Chapter Fifty-Three: Schemes of Their Own

These days, there were only two topics ablaze in Flame City. One was the madness of the beasts in the Divine Fire Arena; the other, even more sensational, was the sudden and miraculous recovery of Huang Sheng from his foul illness. Compared to the first, the latter caused greater astonishment. An ailment that had left countless physicians at their wits' end had somehow healed on its own—a veritable marvel.

Yet, as for Hu Mo, the most unexpected figure in this tale, his presence had been intentionally erased by the storytellers. They preferred to believe that Huang Sheng’s illness had simply resolved itself, unwilling to accept that Hu Mo might have played a role. The only thing people relished was recounting Hu Mo’s brazen arrogance—how he had dared to bring the Fire God Army directly to the residence of a high court minister, and even threatened him. Such boldness was the talk of the city.

The Huang household was now divided between joy and unease. No one was happier than Huang Zong. His own brother’s intractable malady was finally cured; he was even more delighted than if he had been healed himself. Yet he was left unsettled by something Hu Mo had said to him before leaving—a conversation that cast him into a sea of confusion.

Inside Huang Sheng’s room, Huang Zong sat by the bedside. After a few polite exchanges, a long silence settled between them.

Having just rid himself of that dreadful poison, Huang Sheng was in high spirits. Noticing his brother’s gloom, he could not help but ask, “Brother, what troubles you? Has something happened?”

“Ah? No, nothing…” Huang Zong was startled by the question and hastily denied it.

Huang Sheng was no fool. One glance at his brother’s face told him all. For all his talent in cultivation, Huang Zong was not as adept as Huang Sheng at reading people or concealing his emotions.

Casting a glance at the maids lined up in two rows, Huang Sheng said softly, “You may all leave. Do not come in unless I call for you.”

Obediently, the maids withdrew, leaving the two brothers alone.

“Brother, did Young Master Hu say something to you?” Huang Sheng asked with a knowing smile, as if he could see through everything.

Huang Zong paused, then smiled ruefully. “Third Brother, you’re as perceptive as ever. I can’t compare to you in that regard. Yes, Young Master Hu spoke to me, and I confess I am rather puzzled.”

“Brother, I was not sick—I was poisoned. It was Young Master Hu who cured me,” Huang Sheng said, his voice dropping low, his expression turning grave.

A thunderous shock went through Huang Zong; his face turned icy in an instant.

“Who did it? Huang Kun?” he asked without the slightest doubt.

“I don’t know, but he’s the most likely suspect. It makes sense, especially considering your own injury. Brother, did Young Master Hu offer to heal you as well?” Huang Sheng’s tone softened, as if conversing casually.

But Huang Zong could not so easily recover his composure. After what Huang Sheng had just revealed, his expression remained dark.

“He did. He asked me to consider it. At the time, I didn’t understand, but now I see what he meant,” Huang Zong replied coldly, his breath coming heavier.

“Brother, it’s been more than ten years. Can you really bear it any longer?” Huang Sheng slowly sat up, his gaze burning into Huang Zong. Seeing Huang Zong there in his rattan chair, Huang Sheng’s heart twisted in pain.

Huang Zong’s expression faltered, and he slowly lowered his head, gazing at his lifeless legs. With a bitter smile, he shook his head. “Third Brother, need you even ask? Who would choose to be a cripple, to endure such suffering? But…”

“But what? Brother, are you still hesitating? Or… are you afraid?” Huang Sheng leaned in, his eyes nearly touching Huang Zong’s.

Huang Zong’s eyes widened with a tiger’s ferocity; he slapped the chair and shouted, “Afraid? When villains refuse to spare us, why should we show mercy?”

“Excellent! Well said, Brother! Leave Young Master Hu to me; you just wait to stand again.” Huang Sheng beamed, his confidence brimming.

Huang Zong frowned slightly, his demeanor calming as he asked softly, “Third Brother, can he truly heal me?”

“Still don’t trust your brother? Some things aren’t as they seem. Just as you see me one way, while others see me another. Young Master Hu is no ordinary man—he’s even more deeply hidden than I am,” Huang Sheng said, a hint of slyness curling his lips.

Crash!

A porcelain teacup shattered, its shards slicing several guards’ faces, but none dared utter a sound.

“How can it be? How can it be! That filthy worm—how could he possibly recover? I don’t believe it, I don’t!” A handsome young man roared in fury, wild-eyed with rage.

On the bed, a beautiful woman wrapped in a sheet stared at him in terror, trembling uncontrollably.

“Guo Ming, this matter cannot be left as it is. You were the one who administered the poison all those years ago—you know its potency. Now it’s suddenly broken. I demand an explanation!” the man barked, still half-mad.

Guo Ming’s expression shifted slightly as he stepped forward from among the guards, his tone calm. “Second Young Master, please restrain yourself. I will investigate thoroughly and not disappoint you. You must also remain calm—anger clouds judgment. Madam always taught us so.”

There was a strange note in Guo Ming’s voice, almost like a reprimand. The furious man was none other than Huang Kun, Huang Sheng’s half-brother.

“Again you use my mother to suppress me? Why should I listen to a servant like you?” Huang Kun shouted, on the verge of violence.

Guo Ming smiled coolly. “You overthink, Second Young Master. I meant only to remind you: calm is essential for great deeds, and it’s my duty to keep you so. Otherwise, I’d be remiss.”

His voice was light as ever, unfazed by Huang Kun’s murderous glare.

Huang Kun glared for a few seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Guo Ming, you are always so infuriating! Tell me, what should we do this time?”

“There’s nothing to be done. Investigate quietly; show nothing on the surface. If you act rashly now, problems will arise. This is the best strategy: respond to all change with no change. Also, you should be more discreet in your private affairs,” Guo Ming finished in a whisper, transmitting his words directly. Huang Kun’s expression shifted, but quickly returned to normal; he understood perfectly.

“Heh, I’ll handle my affairs. You just do your job. Since my mother trusts you, I have no reason to doubt you.” Huang Kun smiled, waving his hand. The guards, Guo Ming included, filed out, leaving only Huang Kun and the woman on the bed.

The woman was stunning, her skin pale and flawless—a temptation few men could resist. As soon as the guards left, she threw aside the sheet, revealing her perfect body. Her ample breasts quivered enticingly, their rosy tips seeming to emit a subtle fragrance, inviting a plucker of forbidden fruit.

Desire surged in Huang Kun; he strode to the bed and seized her proud curves. The woman shuddered, clinging to him like an octopus, tearing desperately at his clothes.

“What a little minx,” Huang Kun muttered, allowing her to strip him, his hand kneading her breasts as if molding dough.

The woman was consumed by lust, covering him with frenzied kisses and licks, as if intoxicated by a potent aphrodisiac.

“Take me, please, I beg you!” she cried, her longing near madness.

Huang Kun only smiled, ignoring her pleas. With a shove, he pushed her aside and said coolly, “Zhuorong, unless I summon you, don’t come here again. You’d best hurry home and look after your husband, who’s only just recovered.”

The woman stared at him, stunned by both his actions and his words. Her face darkened with despair.

“Kun, do you no longer want me?” she whispered tearfully, her look devastating to any man.

He laughed. “It’s not that I don’t want you, just that I can’t for now. Without you, what joy would I have? But with things so precarious, your frequent visits could be dangerous. Your value is not here—do you understand?”

He continued to caress her, making her dizzy with desire once again.

“Kun… Kun, I’ll do whatever you ask…” she moaned, her words broken by longing.

Huang Kun smiled, his hand moving to her neck, gently massaging. Suddenly, with a brutal twist, there was a sickening snap, and her eyes flew wide. She turned, pointing a trembling finger at him, wanting to speak, but no words came.

“Don’t blame me—you simply knew too much. I couldn’t risk it,” Huang Kun said, his face as harmless as ever, watching her collapse lifeless onto the bed, her eyes open in death.

Calmly, he sat up, took her clothes, and tenderly dressed her corpse, murmuring, “I always used to undress you. Now, for the last time, I dress you. Rest well, dear sister-in-law.”

He clapped his hands. Two guards entered, standing woodenly before him.

“Toss her in the well, then fish her out. As for the story, you know what to say,” Huang Kun instructed with a smile, his hand still wandering over her chest. Outside, crows cawed, ushering in the first notes of this nocturne of death.

Monday had arrived—the day when the Tiger’s struggle to claim the New Book Rankings drew nearer.

The Tiger was unwilling, truly unwilling.

Huang Sheng could endure, Hu Mo could endure, but what about the Tiger? Whether the Tiger would continue to endure depended entirely on the steadfast support of his brothers.

Please, I beg of you: collect, vote, click. Only with your tireless support can the Tiger go further.