Chapter 4 Getting Beaten in Public (1)

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"Whimper, brother, help me." Zhiyan hopped down from the stool and, before Ouyang Jin could react, threw herself into his arms, leaving two greasy paw prints on his pristine white garment. Ouyang Jin shot up from his seat, a fury igniting in his chest, his face turning frighteningly dark as he glowered at the grease stains, feeling a murderous impulse.

"Um, brother, hug." Ouyang Zhiyan seemed oblivious to her wrongdoing, still brazenly extending her arms.

Ouyang Jin struggled to contain the anger and disgust in his heart. Were it not for father watching, he would certainly have given this naive brat a good lesson.

"Is brother sick? Your face looks so scary!" Ouyang Zhiyan, biting her finger, said fearfully with a symbolic shiver. Upon hearing this, Ouyang Jin felt his blood rush to his head, nearly bursting on the spot.

"Hehe, brother is just too happy. Come on, Yanyan, let's go for a walk outside with daddy after you've had your fill." Ouyang Peng, who had been enjoying the spectacle, timely scooped up the child from the ground. He had always known his son's capabilities but had not expected him to be bested by Yanyan today. This secretly delighted him. How long had it been since he had seen his son like this? He preferred this lively expression on his son to his usual cold demeanor.

"Good, Yanyan wants pretty flowers." Zhiyan beamed with a smile. Although her plan to ingratiate herself had fallen through, the sight of the icy man's discomfiture was sweeter than honey in her heart. Let it be, take it one step at a time; besides, she still had Ouyang Peng, the backup father.

Three days had passed since Ouyang Zhiyan emerged from the ancestral hall. In the early morning, sunlight poured over the entire courtyard, and Ouyang Zhiyan sat among a cluster of flowers that towered over her head, completely concealing her diminutive figure.

She had been sitting there since before dawn, four hours now, her eyes closed as she quietly sensed the breath of her surroundings. The chill of the night and the warmth of the day brought drastically different sensations, making her nerves extraordinarily sensitive. She thought she had grasped a thread of a clue, but when she tried to analyze it further, it disappeared without a trace.

"This is a crucial moment; hold on." Just as Zhiyan was about to give up, the voice of Elder Yao suddenly echoed in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she refocused her spirit...

"How is it, have you found her?" Ouyang Peng asked with a furrowed brow, speaking to the servants with a grave tone.

"We have searched all the rooms and courtyards and still have not seen Miss Zhiyan," the man clad in green leading the group replied from his prostrate position on the ground, telling the truth.

"Continue the search. Don't overlook any corner. If she's not found by evening, none of you need to show up for work again." Ouyang Peng snorted coldly, his usually gentle face darkening like iron, his entire being radiated an aura that struck fear into the heart.

"Father, she owns her own legs, and where she wishes to go is unknown to anyone; it's unfair to blame others for this." Ouyang Jin stepped forward, his sharply handsome face showing a trace of dissatisfaction. These guards were the elite of the Ouyang Family, and Ouyang Zhiyan was but an insignificant person.

"I haven't yet blamed you for how poorly you're performing as her brother. Let me tell you, if Yanyan is not found today, everyone will be punished." Ouyang Peng swept a cold glance at his son, a trace of disappointment crossing his face. He had raised Zhiyan as his own daughter and hoped Ouyang Jin would truly accept this sister. It seemed the situation was far less optimistic than he had imagined, as if Zhiyan had never really been integrated into the family.

Ouyang Peng felt a pang in his heart, his handsome face growing even more unpleasant to look at, his clenched fists conveying his inner turmoil.

Noon, the sun high overhead, Ouyang Zhiyan's lips were chapped, her petite body quivering slightly among the flowers. An intense energy coursed through the air towards her, constantly penetrating her body, the Yang Energy.

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Her tightly closed eyes suddenly snapped open, and a trace of ecstasy lit up her delicate and tender cheeks—she had finally done it. After twelve hours, she had finally grasped the sensation of Qi...

"Silly girl, now isn't the time to be happy. Hurry up and absorb it." Master Fei's voice contained a tremble, having comprehended the sensation of Qi in just three days, this girl was intent on giving people a hard blow.

Ouyang Zhiyan focused her mind. Under the control of her will, strands of Yang Energy seeped through her skin, eventually converging in her abdomen. A warm feeling filled her body, making the previous fatigue vanish instantly, as if she had taken an exhilarating drug. Her pores opened up, feeling refreshed from head to toe.

Her garments fluttered, and the branches swayed. Around Ouyang Zhiyan, a hazy white aura enveloped her, making her seem like a glowing entity, dazzling everything around her. In just an instant, the light was gone without a trace, and Zhiyan stood up from the ground. Upon internal view, a white thread appeared in her abdomen, which was precisely the Yang Energy she had just absorbed.

Several hours had passed, and the Ouyang Residence had turned into a complete mess. Ouyang Peng mobilized all the guards in the residence, searching high and low, inside and out, in a carpet-style search, not even sparing the latrines, which consequently disturbed Ouyang Feng, an authoritative figure of the Ouyang Family.

From stewards to servants, everyone's face was adorned with a smile that revelled in another's misfortune. They were all eager to see how this despised bastard would face the wrath of the Family Head.

Zhiyan rubbed her eyes while slowly walking toward the neatly lined-up crowd. If looks could kill, she would have died a thousand times over.

Zhiyan inwardly rolled her eyes in contempt. Was it necessary? It's not like she hadn't been seen for half a day. In the past, even if she went missing for several days, no one showed such anxiety.

"Miss Zhiyan, I am here by the Family Head's order to take you to the Spiritual Technique Hall." The man was tall and burly with sharp lines. His eyes, like those of a tiger, shone brightly. A longsword hung at his waist. He gestured with a wave of his hand, and two men stepped forward, lifting her up like a sack, not allowing her to resist at all.

"Put me down, I can walk myself," Ouyang Zhiyan said, her face abruptly turning cold, irritation rising on her delicate, pink cheeks as she stared fearlessly at the man across from her.

The leader of the group was dubious but nodded his head, signaling the men to set Zhiyan down.

Once again marvelling at the vastness of the Ouyang Residence, half an hour later, Zhiyan, under the lead of the men, finally arrived outside a towering building.

The building was tower-shaped, resembling Gothic architecture, broad at the base and pointy at the top, all in a unified brown color. The brown brick walls and brown doors imparted a sense of heaviness. At the entrance, a brown stone plaque stood out, with "Spiritual Technique Hall" engraved in gilded, dancing script. The solemn stone doors were tightly shut. The leading man concentrated his mind, and a clear, translucent bead appeared in his hand. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, he placed the bead into a round hole on the wall.

With a rumble, the doors opened, and rich Spiritual Energy assailed their faces. In the vast Hall of Martial Techniques, everyone's gaze was drawn to her. As Zhiyan crossed the threshold, a dazzling orange light surged from the man beside her. Right at that moment, he looked at himself with a complex expression.

Out of curiosity, surprise, mockery, and eagerness to watch a good show, the originally quiet hall, stirred by the entrance of Ouyang Zhiyan, resembled a peaceful lake surface disturbed by a stone, creating ripples and whispers among the crowd. As they took delight in her disaster, the looks they gave Zhiyan were uniformly scornful and pitying.