Chapter 23 The Scholar Louis Evans

Many people enjoy the night.

Zeke, Brogan, and Gordon walked along the streets at night, feeling as if they were traversing a different world. Nance Street appeared even quieter tonight, almost as if the air itself had died. They passed by the School on Nance Street and glanced inside. The bodies were still hanging from the beams, swaying continuously. Looking through the doorway, all that could be seen were legs and feet.

A few children squatted at the entrance, crying. Then, a child of six or seven years old stood up and struggled to climb onto a table, attempting to remove one of the bodies from the beam. But he clearly couldn't manage it. Zeke's footsteps halted outside the school, hesitating for a moment before ultimately deciding not to intervene.

"Evil always emerges at night, and also ends in the darkness," Gordon sighed. "Only to be replaced by another form of evil."

"You should all go back now. Someone will come to handle the bodies. If anyone sees you here, you'll be harmed," Zeke said to the children.

The children looked back at Zeke, confused. Someone shouted from behind, "Zeke, this is still our school, our teacher!"

Zeke shook his head. "It never was our school, nor our teacher."

The children couldn't understand the meaning behind Zeke's words and felt that he was cold and heartless. But in the end, they had no choice but to give up and leave the school. What they didn't know was that Zeke stopped them from touching the bodies for their own protection. Although Alex was already dead, a new force would soon rise on Nance Street, making their nostalgia a potential source of trouble.

"Now where do we go?" Brogan asked.

"Find a place to sleep," Zeke replied in a soft voice, quickening his pace.

The night grew deeper.

Zeke and the others didn't return home because the courtyard was no longer safe. They left Nance Street and found themselves in a stretch of woodland. Eventually, they stopped beneath a large tree that provided shelter. They climbed onto its thick branches to rest, but none of them felt sleepy.

"Zeke, can we change our destiny?" Brogan asked.

Zeke's gaze pierced through the leaves, lingering on the stars in the sky. He nodded slowly. "No one is incapable of changing their own destiny; it depends on the direction of change. In reality, every person changes their destiny every day, even if they're not aware of it. Destiny isn't predetermined by God, but rather forged by our own path. Every step taken determines the course of fate, and ultimately, where one arrives is entirely up to their own feet."

Gordon felt that Zeke must have had a story to tell, but he didn't dare to ask.

Zeke instructed Brogan and Gordon to sleep while he kept watch through the night. Brogan and Gordon were both careless individuals, and coupled with exhaustion, they quickly fell into a deep slumber. Once Zeke saw that they were fast asleep, he silently climbed down from the tree and made his way back towards Nance Street.

The tavern's sign was still swaying, but its doors remained tightly shut.

In the darkness of the night, Zeke stood outside the tavern with his slender and small figure, appearing lonely. He raised his hand, as if about to knock on the door, but hesitated several times before refraining from doing so. He used the tavern's sign to kill Evan, and Mrs. Yates had told him not to return. Yet here Zeke was, standing outside the tavern again before the day ended. He thought of Clay's innocent face and suddenly felt selfish.

Mrs. Yates, a cultivator concealing her own cultivation level, opened a tavern on Nance Street, and it was certainly not for her own sake. Clay possessed extraordinary aptitude, yet Mrs. Yates forbade him from cultivating; again, it was definitely not for her own sake. Zeke suddenly realized that Mrs. Yates was protecting Clay. So Zeke felt selfish because if Mrs. Yates's status as a cultivator were exposed, the consequences might be beyond his imagination.

Thus, he turned away and left.

He didn't see, nor could he sense, that Mrs. Yates was actually standing behind the door. Mrs. Yates held a sword in her hand. Her eyes reflected both killing intent and hesitation. She lifted the sword twice but put it down each time. When Zeke turned to leave, she suddenly felt a sense of weariness. Then she began to think that things might not be as she had imagined, so she opened the door.

At the doorstep, there was a small cloth pouch.

Mrs. Yates picked up the pouch and walked back into the room, closing the door behind her. She sat down and opened the pouch, discovering a piece of intermediate-grade spiritual stone inside, along with a recently written booklet still carrying the scent of ink.

"Clay has excellent physique, and although I don't know why you prevent him from cultivating, it's probably out of a sense of protection. But how long can you protect him? A lifetime? I can't say if this book is suitable for Clay, but at the very least, it can grant him the power to protect himself. Sometimes, keeping children ordinary won't shield them from calamities. If the contents of this booklet are applicable to Clay, I hope it can help you. Consider it repaying the favor for lending me that sign."

Mrs. Yates flipped to the second page of the booklet but immediately saw her expression change. In her eyes flickered an indescribable fear, as if her mortal enemy resided within those pages.

"Why do you possess the cultivation techniques of the Shaoke Dynasty?" Mrs. Yates's voice trembled as she muttered to herself, as if someone had suddenly lifted the veil covering her heart, exposing what lay deep within.

"Why do you, just a lonely orphan on Nance Street, know about Clay's physique?"

Her hand once again gripped the hilt of the sword, and the killing intent in her eyes resurfaced.

"Perhaps he didn't have any ill intentions."

A man's voice sounded from outside, low and gentle.

With a creak, the door was pushed open, and Mrs. Yates realized that she had forgotten to lock it. A scholar entered, appearing to be around thirty years old. There was a hint of weariness on his face, but he was handsome. The stubble on his jaw didn't affect his demeanor at all. He looked young, yet he seemed to have experienced the vicissitudes of life. When he looked at Mrs. Yates, there was a sense of remorse in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you late at night," he said, standing at the door. He reached back and closed it without entering further.

"I've told you before, you're not welcome here," Mrs. Yates said in a cold tone. "We came to Fantasy City seeking refuge, but you followed us like a ghost."

The scholar replied, "I was entrusted by an old friend to protect you. I know you have some misunderstandings about me, but I cannot ignore his request."

"Misunderstandings?" Mrs. Yates swiftly lifted her sword, "I saw you stab him in the chest with my own eyes. What kind of misunderstanding is that?"

A melancholic expression clouded the scholar's face. "He was suffering from an inner poison, and you are well aware of the pain he endured. I killed him because I didn't want him to continue suffering. You know all of this, yet you resent me simply because I ended his life. You were not an unreasonable woman, but after his death, you became paranoid. You always believe that both he and I loved you, and that I intentionally killed him."

"Leave!" Mrs. Yates's voice trembled as she clutched her trembling sword.

"I won't leave," the scholar said. Beckoning with a wave of his hand, the booklet on the table flew into his grasp. He glanced down at it. "That boy should have experienced some changes. He is no longer the same as before. But regardless, he harbors no ill intentions towards you. The cultivation techniques in this booklet are indeed suitable for Clay. I know your primary concern is Clay's safety, which is why you forbid him from cultivating."

"But that way of thinking is wrong. What if something unexpected happens to you? If Clay doesn't cultivate, what will he do?"

Mrs. Yates sneered, "Didn't you solemnly promise to protect us?"

The scholar nodded. "I will die before you, so if you were to die, Clay would truly have no one left."

Mrs. Yates's expression changed, and her grip on the sword loosened until it fell to the ground.

The scholar continued, "That young boy named Zeke may have been reborn. This person who was reborn was once powerful. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to write such high-level cultivation techniques. You should help Zeke because his future is boundless. Find a friend for Clay, someone he can trust and rely on outside of you and me."

"Why don't you help him personally?" Mrs. Yates asked.

The scholar sighed bitterly. "My name is Louis Evans, the Lord of Fantasy City. Sooner or later, he will know. If I were to help him, he would grow suspicious. But you're different; you are Clay's mother. If you personally assist Zeke, he will wholeheartedly protect Clay. We both know how formidable our enemies are, and perhaps one day we will both die, but no one knows when that day will come."

"You came to seek refuge in Fantasy City, so I came too. I don't trust the people here, which is why I killed anyone who posed a threat to you and became the Lord of Fantasy City. I've established new rules to make everyone fear me. I did all this just to ensure your safety."

Mrs. Yates's hand trembled more and more, rendering her speechless.

Louis said, "He and I are friends, and we both love you. But you chose him, and I feel jealous and angry. But he is still my friend, and you are still the woman I love. No matter how you see me, I am willing to do anything for you and your son."

After a moment of silence, he continued, "If you think there is some truth in what I'm saying, then go find Zeke, help him rebuild his body, and let him and Clay go to the Fantasy Academic. The academy was created by me for Clay. It will always be a safe haven for him, a school for his growth. With Zeke protecting him at all times, along with my presence, Clay can grow up safely within the academy."

As Louis turned around, about to leave, he added, "You and I have no future, but Clay does. Your current obsession with protecting him is actually just your own selfishness, not for his sake but for your own."

Mrs. Yates's body shook for a few moments before she slumped weakly into the chair.

"I can endure the poison within me for a few more years," he said.

Louis softened his tone. "These few years, I will do my utmost to teach him and pass on the abilities of his father to him."

After uttering these words, he opened the door and left, his figure appearing so lonely. Tears streamed down Mrs. Yates's face as she stood up, wanting to grasp something, but her hand ultimately grasped only empty air.

On that day, he was deeply poisoned. He wanted to remove the poison from his body, but Louis forbade it because the poison was incurable. In the end, Louis removed the poison, but he couldn't save him. But Louis was also poisoned... No one knew when the poison would strike. Mrs. Yates wept, feeling that life had been incredibly unfair to her... Two important men in her life, one dead and one dying.

She turned around and glanced at Clay, peacefully asleep on the bed.