Dong ZhenKang always found himself standing at the same window. Ever since the Hu ancestor showed up. Time and again he would stand there, hands behind his back, contemplating life and the choices he made so far.

Questioning whether they were the right decisions.

Never had he been afflicted with so much doubt and uncertainty. His plans had always been absolute. Not an inch of space given for these whispers and gremlins that told him lies or what the worst possibilities looked like.

Yet, here he was. Imagining how the Hu ancestor would kick his doors open. Question him for his plotting and deceptions. And then finally, after grueling torture, he would decapitate Dong ZhenKang to present his head in front of everyone. An example to be remembered.

He couldn't help it.

Especially when no one had heard anything from the Black Widows in nearly six days. Especially when a fucking Qi Storm filled with Heavenly fucking Lightning just so happened to roll by the night the assassination was supposed to occur.

Other than those two key pieces of information. It had been quiet. A flash of the dragons' intent he expected, but they never moved. Frozen in their spots. Then they disappeared in nearly ten seconds. As though they had not been there at all.

Dong ZhenKang had even started questioning if they had shown up. Had it been his overactive imagination? Remnants of the time he had been poisoned by the Twelve Vipers of Leisha. Dong ZhenKang had hallucinated an entire battle. Killing nearly a third of his own forces before finally coming to his senses. That had not been a good time.

But it had its benefits.

Allowed him to instill fear into his followers and subjects for the first time. Establish a new rule. Lord over them as a king and master rather than just leader and caretaker. It had been an important step caused by misfortune. Good coming from the bad.

The gates to his gathering hall squeaked open. Dong ZhenKang frowned. He had completely forgotten about his plan to encourage the person responsible for maintaining the doors. Too busy worrying about what had happened the past few days to care about such mundane things.

Someone stepped in. A wave of overwhelming perfume filled his hall immediately. Sickly sweet and suffocating.

Dong ZhenKang immediately closed his eyes and allowed himself a mental sigh.

The slimiest individual he had ever met sauntered in by themselves. Short, chubby, always sweaty, and with wisps of hair combed sideways. Doing nothing to hide his baldness. The sleazy smile. Too much perfume that invaded the senses.

"Can you even see your pretty little thing through the rain?" The fat man said, voice nasal and followed by a snort. Chuckling at his own hidden jokes.

Dong ZhenKang tried to hide the hate and disdain he had for him, but found it impossible. "Lang Tu."

He turned to fully see the old, pale man. A weak Gaseous core cultivator. Had this been a normal case, Dong ZhenKang would have executed him and nine generations removed. Torturing the next seven generations as a reminder to never utter Lang Tu's name ever again.

Maybe salt the fields of the village he had been born in? Execute the midwives that helped give birth to the disgusting whelp. He wasn't sure it would satisfy him. No he would need to kill everyone that had ever associated with Lang Tu to feel the sliminess escape him.

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But no. Not this Gaseous core filth.

Lang Tu was special.

A representative sent by the Spider Cult Valley. Sent to keep an eye out for them and report anything that occurred in the village quickly. But, Dong ZhenKang knew better. Lang Tu was nothing more than a disposable member they sent to trap him.

Worthless mouthpiece.

Hoping he would be infuriated enough to kill or harm the insufferable, short, fat, ugly, pot marked filth. An unknowing sacrificial lamb sent to the slaughter. Issue was that Lang Tu didn't know that. Attempting to lord over everything and everyone, screaming out his clan and sect name as soon as anyone got close enough to hurt him.

Dong ZhenKang would not fall for such a trap. One he had used before. He knew the second he killed the bastard, an army of Spider Cult Valley demonic cultivators would flood his bandit town. Larger groups that lorded over the spiders would come in to stop the ensuing battle between them. Eventually crushing him because he was less valuable to keep the Spider Cult Valley happy and content to send out more forces in their fight against the fake righteous clans.

"I thought you were in seclusion," Dong ZhenKang said. Knowing well that it had been Lang Tu that ratted him out and caused the Black Widows to appear at his doorstep. "Working on finally being anything more than a disappointment."

Lang Tu smiled. His eyes did not shift at all. Fake. "Isn't the weather strange? Heavenly Lightning. I don't suppose you are attempting to break through to the next major realm?"

Dong ZhenKang stared at him. Immediately his mind began to work, breaking down everything he was saying, the tone, timing, every tiny detail he could make out from those few scant words. Things hidden in between the uttered words.

It hit him. He did not like what he figured out.

They don't know what happened either. Attempting to fish for information from me.

He turned away from Lang Tu. Trying to hide his shock and expression from him. His mind was in overdrive now. Unable to stop it from unintentional plotting and planning. But he would not act upon it. He needed to figure out what was going on.

More importantly, what the hell happened to the Black Widows. Had they even encountered the Hu ancestor or did they make a mistake and wake up a hidden monster or sage hiding under a rock within the bandit town.

Hidden masters. Hidden sages. Hidden legends tired of the worldly life and only wanted solitude. Just waiting for some idiot to insult them.

Lang Tu cleared his throat.

"If I had ascended to the next realm. I would have executed you already, Lang Tu." Dong ZhenKang did not even shift slightly. Freezing his expression and subconscious reactions. Giving nothing away. "Know that well."

Lang Tu choked on his pit. Sputtering and hacking, beating at his chest. It took a while for him to finally catch his breath. He cleared his throat one more time just to make sure he kept pretenses. Not that it helped the ugly welp.

"How about the very abrupt vanishing of Qi from the air? Know anything about that? A lack of Qi in a Qi storm. Strange, isn't it?"

Dong ZhenKang did not respond. How the hell was he supposed to know why or how Qi acted in detail? His Dao wouldn't be stuck in his current realm otherwise. A true Sage he would be. Not stuck in some backwater with a sleazy bastard interrogating him.

"You's got to give me something," Lang Tu continued. Dong ZhenKang could hear the smile in his voice. "The Spider Cult Valley wants information. Losing five Black Widows is enough cause to bring down hell. Not listening to me and giving me information is even worse, you know. My great uncle is related to the Patriarch. If you—"

Dong ZhenKang turned to look at him. Pulling at the scant Qi in his core, nearly empty from the vanished Qi in the air. His wind screamed louder than ever before. Using the storm to boost its strength and power beyond anything he would have been capable of with such little Qi.

Lang Tu stepped back. Laughing.

"I-I'll give you time to think about it. A week—"

The storm surged into the room, sending Dong ZhenKang's gathering hall into disarray. Seats began flying, the table with bandages and wraps began slamming into the walls. A vase or two smashing and shattering. Sharp pieces flying at terrifying speeds.

"—a month! I'll be back in a month!"

Lang Tu rushed out of the room. The wind slammed the door behind him closed and locking it with air pressure.

Dong ZhenKang turned away and let the Qi die. Trying his best to look through the heavy rain and storm and into the Hu girls home. Lightning flashed in the sky. Dong ZhenKang narrowed his eyes, doing his best to use his Qi and sight to see anything. A hint. Something or another.

All he could make out was a figure. Meditating a few feet above a stable unmoving chair. Even with the wind and storm, it did not budge. The figure's robes snapped back and forth. His hair rising above him. The silhouette of a mighty spear in his hands.

I can't figure out who or what this Hu ancestor is!

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