22: Chapter 22 My fate is in my own hands, not in the heavens!

Another three days passed.

On this day, the setting sun dyed the horizon orange-red outside the cold, heavy black stone gate of the Hall of Law Enforcement.

A figure paced anxiously back and forth in front of the gate, her skirt fluttering gently in the evening breeze.

It was Ye Yun.

Her delicate face bore obvious worry. Her clear eyes glanced frequently at the tightly shut gate, and her slender, jade-like fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes.

Yesterday, her mistress, Ye Xishui, had personally told her that arrangements had been made, and Ye Wushuang would be released today.

So, she had rushed here at the first light of dawn, eagerly anticipating the moment she would see the brother Wushuang she had been worrying about.

She had waited from the break of dawn until twilight.

The last rays of the setting sun stretched the shadows long.

Finally, accompanied by the piercing screech of a door opening.

Two expressionless disciples from the Hall of Law Enforcement dragged out a middle-aged man, his body limp and in a wretched state.

They casually tossed him onto the stone steps before the gate like garbage, then turned and left without a backward glance.

The man had sparse hair, revealing a shiny bald patch. It was Ye Wushuang, who had been imprisoned for seven days. Now, he looked haggard and gaunt, like a dead dog.

"Brother Wushuang!"

Ye Yun exclaimed in shock, her slender figure immediately darting forward like a gentle breeze.

She carefully crouched down, extending her fair, soft hands to help him up with all her strength.

Her movements were gentle yet firm, her eyes full of heartache.

Supported by Ye Yun, Ye Wushuang managed to stand shakily. He shook off her hand and faced the direction of the Hall of Law Enforcement's tightly shut gate.

His face twisted with extreme humiliation and hatred. Mustering all his strength, he let out a cold snort, then straightened his battered back. His voice was hoarse but abnormally loud:

"Hmph! Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river! Do not bully the young for being poor! The humiliation I, Ye Wushuang, suffered today, I will repay a hundredfold in the future!"

Just as he shouted this signature line, a certain dormant existence within his storage ring—an ancient dragon soul remnant—

was almost 'angered' into dissipating once more.

Over these seven days, this line, 'Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river! Do not bully the young for being poor!', Ye Wushuang had repeated it at least a hundred times!

The dragon soul felt its remnant soul grow even dimmer under the impact of this obsession.

It found it utterly absurd:

He clearly looked like an old uncle, well past his youth, yet he kept spouting 'young and poor' every day.

If this was a sickness, it was truly incurable!

"Brother Wushuang, a-are you alright? Are you badly hurt anywhere?" Ye Yun asked, her voice choked with sobs as she looked at his battered state. She reached out again, wanting to check his injuries.

"I'm fine!"

Ye Wushuang roughly brushed aside her concerned hand, appearing extremely impatient. His eyes fixed urgently on Ye Yun as he asked in a hurried tone:

"I ask you, how are Chen Zilong and Ye Xishui now?"

"Young Master and the Mistress?" Ye Yun was taken aback by his sudden change in attitude.

Suppressing a twinge of discomfort, she maintained her dignified posture and answered softly, "I know about the Mistress. These past few days, she has been running around everywhere pleading for your release. She has grown much more haggard."

"As for Young Master... I'm not too sure."

Her delicate brows furrowed slightly as she recalled, "The day after the wedding ceremony, he went into seclusion with Immortal Venerable Liu Mei to cultivate. He hasn't emerged since."

"Then... then that means..." Hearing this, Ye Wushuang's pupils contracted sharply.

His face instantly turned deathly pale. His body swayed as if struck by a bolt from the blue.

His voice trembled, carrying a tone of near-desperate verification:

"That good-for-nothing Chen Zilong has already... has already consummated the marriage with... with Senior Sister Xishui?!"

Ye Yun took half a step back, startled by his reaction and words. Her bright, autumn-water-like eyes widened, her face filled with confusion and a hint of disapproval:

"Brother Wushuang, what are you saying? Isn't that... only natural? Young Master and the Mistress are Dao companions."

Her tone held a matter-of-fact certainty.

"What?! Ah!!!" Ye Wushuang exploded like a beast whose tail had been stepped on!

He threw his head back, veins bulging on his neck, and let out a shrill, despairing, and resentful roar towards the darkening sky:

"Chen Zilong!!! I, Ye Wushuang, swear here and now! In this lifetime, I will definitely slaughter your entire family! I will grind your bones to dust!"

Ye Yun was utterly terrified by this sudden, crazed outburst. She covered her heart, the color draining from her face, her voice panicked:

"Brother Wushuang! Wh-what on earth are you doing!"

"Young Master and the Mistress are Dao companions. That is their own affair, perfectly proper and right!"

"Why are you so furious?"

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Because Ye Xishui is the woman I, Ye Wushuang, saw first!" Ye Wushuang whirled towards Ye Yun, his eyes bloodshot.

Burning with a mad possessiveness and jealousy, he practically roared the words.

"What?!"

Ye Yun gasped in shock, looking at the seemingly deranged Ye Wushuang with disbelief.

Both she and Ye Wushuang were family slaves of the Ye family!

How could her Brother Wushuang...

How could he entertain such presumptuous thoughts about the Mistress?

This was simply treasonous!

A cold sense of detachment spread clearly in her heart for the first time.

"Brother Wushuang!"

Ye Yun's voice rose several pitches with shock and disappointment.

She struggled to maintain her composure as a maid, but her brows were knit with heartache and reproach, "The Mistress showed us great kindness and recognition!"

"It was she who promoted you, gave you opportunities, and even made an exception to let you become a disciple of the Xuantian Sect!"

"How could you... how could you harbor such insubordinate thoughts?"

"This is ingratitude!"

"Kindness and recognition? Ha!" Ye Wushuang sneered as if hearing the biggest joke, his face filled with disdain and arrogance.

He roughly shoved away Ye Yun, who was trying to approach again. Ignoring his injuries, he forced himself to clasp his hands behind his back and straighten his posture, attempting a stance that looked down upon the world.

The last rays of the setting sun fell on his wretched yet forcibly proud face, creating an extremely awkward sense of absurdity.

In a voice he believed was full of power, but was actually hysterical, he proclaimed:

"She merely took a fancy to my top-grade fire spiritual root and my one-in-ten-thousand Supreme Sword Body!"

"I, Ye Wushuang, am destined to be extraordinary from birth! I am destined to accomplish earth-shattering, monumental deeds!"

His eyes flashed with fanatical light, his voice growing even louder, echoing in the empty space before the Hall of Law Enforcement:

"A golden carp is no mere creature of the pond!"

"My fate is mine to command! Not even the heavens can control me!"

"I am the child of destiny! Destiny's invincible!"

"Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river! Do not bully the young for being poor!"

This signature slogan was once again shouted out with all his might, as if to dispel all humiliation.

Watching this figure roaring 'Destiny's invincible!' and 'Do not bully the young for being poor!' in the twilight, the germinating sense of annoyance in Ye Yun's heart rapidly spread like ripples on water.

Ten years ago, it was precisely this appearance of his—full of lofty ambitions, vowing to defy fate—that had deeply attracted her.

A single 'Do not bully the young for being poor' had secretly captured the heart of her younger, naive self, making her utterly infatuated.

Back then, in her eyes, he was like the heroic protagonist from storybooks, one who would rise after enduring hardships.

But a full ten years had passed...

Her Brother Wushuang, apart from growing older and losing hair,

this posture, this declaration, even this indignation, had not changed in the slightest.

A decade of the same 'monumental deeds', a decade of the same 'destiny', a decade of the same 'Do not bully the young for being poor'...

Ye Yun felt a deep weariness and disappointment.

But then, a twinge of guilt welled up in her heart.

She remembered how Ye Wushuang had used his meager savings back then to buy her, saving her from nearly being sold into a brothel, allowing her to enter the Ye family.

Even if only as a family slave, she was far from the sufferings of the mortal world, able to live a stable life within an immortal household.

She could not forget this debt of gratitude.

'Brother Wushuang is perhaps just... holding onto a stubborn drive, unwilling to be mediocre for a lifetime... He just has an ambition higher than the heavens...'

Ye Yun tried hard to convince herself, attempting to forcibly suppress the fermenting sense of annoyance.

She took a deep breath, forcing a slightly stiff yet still gentle smile onto her face. She lightly clapped her hands, encouraging him in a tone she tried to make sound sincere:

"Brother Wushuang, you... you're right!"

"You are exceptionally gifted. You are sure to achieve great things!"

Her applause sounded particularly thin and lonely in the empty space before the gate.

Soon, with an indescribably complex mood, Ye Yun once again carefully helped up Ye Wushuang, who was still immersed in his 'Destiny's invincible' aura.

Their figures wobbled as they rose into the air, flying towards the direction of Purple Bamboo Peak, merging into the vast, twilight sky.

The evening breeze brushed past Ye Yun's cheeks, carrying a hint of coolness, but it could not disperse the shadow that had quietly deepened between her brows.