Chapter 35: Chapter Thirty‑Four: Luofeng

Luofeng had fled home several days ago; because of the trillion‑dollar bounty, he was anxious and jumpy, spending a night suspicious of everything, and this time he did not come out so easily.

Luofeng is naturally cold‑blooded; when he senses threat and danger, he becomes even calmer.

Just as Jiang Jiang sometimes feels her heart race when she fantasizes, the same principle applies. When Luofeng faced the hundred‑billion bounty, that danger loomed close, the feeling that anyone might betray him quickly triggered his cold‑blooded nature.

After relying on his passive cold‑blooded calmness, Luofeng should have settled down and strived to increase his strength.

But the huge public debate unfolded, discussions about the bounty itself and about the "murderer" inevitably reached Luofeng's ears.

No matter which side one takes, condemning the murderer is always seen as right; as public opinion gradually turned toward the Li Yao couple, Luofeng, labeled the "murderer", faced ever more curses and contempt.

Although Luofeng's maturity far exceeds that of ordinary people, one cannot underestimate the fragility of human nature; Luofeng also couldn't resist, during his free time at night, browsing online discussions, and sometimes a faint urge to rebut would arise.

If, at night, his thoughts kept him awake, he would quietly go to the courtyard to practice his blade, swinging again and again until late at night, until his bodily fatigue could force him to sleep.

The next morning, because his mental energy was abundant, even after only two hours of sleep, Luofeng's face showed no sign of fatigue.

His younger brother, mother, and father all needed him as the family's pillar; no matter what, they had to get through this crisis together.

Luofeng kept himself as usual, simply ate breakfast and then began practicing his blade.

The family had lived under the same roof for over a decade, so they could naturally sense that something was off with Luofeng. But besides Luofeng, there was no other martial artist in the household; seeing him practice his blade meticulously in the courtyard, they had no chance to speak, nor did they know how to.

Luohua wheeled his wheelchair into the courtyard and watched Luofeng swing his blade from afar, silently observing; Luohua could feel a vital energy in Luofeng's heart, a spirit that he could not share with himself or the family to bear.

As the eldest son of the family, Luofeng had been diligent since childhood; upon entering high school he started part‑time work to supplement the household, thereby maintaining excellent grades, and he was also the school's "advanced student". After breaking through to become a martial artist, he moved his family into a villa, and in the wilderness he fought to earn the nickname "Madman".

In Luohua's eyes, his brother was dazzling and invincible.

Yet such a brother might have fallen into some trouble; as a family member and as a younger brother, he could only watch, just as he does now.

Luohua looked at his own legs; at this moment, this feeling of powerlessness was like a stabbing pain, a prick that pierced his heart.

"Ding‑dong~"

Luohua was thinking this when the doorbell suddenly rang.

The nanny had taken the day off; Luofeng, apparently too absorbed in his blade practice, hadn't noticed, so Luohua pushed his wheelchair slowly to the door and saw on the display that it was someone he knew.

He opened the door to let Chén Chén in.

"Chén Chén bro, why did you come?"

"Well, I thought the New Year was coming, so I came to pay a New Year visit and ask for a red envelope."

Luohua was a bit slow to react; it had just barely entered December, and there were still over two months until the Spring Festival.

Although he had only met Chén Chén a few times, he had also heard Luofeng mention that Chén Chén had an aloof personality, so he didn't think much of it.

"By the way, Chén Chén bro, my older brother seems to have run into some trouble; you know our family's situation, we can't help much, but if there's any problem I hope you can also lend a hand, Chén Chén bro."

Chén Chén laughed heartily and patted Luohua's shoulder:

"Don't worry, leave it to me."

After all, Chén Chén came precisely for this.

Luohua scratched his head; after all, Chén Chén was the friend his older brother mentioned most often, and among martial‑artist friends he was one of the closest, so he might be able to solve his brother's current predicament.

……

Luofeng practices the Ninefold Thunder Blade; in just a few months he has already mastered the second layer, and only needs an opportunity to break through to the third layer.

Swinging blade after blade, it was qi being vented, it was annoyance turning into fury, it was doubt turning into bewilderment; each stroke was exactly the same, none were deliberately held back, appearing perfect.

But perfection is merely an illusion; that is the error.

Skill, because of change, becomes unfathomable.

The Way, because of change, extends.

Chén Chén entered the area where Luofeng was practicing his blade with his hands behind his back, saying nothing, gradually approaching; Luofeng caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, but he paid no mind, continuing to practice with full focus.

"Are you practicing the blade?"

Luofeng did not answer, or perhaps he was answering with his actions.

"You're practicing terribly."

Luofeng then swung several more blows, and Chén Chén followed the rhythm, throwing punches in the open space.

In close‑quarters combat, Chén Chén is practically half a teacher to Luofeng; his martial skill, judged solely by realm, is already among the top two on Earth.

In the courtyard, Chén Chén's punches grew smoother and smoother, while Luofeng's blade became slower and slower.

"It's been a long time since we last sparred; lately we've both done a lot of big things—let's test our hands, let me see if you've made any progress."

As his words fell, a fist as big as a sandbag already shot into Luofeng's vision; Luofeng hastily retreated, then felt a force coming from his wrist, and instantly dropped his blade to fist, raising his hand to block Luofeng's straight punch from Chén Chén.

Luofeng used Chén Chén's punch to step back another two steps; Chén Chén did not seize the moment to press the attack, instead letting Luofeng steady his stance before formally assuming an offensive posture.

Luofeng took a deep breath, just got into stance, when Chén Chén already rushed forward again; Luofeng's heart secretly startled, yet he realized this was Chén Chén—indeed his style.

Hastily raising his guard, Chén Chén's fist was as hard as steel; blocking it, the wind that accompanied it seemed capable of scraping his face, yet as soon as that punch passed, the next one was already upon him.

Trying to dodge, under the relentless onslaught, the more he evaded, the more he would lose.

Trying to counter‑attack, he could find no opening in Chén Chén's attack rhythm.

Luohua watched from afar as Chén Chén and Luofeng fought from the east courtyard to the west, from the grass to the floor; even at a distance he could feel the airflow generated by the two. He could hear the fists striking fists, fists striking bodies, force passing through flesh and marrow, and steel‑like bones colliding with a "crack‑crack" sound.

Luohua sighed, wondering how much money this courtyard renovation would again require.

Even a layperson could see that Luohua's older brother had been constantly on the receiving end; Luohua had also heard his brother mention sparring with Chén Chén before.

His brother had always admired Chén Chén's elder brother's strength, often saying: "If Chén Chén really got serious, I might not even have a chance to retaliate."

And the present situation seems to be exactly as Luofeng said.

Chén Chén's attack rhythm grew faster and faster, Luofeng's defense became more and more strained; the first punch struck Luofeng's left shoulder, the second his abdomen, immediately followed by the third and fourth punches…

As the fists landed on Luofeng's body, Luohua couldn't help but feel a little worried, yet each punch seemed not to push Luofeng back too far, so Luohua drew back the hand he had placed on his wheelchair.

After all, it's just a spar; one can't go all out.

Luohua thought that to himself, while Luofeng was already cursing in his heart.

"Chén Chén, damn."

Luofeng hardly had any free time to vent his thoughts.

Since becoming a martial artist and relying on the psychic master's blessing, Luofeng had rarely been this sorry while madly hunting in the wilderness for over two months; the pain from taking these few punches in a row truly felt long overdue.

Luofeng wanted to admit defeat and stop, after all he really wasn't in shape now, but Chén Chén seemed unwilling to stop, instead his attacks grew fiercer.

Going on like this, being beaten to death by Chén Chén is not impossible.

Luofeng had no free time for doubtful thoughts; worries about his surroundings, bounty anxieties, urgent need for strength—all things slowly left his mind, and all unimportant matters ceased to matter.

All emotions calmed down as everything settled.

Survival, that's all.

This is Luofeng's "cold-blooded" state.

After taking a few more attacks from Chén Chén, he regained a bit of rhythm, but that alone still wasn't enough……

Luofeng stared deeply at Chén Chén, someone he'd known for years, yet he seemed never to have seen through him from the start.

Yet at this moment, he had driven himself to this point.

Although the "cold-blooded" state doesn't affect his current physique, it also brings a hidden boost: the coordination of psychic power and body.

Martial artists and psychic masters can progress together, but in actual combat they don't necessarily complement; psychic masters usually focus solely on psychic power, and even dual training yields less than the sum, whereas Luofeng in the "cold-blooded" state can rarely achieve an effect greater than one plus one.

But now, especially, he must not reveal that he is a psychic master.

Yet Chén Chén showed up at this time, insisting on fighting to this point, making Luofeng think more.

Absolutely cannot reveal the psychic master!

Luofeng didn't believe Chén Chén would really beat him to death here.

Just as Luofeng thought that, Chén Chén suddenly halted his offense; Luofeng was about to admit defeat when Chén Chén spoke first:

"Luofeng, why aren't you using your psychic power?"

"If you don't go all out today, I'll reveal everything you did on Kunlun kilometers."

Luofeng's heart jolted, but the extreme "cold-blooded" state kept his face unchanged; only after half a second did he react:

"What did you say?"

Chén Chén smiled as if expecting it, clenched his fist like a knife, then lightly drew the "knife" across his own head, and with a "Pop" it exploded.

Luofeng broke out in cold sweat, his brain racing faster:

He had always paid attention to the bounty matter, the location of the incident, the specific details—none of which had been made public.

His sneak attack had blown apart the heads of Li Wei and others; even if one could tell the culprit was a psychic master, they couldn't know it was a flying dagger.

Blow himself up?

If it were just one link, this could be understood, but a string of such events makes it impossible to regard it as mere probing, no matter how optimistic.

Luofeng hadn't finished thinking when Chén Chén launched another sudden assault……

Luohua watched, thinking more and more that something was off…… Were Brother Chén Chén and the older brother fighting too hard? From the stance, it seemed his older brother kept taking blows; combined with the earlier conversation and his older brother's expression, things seemed wrong.

Although Luohua couldn't become a martial artist due to his disability, his talent for the "cold-blooded" state was in no way inferior to Luofeng's.

Luohua hurriedly slid his wheelchair toward the living room, then after closing two doors he picked up his smartwatch.

"Luohua."

Luohua snapped his head around—Chén Chén was right behind him.

Luohua swallowed, eyed Chén Chén warily, and asked as if nothing were wrong: "Brother Chén Chén, what's up?"

Chén Chén lightly patted Luohua's shoulder and then took his smartwatch.

"If you make that call, your older brother will really be in trouble—come with me."

Chén Chén finished speaking, then returned to the courtyard on his own, walking and saying:

"You must be curious about the trouble your older brother has run into lately."

Luohua had no other emergency measures, and Chén Chén's words also concerned him; wondering what Chén Chén's purpose was, since he hadn't attacked just now, he likely wouldn't commit violence next either.

He pushed his wheelchair forward, keeping pace.

The pitted courtyard had few decent spots left; seeing Luofeng panting in the middle was truly not easy.

The uneven ground made the wheelchair hard to maneuver, so Chén Chén simply lifted it, bringing Luohua alongside Luofeng.

Luofeng lay still on the ground, a fist mark on his face, nosebleed dripping; Luohua had never seen his older brother beaten this badly.

"Don't worry, it's worse than you imagine."

Luohua stumbled on his wheelchair, and the prone Luofeng coughed twice.

"You don't need to go so hard to teach me a lesson," Luofeng said, his tone unexpectedly lightening.

Even in his extremely calm state, Luofeng still didn't unleash his psychic power, but he could be certain that Chén Chén had either witnessed or otherwise learned that he was the killer of Li Wei.

Based on that, Chén Chén could have claimed the hundred‑billion bounty, yet he suddenly showed up without notice and gave Luofeng a brutal beating.

In that case, Chén Chén is unlikely to intend to claim the hundred‑billion bounty.

Nevertheless, having reached that conclusion, Luofeng still didn't divulge even a bit of information to Chén Chén.

Chén Chén was pressed down by a fall, landing beside himself and level with Luofeng's body.

"This isn't for your own good—have you figured it out now?"

Luofeng didn't answer, but he had already acquiesced.

The hundred‑billion bounty, the surrounding comments, the danger that could affect his family—all these perils were like his hunting trips, like Chén Chén's fists.

Facing the dangers before him and those far away, all he could think or do was one thing: get stronger.

It wasn't that Luofeng didn't know this principle before; rather, distractions in his surroundings prevented him from clearing his mind, and his will couldn't fully control his thoughts.

Only in near‑desperation, when Chén Chén's every possibility had already seized his lifeline, did all thoughts unrelated to survival completely vacate his head.

At this moment, Luofeng—because of the surrounding talk and the anxieties over the ten‑million bounty—had no recurring thoughts in his mind; he was unprecedentedly calm.

And this, too, was the key to Chén Chén's talk therapy.

Having believed in one's own motive for coming over, then next, one will have to, even when Luofeng is at his most calm, also believe in oneself at that moment and utter something like a foolish remark.

"Of course, there's still one more thing."