The Next morining
After a long twelve-hour journey, the train finally reached Bo City—a medium-sized town tucked between hills. Houses appeared along the roadside, simple and modest, their tiled roofs weathered but sturdy. Narrow alleys wound between them.
Compared to the Mu Clan's grand estate back home, Bo City felt humble.
Yet there was warmth here—an unspoken sense of community, of familiarity carried in the air.
"Elder Ning, the car is ready," Pan Xi said respectfully.
Fang Ning nodded, and together they stepped outside. A sleek black car waited by the entrance, engine humming softly. The driver opened the door as they approached, and the three entered, beginning the final stretch of their arrival.
The car slowed to a stop before the Bo City Mu Clan Residence—a manor not as vast as the one in the main family grounds, but still respectable, its gate carved with the Mu family emblem. Standing at the entrance were two middle-aged men, their features strikingly similar—same posture, same sharp eyes—clearly blood relatives.
Beside them stood a girl around Mu Feng's age, her long silver hair fluttering in the breeze. Her presence was cool, distant, yet impossibly captivating. Also present was a boy of the same age as the girl.
The doors opened, and they stepped out.
The man at the front took a step forward and cupped his hands politely.
"Welcome, Elder.
I am Mu Zhuoyun, overseer of the Mu Clan estate here in Bo City."
He placed a hand lightly on the shoulder of the man beside him.
"And this is my younger brother, Mu He—head of security."
His eyes softened slightly as he gestured toward the girl.
"And this is my daughter, Mu Ningxue, and my adopted son, Mu Yuang."
Mu Ningxue's eyes swept over them—calm, unreadable.
Fang Ning returned a courteous nod.
"You may call me Elder Ning. This here is Pan Xi, and…"
He placed a hand on the young man beside him, pride concealed beneath restraint,
"my grandson, Mu Feng."
"Very well, Elder Ning. Please-join us for breakfast first."
Mu Zhuoyun smiled, warm and welcoming and lead them into the manor.
The manor was decorated lavishly, clearly showing wealth. Breakfast passed calmly—light conversation, Fang Ning asking about Bo City, its demon beast activity, its schools, its economy. Mu Zhuoyun answered politely, though at times his eyes flickered toward Mu Ningxue-subtle, worried.
Once the meal ended, Mu Zhuoyun guided them to their allotted residence within the estate-comfortable, private, prepared in advance. With formalities complete, he excused himself and left to attend clan matters.
Inside their assigned courtyard, Fang Ning's eyes sharpened.
"Pan Xi, Xiao Feng—come with me."
They followed him into his room, the door closing softly behind them.
The atmosphere shifted immediately—no host, no polite smiles—only truth.
All three sat.
Fang Ning looked to Pan Xi first.
"Report. What's the situation?"
Pan Xi exhaled slowly, voice low and precise.
"There is something wrong with her connection to the bow."
Mu Feng's brows twitched.
Pan Xi continued.
"It seems more deep than others, which is not possible considering she did not have it for long. So, Elder, I need some more time to confirm what is going on."
Silence.
Fang Ning's fingers tapped the table once.
"How long until you confirm the cause?"
"About a week, Elder. But I assure you—nothing will go wrong."
"Good."
Fang Ning nodded, voice soft yet sharp as steel.
"Proceed carefully. You may go."
Pan Xi bowed and left.
The door shut.
The tension dissolved.
Fang Ning leaned back, eyes narrowing in thought.
"Xiao Feng… who would have expected our branch clan in such a small city to hold this much intrigue?"
Mu Feng crossed his arms lightly, expression unreadable.
"Oh? What exactly caught Grandfather's attention?"
A slow, knowing smile curved across Fang Ning's lips.
"Mu He… and the boy, Mu Yuang."
He paused—voice dropping lower, colder.
"If I'm not wrong… those two have ties to the Black Vatican."
Mu Feng's eyes widened slightly.
"Black Vatican!? Grandpa, how can you be so certain?"
Fang Ning stared at him, gaze deep.
"My Curse Element. Their aura is like those who have cures beasts.
Only members of the Black Vatican have that kind of aura.
If my curse cultivation wasn't at Forbidden Level, I might not have noticed at all."
Mu Feng inhaled slowly.
Then: "So how are we going to deal with them?"
Fang Ning lifted a brow.
"How do you propose we deal with them?"
Mu Feng thought for a moment, expression composed.
"We observe. If Mu He has been here for years, he must have a mission.
If we learn his goal, we could manipulate him and benefit from the situation.
Two birds with one stone."
Fang Ning nodded approvingly.
"Very well. Since this is your judgement—you will investigate.
But remember… even a single mistake could cost your life."
"I understand."
Fang Ning dismissed him with a wave, and Mu Feng left.
Mu Feng's Room
Moonlight spilled across the floor as Mu Feng stood silently beside the window, staring out at Bo City's sleeping streets.
'So Grandpa noticed it immediately… as expected of a Forbidden Curse Mage.
Mu He being exposed opens opportunities. If I can use him… I could rise as a national hero.
But I must act carefully. The key might be his son… Mu Bai.'
His thoughts sharpened.
'If Mu Bai can be used, Mu He follows. If not… I must ask Grandfather for support.
But that is for later, as all plans require strength to be executed.'
He exhaled, closed the curtains, and sat cross-legged in meditative posture on the bed.
Next Morning
After breakfast, Mu Feng made his way to the pool. The water shimmered under the sunlight like rippling glass. There, reclining in a chair, was Mu Yuang, basking lazily under the sun.
Mu Feng approached and took the seat beside him.
Noticing him, Mu Yuang sat up straight—not stiff, but attentive.
"Good morning, Mr. Feng. Here to enjoy the sun too?"
Mu Feng smiled lightly.
"Just Feng is fine-we're the same age. No need to be formal."
Mu Yuang returned the smile.
"In that case, call me Yuang. Everyone does."
The conversation drifted casually—movies, music, trivial everyday things.
Mu Feng listened more than he spoke, gauging tone, expression, slips in words.
Then gently, he steered the topic.
"So Yuang, I heard you're Uncle Zhuoyun's adopted son.
How did you come to the Mu Clan?"
Yuang didn't hesitate-his tone open, natural.
"Uncle He introduced me when I was a kid. Later, Father adopted me officially."
Introduced by Mu He… as expected.
Mu Feng nodded thoughtfully, then asked with practiced innocence:
"I also heard Uncle He once took in another person.
Who was that?"
"Oh! You must mean Mu Bai," Yuang replied casually.
"He's from a side branch. His parents died young, and he was bullied a lot.
Uncle He took him in out of sympathy."
Mu Feng's eyes glinted faintly.
"I see. Thank you, Yuang."
They chatted lightly a little longer, then Mu Feng excused himself and left-mind already assembling plans like a puzzle.
Three Days Later
For the next few days, Mu Feng moved like a shadow-present yet unprovocative.
He pretended to investigate, asking harmless questions to servants, guards, even groundskeepers. He spoke with Mu Yuang several more times, never pushing too hard, never appearing too curious. Enough activity to seem diligent-yet shallow enough to draw no danger.
All the while, Mu Ningxue remained absent.
Not once did he see her-not in the courtyard, not in the halls, not even at dinner where her seat stayed neatly set but untouched. It was obvious:
Mu Zhuoyun was hiding her.
Whether it was caution, fear, or calculation-Mu Feng could not yet tell. But one thing was certain:
they suspected something.
Night - Fang Ning's Room
After dinner on the third night, Mu Feng walked through the silent corridor and stopped before his grandfather's door. He knocked once.
"Come in."
Mu Feng pushed the door open.
Fang Ning sat on the sofa, tea in hand, steam rising like pale silver threads in the dim light. His eyes lifted from the cup-calm but sharp.
"So, Xiao Feng," he spoke slowly, "why have you come?"
Mu Feng bowed slightly.
"Grandfather, I have found clues related to Mu He."
Fang Ning's eyes brightened-not surprised, but intrigued.
"Oh? Then speak."
Mu Feng stood tall.
"First—Mu He is almost certainly a long-term Black Vatican member, and not a low-ranked one."
Fang Ning's fingers paused against the porcelain.
"And what leads you to that conclusion?"
"Mu Yuang," Mu Feng replied.
"He mentioned that Mu He introduced him to Mu Zhuoyun when he was just ten—before awakening, before any talent was visible. There is no logic in recommending an ordinary child to the family head… unless Mu Yuang was already involved-or intended to be."
He continued:
"Also, Yuang speaks of Mu He with admiration-not like an uncle, but like a superior. Someone respected. Someone followed."
Fang Ning set his cup down, expression thoughtful.
"So… not just a member, but one with influence. And if he has been positioned here for years, then his mission must be important."
Mu Feng nodded.
"That is my belief."
Fang Ning leaned back, voice lower.
"And what else have you discovered?"
Mu Feng's lips curved slightly.
"I may have found a way to control Mu He."
Fang Ning raised a brow, interest sharpening like a drawn blade.
"Oh? Then tell me."
"There is someone named Mu Bai," Mu Feng said.
"I suspect he is Mu He's illegitimate son."
Fang Ning's eyes narrowed.
"And your evidence?"
"Servants talk. And maids love gossip."
Mu Feng's tone was steady-not proud, just factual. "Mu Bai's father was officially Mu He's subordinate, but rumor says Mu He was deeply involved with the man's wife. Too deeply. The timeline fits-and Mu Bai was cared for especially well."
Fang Ning exhaled softly-half amusement, half approval.
"Well done. Very well done."
His gaze sharpened, voice turning weighty.
"Now tell me, Xiao Feng… how should we proceed?"
"I will meet this Mu Bai first," Mu Feng said calmly, "and see if he has enough talent to be worth pulling under my wing. I'll visit the Bo City Magic High School, observe him, and maybe find other useful people to recruit. But…"
His eyes lowered slightly.
"In the end, I will need your help, Grandfather."
Fang Ning raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Oh? And here I thought you intended to handle this entire matter yourself."
Mu Feng smiled faintly—calculated, not embarrassed.
"Grandfather, I've done what I can within reach. But sometimes, direct pressure is faster than a long chess match. You possess the Curse Element. If persuasion fails…"
His voice grew sharper.
"You can make a man speak. Make him obey. Why walk a long road when we have a blade to cut straight through it?"
Fang Ning laughed softly—low, satisfied.
"You impress me more with every word, Xiao Feng. Well done."
He leaned back, eyes full of interest.
"Tomorrow, I'll have Mu Zhuoyun arrange a guide to take you to the magic high school. You can meet this Mu Bai with your own eyes."
He paused, then added:
"But before that—I will give you something for protection."
Fang Ning lifted his hand, a flicker of energy rippling through the air.
Three ornate boxes emerged from his storage space and landed on the table with a soft thud.
Mu Feng's pupils shrank slightly.
"Open them," Fang Ning instructed.
Mu Feng picked up the first box and slowly lifted the lid.
Inside lay a pair of miniature silver boots, inscriptions glowing like stars.
"These are the Space Walker Magic Boots. A rare spatial artifact. They allow high-level blink magic—ten uses per full charge. Range: 500 meters per blink. Escape, surprise, assassination—you may outrun even Commander-level demons with these."
Mu Feng placed them aside with reverence and opened the second box.
Inside rested a ring, smooth silver with emerald lines like wind currents frozen in metal.
"That," Fang Ning continued, "is the Magic Wing Ring. Wearing it grants flight at the level of a High-level Tier-3 Wind Magic Wings."
The last box opened with a soft metallic click.
Inside lay dark golden scaled armor, faintly pulsing like a resting beast.
"This is armor forged from the scales of a False Emperor-level Lesser Dragon," Fang Ning said quietly.
"It renders you immune to most poisons, and can withstand a Super Level One spell head-on. With this, even assassination attempts will struggle to harm you."
Mu Feng's breath hitched—not with shock, but controlled excitement.
With respect, he bowed his head and placed his hand over the armor.
"I will not waste these gifts."
"Good." Fang Ning nodded once. "Bind them with your blood and spiritual imprint. From today onward, these will answer only to you."
Mu Feng did so. One by one, the artifacts synced to him—mana threads weaving into his soul. When he finished, he rose and bowed once more.
"Then, I shall be ready for tomorrow."
He left the room quietly, but his steps carried energy—anticipation, hunger, ambition.
Tomorrow, he would enter the school.
Tomorrow, he would meet Mu Bai.
Tomorrow, he would begin to pull strings, one by one.