The Void King

3. Ambush at Creek Mountain

Zhou Feng had no idea that his single counterattack had already rippled through several branches of the Zhou family. Some were surprised, some were pleased — but Zhou Yong’s lineage was absolutely furious.

 

***

 

This was the eastern courtyard of the Zhou family compound. Its walls were inlaid entirely with rare Creek Mountain steel-stones, gleaming so brilliantly in the sunlight they nearly blinded passersby. This was the residence of Zhou Yong’s descendants — the Eastern Wing.

 

Inside a quiet backyard study, a young man sat holding a folding fan. He wore a white robe and a white jade crown, and was strikingly handsome, with a gentle, charming smile on his face. Strangers would think him the most pleasant and sensible person alive. If this were the modern world, he’d be adored by everyone.

 

This was Zhou Kang — Zhou Yong’s grandson and the Zhou family’s rising genius. He was only fifteen, yet he had already reached the sixth level of Body Tempering, having climbed from the fifth in barely three months. Everyone expected him to break through to the Yin-Yang Realm before turning sixteen.

 

"You say Zhou Feng is fully recovered and beat all of you easily?" Zhou Kang spoke, his voice calm but carrying a faint chill.

 

Standing nervously before him was Zhou Bing, along with the four others who’d blocked Zhou Feng’s path earlier.

 

"Young Master Kang, every word is true!" Zhou Bing said bitterly. "Ask them yourself!" The four nodded frantically in agreement.

 

Zhou Bing didn’t realise Zhou Feng had actually held back. A full two hundred jin of force to the spine would have crippled him for life — if not killed him. Even so, Zhou Bing burned with humiliation and fear, and secretly longed for Zhou Feng’s ruin.

 

"Grandfather would never be wrong… so that boy’s meridians have truly been repaired," Zhou Kang murmured. He knew better than anyone: Zhou Feng’s meridians had been completely severed — by his own grandfather, Zhou Yong.

 

"Young Master Kang," Zhou Bing spoke carefully, his eyes darting, "I also noticed… he seems weaker than before. I’m only at the first level of Body Tempering, and back then I wouldn’t have stood a chance. But now? He’s only slightly stronger than me. He’s far from his peak."

 

Zhou Kang shot him a cold, disdainful look. "Fool. He’s not weaker — he’s simply regained his foundation. He defeated you with skill and experience, not raw power. Once he rebuilds his cultivation…" Zhou Kang’s expression darkened, his smile twisting into something sharp. "Then my place as the family’s number one genius is gone."

 

"So we just… wait and watch?" Zhou Bing pressed, urgency in his voice. "If he grows strong again, he won’t let us forget how we treated him!"

 

Zhou Kang chuckled darkly. He saw right through Zhou Bing’s little game — using him to do his dirty work. But he didn’t mind. He wanted Zhou Feng gone just as badly.

 

"You said he’s heading into Creek Mountain?" Zhou Kang asked suddenly.

 

"Yes! I saw him leave in that direction!" Zhou Bing nodded eagerly.

 

Zhou Kang’s charming smile vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, ruthless glint in his eyes. "If you insist on walking to your grave, Zhou Feng… don’t blame me for pushing you in."

 

***

 

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Zhou Feng paused and looked up at the vast, mist-shrouded peaks rising before him.

 

"Creek Mountain…" He could feel a heavy, ancient aura radiating from it, and caught a faint, metallic tang of blood in the breeze. This place wasn’t as peaceful as it looked.

 

He took a deep breath and stepped forward into the trees. Once through this forest, he’d be at the mountain’s outer reaches — and the secluded valley he knew would be perfect for cultivation.

 

He hadn’t gone far when five figures dropped silently onto a boulder behind him. They were middle-aged, roughly forty years old, all wearing matching grey tunics marked with the word "BANDIT" across the chest.

 

"Brother, Young Master Kang promised — if we kill this boy, our death sentences are lifted. We’re free!" one of them whispered, voice thick with hope.

 

The leader — a scar-faced man — grunted. "This shouldn’t be hard. But don’t underestimate him. We’re the Five Ghosts of Creek Mountain. If we pull this off, we walk out of those cells forever." There was bitterness in his voice. Years ago, the Five Ghosts had been infamous — feared across the entire region. Now they were just condemned prisoners waiting to die.

 

"Young Master Feng… no hard feelings personally," the scarred man muttered, gripping a jagged blade. "But freedom is freedom."

 

"Move in! Don’t let him get too deep!"

 

The five vanished into the trees like shadows.

 

***

 

Zhou Feng moved swiftly through the woods, light as a leopard, weaving between massive trunks. Half an hour later, he emerged from the trees and stood at the foot of a rolling stretch of hills. A small smile touched his lips.

 

"Just past these hills… and I’m there."

 

He knew these lands well from his memories. They looked peaceful, but they hid beasts, hidden ravines, and shifting mists. Dangerous — but exactly what he needed: seclusion.

 

He stepped onto the path between the hills.

 

Suddenly — a harsh voice rang out from directly behind him:

 

"Zhou Feng — prepare to die!"