Bitter Realm: A Happy Person Traveling Across China

On the other side, in the secluded nest, deep within the darkness.

The flickering firelight in the passageway cast long and short shadows on the staggering figure of the man carrying the knife.

He held the hastily sewn and wrapped body of Henbufeng in his arms, his face a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and deep sorrow.

In the heart of the lair, in a spacious hall built of somber black stone, Jia Minggong stood with his back to the entrance, hands clasped behind his back, seemingly deep in thought.

The flickering firelight illuminated his thin, upright back, casting a huge, slightly swaying shadow that enveloped half of the stone chamber, adding to the eeriness and oppression.

He stepped into the hall with the knife in his hand, stopped a few steps away from Jia Minggong, his knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on the ground.

Hen Bufeng's body fell to the ground with a dull thud. A corner of the white cloth was pulled aside, revealing Hen Bufeng's pale, stiff face, his eyes wide open, frozen with the extreme terror before his death, and the smooth, fatal cut on his neck.

"Master...Master..." Feng Dao's voice was dry and hoarse, with a sob in it.

Upon hearing the sound, Jia Minggong slowly turned around.

When his gaze fell upon the familiar yet lifeless corpse on the ground, his pupils suddenly contracted, and the usual gloom and calculation on his face were instantly replaced by extreme astonishment and disbelief.

He staggered forward, his outstretched fingers trembling slightly.

"Ah...this, this is..." Jia Minggong's voice lost its usual calmness, revealing a rare hint of panic. "What happened?"

Feng Dao struck his head against the ground, his voice choked with sobs: "Master...this subordinate is incompetent! Young Master...he...was murdered in Beixingxiu!"

He suppressed his grief and recounted as clearly as possible the process of discovering the body of Nianbufeng, the fact that there were almost no clues at the scene except for the marks of a fatal blow, and how he hurriedly sewed up the body and brought it back.

Despite her efforts to organize her thoughts, the panic and helplessness she felt were still hard to conceal.

"...The murderer acted extremely cleanly and efficiently, leaving almost no trace of a struggle at the scene, nor any obvious identification or residual internal energy... Your subordinate... Your subordinate has searched along possible clues for dozens of miles around, but to no avail. The murderer... is extremely secretive, and so far we have not found any valuable clues."

After Feng Dao finished speaking, he prostrated himself deeply on the ground, not daring to raise his head, awaiting the expected thunderous wrath.

Jia Minggong stood motionless, as if turned to stone. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest and the rapidly shifting light in his eyes revealed the intense turmoil within him.

After the initial shock, a cold, almost tangible anger began to emanate from him, and the temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees.

"Damn it..." Jia Minggong squeezed out the two words through gritted teeth, his voice terrifyingly low, as if suppressing a volcano about to erupt. "Who is it?"

He abruptly closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, as if forcibly trying to calm his turbulent emotions.

Although Jia Minggong may have initially used Hen Bufeng more to his advantage, hoping to use Hen Bufeng's identity to obtain the sword skills of the Daowenhuan Sword that he had been longing for.

But over such a long period of time, Jia Minggong truly treated him like his own son, and they had a deep affection for each other. Otherwise, he wouldn't have let Hen Bufeng play around with women and even thoughtfully cleaned up his messes...

Now that his child has died under mysterious circumstances, he obviously won't let it go easily.

When he opened his eyes again, the grief in Jia Minggong's eyes had been replaced by a deeper and more terrifying gloom.

He walked to Hen Bufeng's body, squatted down, and carefully examined the fatal wound. His fingers hovered above the wound, but he did not touch it.

"Recently..." Jia Minggong's voice returned to its usual gloomy tone, but with an added chilling edge. "Has he had any grudges against anyone? Or has he offended someone he shouldn't have? Think carefully, don't miss any clues."

Feng Dao trembled and hurriedly recalled, "Reporting to Master, although Young Master... Young Master's recent actions have been somewhat... flamboyant, as far as I know, he hasn't made any deep-seated grudges against anyone. He frequents brothels..."

Jia Minggong frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

He stood up, paced a few steps, and the shadows distorted with his movement.

"Tell me everything that has happened to him recently, down to the smallest detail." Jia Minggong stopped, his gaze fixed on Feng Dao like a hawk's. "Who he's met, what happened, what unusual things he's said—I need to know all of that!"

Feng Dao dared not delay and hurriedly began to try his best to recall and recount: "It's...it's...I heard the details..."

Feng Dao spoke until his throat was dry, recounting as many details as he could remember, including regret for not being entrusted by Qin Jiaxian and the quarrel with Butterfly Lord.

Jia Minggong listened quietly, his face expressionless, only the occasional glint of light in his eyes indicating that he was rapidly analyzing each piece of information.

After a long silence, Feng Dao finally finished speaking, then lay prostrate on the ground, not daring to breathe.

The Demon Realm, Qin Jiaxian, Lao Wuyan, Butterfly Lord, Gongsun Yue...

Who among these people is the murderer?

Jia Minggong remained silent for a moment, then waved his hand, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger: "Enough. First, tidy up his body..."

His gaze fell on the face of someone who died with unresolved grievances, and he paused for a moment. "Use the Xuanbing ice coffin from the back mountain to preserve it well, and make sure the body does not decay."

"Yes...yes! Your subordinate obeys!" Feng Dao felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He quickly got up and carefully wrapped Hen Bufeng's body again, his movements so gentle as if he was afraid of disturbing the deceased.

He picked up the cold corpse, turned and walked out of the hall, his shoulders trembling slightly, and a suppressed sob finally escaped his lips: "Ugh... Ugh... Young Master..."

The heavy footsteps gradually faded into the deep passageway.

The hall doors slowly closed, shutting out the last ray of light.

Inside the stone chamber, only Jia Minggong remained, along with the flickering firelight on the wall.

The deathly silence lasted for several breaths.

Sudden--

"snort!"

A cold snort, filled with boundless rage and murderous intent, broke the silence.

All the gloom and restraint on Jia Minggong's face vanished instantly, replaced by an almost twisted ferocity. He slammed his fist on the stone table beside him!

"Bang!"

The sturdy stone table shattered at one corner, sending stone chips flying everywhere.

"The person I painstakingly nurtured..." Jia Minggong's voice was extremely low, yet every word was like a knife, echoing in the empty stone chamber, filled with resentment and rage, "...and he was killed just like that?"

He slowly walked to the broken stone table, his fingers tracing the jagged edges, his eyes filled with a terrifyingly sinister glint.

"No matter who you are...no matter what your purpose is, if you dare to touch my people and ruin my plans...I will make you pay a hundredfold, a thousandfold price!"

"We'll settle this score slowly."

The last few words, spoken as softly as a whisper, carried a chilling resolve.

Bi Huo leaped suddenly, casting his shadow on the wall, distorting and magnifying it, making it resemble a ferocious beast ready to devour its prey...