Obtaining Top Art on Family's Extermination Night

Ye Wucheng had already gotten to his feet, but his eyes were vacant. He had the distinct look of a man who was physically alive but spiritually dead.

In fact, if there were a subtle way to die right now, one that wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention, he would have taken it without a second thought.

He was even starting to look back on his life...

As the older brother of the Northern Domain Sword God, Ye Wufeng, he had always been overshadowed by his younger brother.

The proudest moment of his life had been the founding of the Blood Demon Palace. At his call, countless followers rallied.

In everyone’s eyes, Ye Wufeng was gone. There was only Ye Wucheng—the Blood Demon Ancestor!

After so many years, he had returned to the Eastern Domain, hoping to carve out a new future for himself...

’But what the hell have I run into?’

’Everything was going according to plan at first, so how did it all go so wrong?’

’Shui Qianrou was rescued, Shui Qianliu escaped with his life, Tie Hancang died a bizarre death, and even my own nephew, Ye Bai, was brutally killed by the Demon Evil God.’

’I tried to snatch the Seven-String Ancient Chapter, but I was cornered by the Seven Great Sects.’

’Then Xiao Ruofeng, instead of killing anyone, just inexplicably cleaved the ground open.’

’Which landed me in this godforsaken place... and I couldn’t use a single one of my backup plans.’

’I wanted to show these juniors the grace and power of a senior.’

’But this bastard, without a word, just walks up and slaps me across the face...’

Such a monumental humiliation could only be washed away with blood!

But... just as he was channeling all his Power, ready to teach that arrogant Demon Evil God the meaning of the phrase ’an expert is not to be humiliated,’ some idiot who came out of nowhere crashed right into him and knocked him flat.

After so many years, he had wanted to wash away the humiliation these Eastern Domain Jianghu people had inflicted upon him in the past.

And what happened? Instead of washing it away, he’d only piled on more shame.

Ye Wucheng now felt that the Eastern Domain was simply not a good place to be.

This godforsaken place was even more of a jinx on him than the Northern Domain.

The Jianghu people here were all insane!

"Hey? How are you?

"If you don’t speak up, I’m going to kill you."

Fang Shuwen waved a hand nonchalantly, trying to get Ye Wucheng’s attention.

At the same time, he silently sized up the thing that had just burst out of the wall.

’He doesn’t look like much, but he was hit with considerable force.’

’Was he trying to hunt down that masked Swordsman?’

’And he got knocked out from inside instead?’

’With skills like that... what gave him the guts to hunt anyone down?’

’And what’s the deal with that masked guy?’

’He sees a crowd and immediately tries to hide in the shadows... Severe social anxiety?’

In truth, Ye Wucheng wasn’t the only one who thought the Eastern Domain Martial World was full of weirdos; Fang Shuwen had the same impression.

But Fang Shuwen felt he should get down to business.

By nature, he should have taken advantage of Ye Wucheng’s daze to strike him dead with a single palm.

But looking at the man’s expression, as if he’d lost the most important thing in his life, Fang Shuwen suddenly found he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

’He’s a master, after all. You can’t just let a guy like that die without him even getting to use one of his signature moves, can you?’

So, in the spirit of humanitarianism, he gave a little wave.

It was definitely not because his fight with Ye Bai had led to a breakthrough in his Plum Blossom Scattering Hand, making him eager to test it out on Ye Wucheng.

He hadn’t expected, however, that these words would cause Ye Wucheng’s breathing to instantly grow ragged.

His chest heaved like a broken bellows.

He snapped his head up to glare at Fang Shuwen, the fury in his eyes practically solidifying.

The man who was once the Blood Demon Ancestor, now a White-clothed Swordsman, pointed his longsword.

"You... you’ve gone too far!"

Fang Shuwen’s eyes lit up. This was exactly the fighting spirit he was looking for.

He immediately leaped into the air, bringing a Vajra Tower Throwing crashing down.

Ye Wucheng’s expression darkened. ’This bastard attacks without any warning again!’

He rolled backward with the attack’s momentum, pushed off the ground with one palm, and shot into the air.

He, however, was now airborne.

Unfortunately, the strange man who had been blasted out by the masked Swordsman hadn’t yet realized what was going on.

By the time he came to his senses and looked up, a massive palm print over ten feet long was already descending from the sky!

In the span of a single dazed moment, a thunderous BOOM was heard!

The ground caved in by half a foot, and the massive palm print was embedded deep into the earth.

As for the man, he was driven halfway into the ground by the impact.

Fang Shuwen, however, didn’t spare him a single glance. With a light tap of his foot, he shot straight toward Ye Wucheng.

Ye Wucheng had just landed from his flip and hadn’t even regained his footing when Fang Shuwen was already upon him.

He immediately roared furiously:

"Do you really think I’m afraid of you!?"

HUMMM! With a flick of his sword, a thousand streams of sharp intent erupted in an instant.

Over the years, Ye Wucheng had also been diligently honing his skills and training his Martial Arts.

Not only had his Inner Strength improved by leaps and bounds, but his Swordsmanship had also reached an even higher level.

The style he now used was none other than the Creek Swordsmanship, a form he had created himself over many long years!

The name of this Swordsmanship wasn’t some self-pitying response to his brother Ye Wufeng’s River of Sword Qi, as if Ye Wucheng could only manage a creek.

Rather, it was born from Ye Wucheng’s own unique ingenuity and creativity.

Although Yu Yaoguang’s master, the previous Sect Leader of Yuqing Pavilion, Bai Liuli, had once criticized Ye Wufeng’s River of Sword Qi as "flashy but impractical," there was no denying that the Swordsmanship was truly like a great, surging river—vast, turbulent, and filled with an unstoppable momentum.

Ye Wucheng’s Creek Swordsmanship, however, was derived from it.

He knew he would never reach the same profound realm as Ye Wufeng in his lifetime; he lacked the magnificent spirit required for the River of Sword Qi.

But water flows in countless forms. There are endless oceans and great rivers that roll ever eastward, but there are also meandering tributaries and ever-changing creeks.