths.

A coffin?

Using a coffin for a slave girl?

In the Yunmeng Marsh, let alone a slave girl, even if a war slave died, they would just be wrapped in a straw mat.

Only the lineage of the tribal leader deserved a coffin; this was a deeply rooted rule for thousands of years!

And this man was trampling on everyone's perceptions and the tribe's rules in the most direct and brutal way.

Jiang Feng carefully placed Xiaomei's corpse into the coffin and closed the lid.

On the ruins he had razed with his own hands, he dug a deep pit, placed the coffin inside, and filled it with soil.

Finally, he picked up a sharpened wooden stake and stuck it in front of the grave to serve as a tombstone.

After finishing all this, Jiang Feng looked around, observing the complex gazes of shock, disdain, and envy.

His voice was not loud, but it carried determination.

"This place shall be the Forbidden Ground of the Chilian Tribe."

"The person in this grave is one of my own."

"If anyone shows disrespect, I will kill them!"

As his voice fell, he turned around and walked into the remaining half of the dilapidated wooden house, ignoring the turmoil outside.

That day, everyone in the Chilian Tribe remembered one thing.

That white-haired Third War Slave was a complete madman.

For a dead slave girl, he tore down the house bestowed by the Young Mistress, built a grave for her, erected a tombstone, and even went so far as to defy the rules of the entire tribe.

Some sneered, thinking he was extremely stupid.

Some watched coldly, waiting to see how he would end.

There were also a very small number of slave girls who, upon seeing that lonely grave, revealed a hint of envy in their eyes that they dared not even admit to themselves.

Just a slave, yet she could receive such a grand burial after death.

...

That night, the moon was dark and the wind was high.

A figure quietly left the dilapidated wooden house, avoiding all hidden sentries, and crept toward the other end of the tribe, the area belonging to Shangguan Wuqing.

Shangguan Wuqing's residence was heavily guarded.

As soon as Jiang Feng approached, two shadows appeared before him like ghosts, their curved blades unsheathed, their killing intent chilling.

Black Cloud Thirteen Guards!

Jiang Feng stopped in his tracks, not making a move.

"I have come to find Shangguan Wuqing; I do not wish to fight." He said straightforwardly.

The two Black Cloud Guards looked at each other, clearly not believing him.

But the calm yet dangerous aura on Jiang Feng made them dare not act rashly.

One of them turned and left, returning a moment later to coldly spit out one word at Jiang Feng.

"Enter."

Inside the stone house, the lights were bright.

Shangguan Wuqing sat cross-legged on a fur rug, seemingly regulating her breath; those two drops of lightning fluid were clearly of great benefit to her injuries.

She looked at Jiang Feng as he entered, her face showing no emotion.

"What have you come here for?"

"To make a deal." Jiang Feng did not waste words. "I need two things: red fire crystal, and what your tribe calls soul-extinguishing grass."

He believed that with Shangguan Wuqing's status as the first heir, plus the fact that she controlled the red sun stone mine, these two things would not be difficult for her.

"Oh?" Shangguan Wuqing finally opened her eyes, examining him with interest. "My sister could also give you these things. Why did you come to find me? Just for a dead slave girl?"

In her view, Jiang Feng's shocking actions during the day were nothing more than acting on impulse, and now that he had calmed down, he should understand the consequences of offending Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei.

Coming to find her was nothing more than wanting to seek another backer.

"You only need to answer: will you give them to me, or not?" Jiang Feng had no interest in explaining.

Shangguan Wuqing smiled; this smile was like an iceberg thawing, carrying a breathtaking beauty.

"Why should I give them to you?"

"Because of this."

Jiang Feng extended his hand, and five drops of purple lightning fluid, radiating vigorous vitality, floated quietly in his palm.

"Or..." He changed the subject, the corner of his mouth curling up, "Because of me."

Shangguan Wuqing's breathing hitched slightly, her gaze moving back and forth between the five drops of lightning fluid and Jiang Feng's face, a flash of burning intensity deep in her eyes.

"How many do you want?" she asked.

"Ten stalks of soul-extinguishing grass, ten red fire crystals."

Jiang Feng tossed the five drops of lightning fluid casually.

Shangguan Wuqing caught them precisely, and feeling the pure lightning power within, she had no more doubts.

"Deal." She put away the lightning fluid. "In two days, the items will be delivered to you."

As for what Jiang Feng said about "because of me," she tacitly chose not to mention it again.

Having received the promise, Jiang Feng turned and left.

"Wait." Shangguan Wuqing suddenly called out to him. "Aren't you afraid that I'll take the items and not give you the goods?"

Jiang Feng paused, not looking back.

"You can try."

These four faint words seemed to lower the temperature inside the stone house by a few degrees.

Watching his disappearing back, Shangguan Wuqing held the five drops of lightning fluid, remaining silent for a long time.

...

The matter of Jiang Feng's transaction with Shangguan Wuqing naturally could not be hidden from Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei's eyes and ears.

When she learned that Jiang Feng had actually used five drops of lightning fluid to exchange for those things, the wine cup in her hand was crushed, sharp fragments piercing her palm, blood dripping down mixed with wine.

This man would rather give such precious lightning fluid to her arch-rival than lower his head and concede to her?

Just for a dead slave girl?

Her chest heaved, and an inexplicable sense of irritation and loss of control surged into her heart.

"Young Mistress."

Just at this moment, an effeminate voice came from outside the door.

A tall, thin man in black with an ordinary face and sharp, somewhat sinister eyes walked in silently and knelt on one knee.

The Chilian Tribe's Second War Slave, Eye.

This person was skilled in tracking and spying, and was Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei's sharpest eye.

"You've returned?" Young Mistress Shangguan Wulei suppressed the irritation in her heart, her voice returning to coldness.

"Yes, Young Mistress." Eye raised his head, his face carrying a hint of excitement. "I did not fail the mission; they agreed!"