Lang Junqi pinched the bottle, his gaze burning hot.
That night, he returned to his private residence.
The Black-Clad Man was already waiting.
“How’s it going? Satisfied with the results?”
“What do you want me to do next?”
The Black-Clad Man shrugged.
“Monitor Lang Junxian and that little lover of his.”
“Just that?”
Lang Junqi didn’t believe it.
If it were only this simple, he could have easily found someone else to handle it.
The Black-Clad Man smirked.
“Also, find a way to get Bai Hongyuan’s blood.”
Lang Junqi fell silent for a moment.
“Alright.”
“Then, let’s have a pleasant cooperation.”
The Black-Clad Man waved his hand, slipping along the corner of the wall like a shadow and soon disappearing.
Lang Junqi sat motionless, his back straight as a rod.
After a moment, he pulled the cork from the bottle, the round pills rolling in his palm.
If he took them, he wouldn’t be laughed at for his poor talent and low cultivation, nor would his father neglect him because of it.
A ruthless glint flashed in Lang Junqi’s eyes as he shoved the pill into his mouth.
He needed to become stronger—only with power could he take back everything he had lost!
Spring passed into autumn, heat gave way to cold, and time slipped by in the blink of an eye.
Two years had passed since Lang Junxian returned to the Lang Family.
In these two years, Lang Junxian transformed from a disreputable servant-born bastard to the heir of the Lang Family.
The family’s other two sons appeared less and less in public, gradually fading from memory.
Lang Junxian had become the hottest golden bachelor of the upper-class elite.
Lang Juntian seemed to trust him immensely.
Lang Junning was sent abroad, and Lang Junqi was rumored to have gone into seclusion for cultivation, with no news for a long time.
All the major affairs of the Lang Family were entrusted to Lang Junxian.
This had always been part of Lang Junxian’s plan, though he hadn’t expected Lang Juntian to so readily let go and hand over the Lang Family’s reins to him.
Lang Junxian’s connection with Mo Qin had never broken.
After Mo Qin’s personality changed drastically and his skills became strange and unpredictable, almost no one dared provoke him.
His control over the Mo Family had reached a frightening level.
Mo Qin had contributed greatly to the smooth progress of Lang Junxian’s plan.
During these two years, Lang Junxian cultivated many people openly and secretly.
Although Lang Juntian gave him freedom, he would never allow him to recklessly destroy the Lang Family’s foundations.
So to seek revenge, Lang Junxian needed to find another breakthrough.
The Ji Family was that breakthrough.
The Ji Family of Shangjing was originally descended from the Xuan Yuan Clan.
For some unknown reason, they suddenly changed their clan name from Xuan Yuan to Ji.
The Xuan Yuan Clan, in ancient times, had always been the foremost sect of cultivation.
But at some point, they began to decline.
Up to the present, in Shangjing, they could only barely rank third.
That was the situation before.
But after Lang Junxian took over, the Lang Family frequently acted, even trending toward alliance with the Mo Family.
The Ji Family was suppressed several times and quickly grew restless.
The Ji Family first tried to curry favor with Mo Qin.
Unfortunately, times had changed, and the Ji Family’s people couldn’t even get past the Mo Family’s gates.
The envoys sent to negotiate were of high status within the Ji Family.
After being rebuffed, they left in anger and frustration.
Since the Mo Family route failed, the Ji Family turned to Lang Junxian.
Lang Junxian agreed to meet.
This time, the Mo Family sent an elder—very old-looking, with cultivation not particularly high, trembling as he walked.
“Is this all the Ji Family’s sincerity?”
Lang Junxian coldly regarded the elder with a tone full of arrogance.
The elder was patient.
He slowly stroked his beard and explained, “The head of the family considered that Young Master Lang is young and unaware of many past events, so he sent this old man.”
He cautiously glanced at Lang Junxian’s expression.
“Your mother’s past, Master Lang’s father probably never told you the details, right?”
“Oh?”
Lang Junxian raised an eyebrow.
“And how do you know Father hasn’t told me?”
The elder choked.
He hadn’t expected such a reaction.
The family head had intended to sow discord, hoping to pit father against son, but Lang Junxian wasn’t falling for it at all.
“The scheme to drive a wedge was clever, but you chose the wrong person,” Lang Junxian smiled.
“Excuse me.”
Lang Junxian left the room, his gaze flickering slightly.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The Ji Family’s blunder this time had actually helped him a lot.
Meanwhile, in his study, Lang Juntian faced a transparent stone wall.
On the wall were images of an old man and a young man—the scene from the private room.
In the stone image, Lang Junxian was already standing and leaving, leaving the elder alone, his face flushed red and white.
Lang Juntian clapped his hands in satisfaction. He was very pleased with Lang Junxian’s performance.
This son, whether in cultivation or cunning, had made him proud.
The Ji Family’s attempt was a reassuring confirmation.
It seemed he could entrust more affairs to this son in the future.
His own lifespan was nearing its end; if he could find a suitable heir before dying, he wouldn’t feel he had failed the Lang Family’s ancestors.
Bai Maomao was meditating in the courtyard.
Ever since Xiao Hei became the Lang Family’s young master, they had moved out of their old courtyard and into the main estate.
A small Juling Array had been set up in the residence.
Although it wasn’t as powerful as Xuan Huang University’s, it was still far better than training anywhere outdoors.
At this moment, Xiao Hei was nearly back. B
ai Maomao’s spirit stirred, and he gathered his spiritual energy, rising.
Looking out, he indeed saw Xiao Hei walking toward them.
A smile involuntarily appeared on Bai Maomao’s face as he approached, “How did it go?”
Lang Junxian pressed a finger against his lips and softly shushed him, then took his hand and led him inside.
Bai Maomao understood and obediently refrained from asking.
Once inside the bedroom and after setting up a defensive barrier, Bai Maomao finally couldn’t hold back and asked, “Did he believe you?”
“Mm.”
Lang Junxian answered with a smile.
“Not a hundred percent, but at least seventy to eighty percent.”
Hearing this, Bai Maomao’s eyes brightened with joy.
“Then our plan has taken another step forward.”
Seeing the dimples appear on Bai Maomao’s cheeks as he smiled, Lang Junxian liked him even more and couldn’t help but lean forward to peck him on the lips.
Bai Maomao immediately returned the kiss without hesitation.
Since they had confessed their feelings and been honest with each other several times, Lang Junxian could no longer tease him like before.
Just now, since Lang Junxian had saved him with a kiss, Bai Maomao was determined to kiss back.
Though the technique was a little rough, Lang Junxian held his aching teeth and thought to himself.
The plan was going smoothly, and both were in high spirits.
Lang Junxian deliberately went to the kitchen to prepare several new dishes for Bai Maomao to try.
Bai Maomao sat at the dining table, drooling as he stared at the feast spread out before him.
Lang Junxian was still preparing the final dish in the kitchen.
A maid carried a newly opened bottle of wine and, halfway there, accidentally twisted her ankle.
She cried out in surprise and fell toward Bai Maomao.
Bai Maomao reflexively reached out to catch the bottle, but the maid grabbed his arm.
She barely held onto him and prevented herself from falling.
Realizing what had happened, she panicked, quickly letting go of his arm and apologizing profusely.
Bai Maomao was about to say it was fine when he noticed a crescent-shaped wound on his arm, bleeding from where the maid had grabbed too hard.
The maid saw the wound and became even more terrified.
Tears streamed down her face as she bowed repeatedly in apology.
Lang Junxian carried the dish over and saw the bleeding wound on Bai Maomao’s fair arm. His expression instantly darkened.
The maid was so frightened by his cold aura she didn’t dare cry, her face pale as she stood frozen.
Seeing her pitiful state, Bai Maomao waved his hand, telling her to leave first.
The maid glanced at Lang Junxian.
Seeing no objection, she hurriedly fled.
Bai Maomao nonchalantly wiped the wound.
The crescent-shaped scar healed quickly, and Lang Junxian’s expression eased.
They resumed their affectionate meal.
No one paid much attention to this small incident.
In Lang Junqi’s private residence,
The Black-Clad Man looked at the single drop of blood inside the glass vial, clearly satisfied with Lang Junqi’s efficiency.
“You got it right after it came out. I underestimated you.”
Lang Junqi smiled weakly, his face somewhat pale.
The pill had indeed boosted his cultivation, but its potency was fierce. It had taken him two full years to recover.
The first thing he did after recovering was to fulfill his promise.
The Black-Clad Man stared at the glass vial, his thoughts unknown.
After agreeing on the time to send messages, he soon left.
His figure moved stealthily like a shadow to a corner without people.
With a gentle swipe of his hand, a rift appeared in the air.
He quickly slipped inside, the air around him fluttering slightly before calming.
It was very dark.
The Black-Clad Man ignited a small flame in his palm to illuminate a short path ahead.
After walking for a while, faint light appeared in the distance.