One person: Go talk to my Rumble-Rumble Fruit!

Those once clear and bright eyes, always carrying a gentle smile, now appeared somewhat dim, shrouded in the shadow of illness. But deep within those eyes, there was no anger, resentment, or cold bitterness from being betrayed by a loved one, as Feng Zhenghao had anticipated.

He looked at his father, at the unfathomable weariness in his father's eyes and the almost imperceptible, tense searching.

Feng Xingtong's lips were dry and pale. He moved slightly, as if he wanted to speak, but it triggered a suppressed cough. Feng Zhenghao immediately leaned over, his movements so fast they were almost blurry, and gently but skillfully supported his back, using just the right amount of force to help him catch his breath. With his other hand, he quickly picked up a warm cotton swab and carefully moistened his chapped lips.

His meticulous care was a stark contrast to the coldness he displayed on the training ground.

The cough subsided, but Feng Xingtong's breathing became even weaker. He leaned back against the pillow, closed his eyes, and seemed to be gathering the strength to speak. Feng Zhenghao did not urge him, but simply watched him quietly, awaiting his judgment.

A few seconds later, Feng Xingtong opened her eyes again.

This time, his gaze was unusually calm, as calm as the deepest lake after a storm, without a ripple. He looked directly into his father's unfathomable eyes, his voice hoarse and weak, barely a whisper, as if it might break at any moment, but every word was exceptionally clear, carrying a wisdom beyond his years:

He paused, as if using all his strength to organize his thoughts and convey that profound understanding.

"You did that..."

"...there is a reason for doing so."

There were no questions, no grievances, no accusations of the father being "cowardly" or "despicable." There was only the simplest, most unassuming, yet most profound trust.

Upon hearing these words, Feng Zhenghao's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. A tiny pebble seemed to have been thrown into the depths of his eyes, which were as unfathomable as a thousand-year-old icy pool, forever scheming with countless thoughts. Beneath the icy surface of the lake, something surged violently, only to be forcibly suppressed.

It was an extremely complex torrent of emotions—deep pain for the undeserved calamity suffered for his son; a chilling murderous intent for the deep-seated hatred for the Wang family; and a heavy sense of guilt for the sensible child before him. But in the end, all the surging emotions were covered and soothed by a more powerful warm current from the depths of his blood.

That warm current is called "gratification".

He said no more.

He simply reached out, his broad, powerful hand, marked by strength and cunning, gently and carefully covering Feng Xingtong's bandaged, cold hand with an unprecedented, almost reverent tenderness. He felt his son's faint pulse throbbing at his fingertips, one beat after another, weak yet tenacious.

What I felt in my palm was the warmth of my son's life, and also that heavy, silent trust.

In the ward, the smell of disinfectant was still pungent, and the ticking of the instruments was still monotonous.

But between this father and son, in that silent touch and the exchange of glances, a silent vow had already been made.

The humiliating past has not yet been washed away, and the bloody hatred is buried deep in their hearts, but at this moment, the trust and understanding that are connected by blood has become the most solid foundation that supports them to continue.

The relief in Feng Zhenghao's eyes sank into his heart, turning into a deeper determination—for this trust, for this sensible son, the blood debt owed by the Wang family must be repaid a hundredfold.

The moment Feng Xingtong understood the light in his father's eyes, he swallowed all his grievances. He knew that his father's spine had never truly bent; his humility was nothing more than a lurking thunder.

.........

Chapter 81 Brother Lin Shen, help me get revenge

After Feng Zhenghao left, Feng Xingtong lay there alone, like a forgotten, broken doll.

The tension in his heart finally snapped.

The calm she had forced herself to maintain in front of her father, that understanding and tolerance beyond her years, was like a fragile glass shell, cracking and peeling away inch by inch in absolute silence and solitude.

The excruciating pain from Wang Bing's heavy punch to the chest, the emptiness left deep in his soul when his grandfather Prince Zhong's spirit was forcibly torn apart, and the suffocating humiliation brought about by his father's earth-shattering kneeling... all the pain and grievances that had been forcibly suppressed by reason erupted.

A drop of scalding liquid spilled out of the corner of her tightly closed eye without warning.

It slid across the pale, cold skin, along the curve of the temple, and suddenly fell, soaking into the soft pillow, leaving a small, dark, silent mark.

Then came the second drop, the third drop… Tears flowed like beads from a broken string, gushing out uncontrollably.

He made no sound, but his body trembled uncontrollably, each weak sob aggravating the gruesome wound in his chest and abdomen, bringing a sharp, piercing pain.

The body was tightly bound by bandages, the knuckles were deeply embedded in the snow-white sheets, and the veins on the back of the hand were bulging.

He bit his lower lip hard, tasting the salty, metallic flavor of blood, trying to suppress the sob that was about to burst from his throat, but it only made the tears flow even more profusely.

Those eyes, which were always clear and smiling, were now submerged in a huge mist, churning with unfathomable pain, resentment, and deep bitterness at one's own powerlessness.

Grandpa Wang Zizhong's relieved yet worried look before he disappeared, his father's humble back as he knelt on the ground, Wang Bing's twisted, grinning face... Countless images flashed and fragmented wildly in his chaotic mind, almost tearing his reason apart.

at this time--

"Dong dong dong."

Three very faint, hesitant knocks broke the suffocating silence in the ward.

Feng Xingtong's body suddenly stiffened! Like a frightened little animal, all trembling stopped instantly.

Almost instinctively, he used all the remaining strength in his body to suddenly lift up the hand that wasn't receiving the IV drip, and frantically and haphazardly wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to erase the burning marks that represented his weakness.

He hurriedly turned his face toward the wall, forcefully closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently as he suppressed his emotions and the movements aggravated the pain from his wounds, and suppressed, broken sobs escaped his throat.

The door was gently pushed open.

A tall, imposing figure stood in the doorway, blocking part of the light in the corridor.

He wore a simple dark T-shirt and trousers, his face expressionless, his eyes calm as the deep sea.

She walked in naturally, carrying a heavy-looking fruit basket and a thermos, and gently closed the door behind her.

The moment he entered the ward, his gaze landed precisely on the figure who was turned to face him, whose shoulders were still trembling slightly, and whose cheeks and pillows still bore traces of dampness. The air was thick with sorrow and despair, almost impenetrable.

Lin Shen paused for a moment, then, as if he hadn't seen or noticed anything, walked straight to the cabinet next to the hospital bed and gently placed the fruit basket and thermos down.

The thermos wafted a faint, enticing aroma of chicken soup, a stark contrast to the cold, disinfectant smell.

He didn't speak immediately, but simply sat down on the chair by the bed, neither too close nor too far.

Silence fell in the ward once more. Only the rhythmic, cold beeping of the electrocardiogram monitor could be heard.

Feng Xingtong's face remained turned to the side, her body stiff.

He could feel Lin Shen's gaze on his back. The gaze was calm, yet it possessed a strange penetrating power, as if it could see through all the vulnerability and wretchedness he tried to hide. In front of this peer, the carefully constructed dam that had never collapsed even in front of his father completely crumbled.

All his strength, all his understanding, all his maturity in thinking "father was right" seemed so pale and laughable at this moment. He was just a boy who had been beaten half to death, who couldn't even protect his precious soul, and who could only hide in the hospital room and cry like a coward.

“Lin…Lin Shen…Big Brother…” A voice, thick with nasal tone and hoarse with sobs, finally came from the direction where Feng Xingtong buried his face in the pillow, so faint that it was almost drowned out by the sound of the instruments.

Lin Shen did not respond, but simply watched his trembling shoulders quietly.

Feng Xingtong took a deep breath, the sound like a broken bellows being forcibly pulled.

He struggled, using all his strength, and turned his head little by little, extremely slowly.

That face was completely exposed to Lin Shen's view.

His eyes were red and swollen, filled with terrifying blood vessels, and tears still streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks, leaving streaks of grayish-white. His lips were bitten until they bled, the bloodstains clearly visible.

There was no longer any pretense on her face, only vulnerability and helplessness after being completely crushed by pain, and an almost humble plea.

"You...you saw it all...right?" His voice trembled uncontrollably. "I...I'm so useless...so useless..."

He gasped for breath, as if gathering his last bit of courage, each word forced out as if squeezed from a crushed throat, trembling with a heart-wrenching pain:

"Grandpa Zizhong...he...he didn't want to put me in a difficult position...he didn't want to be swallowed by that beast...he...he entered the cycle of reincarnation himself..." His voice suddenly rose, filled with heart-wrenching pain, "My dad! My dad...he knelt down before Wang Ai! In front of everyone! He said...he said Wang Bing did a good job!!" He practically roared out the last few words, aggravating his wounds. The excruciating pain made him arch his body violently, his face instantly turning ashen, cold sweat pouring down his forehead, and painful groans escaping his throat.

"Brother Lin Shen!" He raised his head, tears streaming down his face like a burst dam. His eyes were filled with the most primal, desperate madness and reckless plea. His voice was hoarse and shrill, like the mournful cry of a dying beast.

Please!

"If...if you ever...encounter that beast Wang Bing again..."

Electrocute him!

"Electrocute him for me!!"

"Shock him...shock him until he's half-dead! Shock him until he's a charred corpse! Let him...let him taste...the pain of a living hell! Let him...wet his pants whenever he hears thunder for the rest of his life!!"

He spoke incoherently, his words fragmented, but the deep-seated hatred and desire for revenge burned like a tangible flame.

The only sounds in the ward were Feng Xingtong's rapid, uncontrolled breathing and suppressed sobs.

Lin Shen looked down at the crumpled and deformed hem of his clothes, feeling the desperate trembling and icy coldness of the hand. His face remained expressionless, and his eyes remained calm. But beneath that calm, something seemed to be silently surging.

He didn't immediately pull his clothes back, nor did he say any words of comfort.

After a very long silence lasting several seconds.

He looked into Feng Xingtong's eyes, filled with tears, bloodshot veins, and insane hatred, and spoke slowly and clearly. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange, heart-stopping metallic quality, like muffled thunder rolling from deep within dark clouds:

Only one word.

But it was like the heaviest vow, crashing onto the cold ground.

The moment he finished speaking, Lin Shen's other hand, which was resting on his knee, twitched slightly at the fingertips.

A tiny, yet perfectly condensed, golden spark of electricity, like a living spirit, suddenly leaped from his fingertips!

Tiny arcs of electricity silently snaked between his fingers, emitting a barely audible yet chilling crackling sound. The blinding light illuminated half of his calm face, and also reflected in the depths of Feng Xingtong's pupils, which were blurred by tears but suddenly widened.

The leaping arc of electricity was cold, violent, and contained a pure power capable of destroying everything. It hovered steadily, like a small, deadly vortex, a silent promise.

Lin Shen raised his eyes, his gaze calmly meeting Feng Xingtong's shocked, ecstatic, and somewhat incredulous expression. He added, his tone as flat as if stating a given fact:

See you next time.

"He was electrocuted until he was barely alive."

The arc of electricity at his fingertips vanished instantly, as if it had never existed. But the lingering, violent power and the chilling aura of destruction seemed to be branded into the sorrowful, medicine-scented ward, and also into the depths of Feng Xingtong's soul.

Feng Xingtong's grip on Lin Shen's clothes loosened slowly, and she finally slid back onto the bed, powerless.

He stared blankly at Lin Shen, at his still expressionless face, where large tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but those tears no longer contained utter despair and collapse.

It is a flame called "hope" that has been cruelly ignited and carries the smell of blood.

...........

...........

Chapter 82: A Frustrating Victory

The next match is between Lin Shen and Xiao Xiao from Deyun Society.

Xiao Xiao clasped his hands in a fist salute to Lin Shen, "Xiao Xiao from Deyun Society has come specifically to request..."

Before Xiao Xiao could finish speaking, Lin Shen instantly transformed into his elemental form, appeared behind Xiao Xiao, and then knocked Xiao Xiao unconscious with a single chop to the neck.

Then, Rong Shan shouted, "Lin Shen wins!" Lin Shen's mind was now filled with nothing but beating up Wang Bing.

Lin Shen looked at Wang Bing in the audience and smiled at him.

That smile sent chills down Wang Bing's spine.