Wandering Swordsman |

"thump!"

With a crisp crack, Qian Baiwan could no longer hold on, his knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on the ground.

This kneeling required all his strength, and the sound of his kneecap hitting the stone slab was clearly audible.

"Your Excellency, Protector of the Nation! I, Qian Baiwan, am blind and have failed to properly educate my son. I deserve to die!" Qian Baiwan shouted, his voice shrill and tearful.

He paid no heed to the dust on the ground, knelt on his hands and knees, slamming his forehead against the bluestone slab, instantly leaving a bloody mark. "Please, Your Honor, spare my life! Please, Your Honor, spare my worthless son!"

Immediately afterwards, there was another "thump".

Zhao Wenyuan also knelt down without hesitation, his movements even faster than Qian Baiwan's.

He removed his official hat, held it in his hands, and trembled like a leaf in the autumn wind: "Your humble servant, Zhao Wenyuan, the prefect of Jiangzhou, was unaware of the Duke's arrival and failed to greet him properly. Instead, he uttered arrogant words, deserving of death! I beg the Duke to punish me! I beg the Duke to punish me!"

The two men's sons, Qian Baogang and another spoiled brat, were also dragged over by their respective fathers.

"You unfilial son! Kneel down now!" Qian Baiwan wailed, kicking his son hard so hard that the boy fell to the ground. "Kneel down and apologize to the Duke of Protectorate! Kneel down now!"

Zhao Wenyuan, his face also deathly pale, grabbed his son by the collar and forced him to the ground: "You wicked child! Do you want to kill your father? Kneel down! Kneel until your head breaks!"

In an instant, in the center of the street, the once arrogant "big shots" were all prostrate on the ground, desperately kowtowing to Shen Mo. The thud of their foreheads hitting the ground echoed one after another, accompanied by their desperate cries that resounded through the sky.

"I have failed to discipline my son properly, allowing him to commit such a heinous act and offend the Duke of Huguo. I am willing to spend all my wealth to atone for my sins, and I only beg for your mercy!" Qian Baiwan cried with snot and tears streaming down his face, completely losing any semblance of the dignity of a tycoon.

"I have failed in my duty to govern, which has led to my rebellious son offending a noble person. I am willing to accept the punishment!" Zhao Wenyuan was also in tears, his official authority completely gone, leaving him looking like a pitiful wretch.

The surrounding onlookers were completely dumbfounded, their mouths agape as if they could fit an egg inside. They had never seen anything like it before. The usually aloof and powerful tycoon and the prefect were now kneeling before a young man like two lapdogs, wagging their tails and begging for mercy?

Shen Mo stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze calm as still water, sweeping indifferently over the three pairs of fathers and sons kneeling on the ground. His eyes held neither anger nor smugness, only a detached indifference that looked down upon all living beings. That indifference was more terrifying than any thunderous rage.

After a long silence, Shen Mo spoke calmly, his voice low but like a stone thrown into a cold pool, stirring up a deathly silence in the room. "Lei Wanjun, your son has already paid the price he deserves, so I will not pursue the matter further."

These words were like a thunderclap, cleaving through the shadow of fear in Lei Wanjun's heart.

He felt as if he had been struck by lightning, his whole body trembled, and his tense nerves suddenly relaxed, as if a huge boulder pressing on his heart had been gently removed.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently, his eyes surging with unbelievable ecstasy, as if a drowning man had finally grasped the last piece of driftwood. "Thank you, Sword God, for showing mercy!" His voice was hoarse, almost choked with sobs, and his forehead slammed heavily against the bluestone slab with a dull thud. He dared not look up, fearing that this sudden grace was just an illusion, fearing that Shen Mo would change his mind at any moment.

His heart was in turmoil: the Sword God's reputation for repelling the Divine Emperor with a single sword strike had already spread throughout the world, and the Green Ox Sword in his hand had beheaded countless villains! To be spared by him today was truly a stroke of good fortune, a blessing from his ancestors!

While kowtowing, Lei Wanjun repeatedly said, "Thank you, Sword God, for showing mercy! Thank you, Sword God, for showing mercy!" He dared not say more, for fear that if he said another word, he would displease this evil star.

He secretly rejoiced: Fortunately, my son has practiced martial arts for many years. Although the broken arm is painful, he can still bear it. If my son were a spoiled brat, he would probably have already passed away by now!

He abruptly pulled his son, who was limp on the ground, to his feet, his voice trembling but filled with the relief of surviving a close call, "You unfilial son, get out of here!"

He practically dragged his son backward, staggering and looking back every few steps, afraid that Shen Mo would change his mind.

His eyes were filled with panic and urgency, as if a thousand troops were chasing him. He had only one thought in his mind: get as far away as possible, as fast as possible! He wished he could grow a pair of wings and fly away from this street that terrified him.

In the eyes of the crowd, Lei Wanjun's back looked like a frightened hare fleeing in panic, not even daring to look back.

He grabbed his son's hand, jogged along, turned the corner, and disappeared from the crowd's sight.

Only the bloody mark left on the bluestone slab from his forehead remained, serving as a silent warning.

Shen Mo watched Lei Wanjun and his son leave, his gaze calm as still water, as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.

He slowly turned around, his gaze like two invisible swords, piercing straight at Zhao Wenyuan and Qian Baiwan.

There was no anger or pity in his gaze, only an indifference that looked down upon all living beings, as if he were looking at two ants waiting to be slaughtered.

Zhao Wenyuan and Qian Baiwan froze, as if they had been doused with invisible ice water from head to toe.

When they saw Shen Mo's gaze turn to them, cold sweat instantly soaked their backs, sliding down their spines and dripping onto their clothes, leaving a dark stain.

Zhao Wenyuan's hands trembled slightly as he gripped the bronze seal at his waist, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Qian Baiwan's forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, like strings of tiny water droplets, which trembled slightly with his breathing.

Shen Mo's gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment, his eyes sharp as knives, as if he could see through their souls.

He spoke slowly, his voice calm as still water, yet it boomed like thunder in their ears: "As for you two, like Lei Wanjun, you can leave only one of your sons' hands and depart."

As soon as the words were spoken, Zhao Wenyuan and Qian Baiwan felt as if all their bones had been removed, their bodies went limp, and they almost collapsed to the ground.

They looked at their son, their eyes filled with despair and fear.

The sons of Qian Baogang and Zhao Wenyuan are two pampered young masters who have never even had their fingernails scratched, let alone been injured.

They were terrified; their faces turned deathly pale, their pupils dilated, and they trembled uncontrollably, unable to utter a single word.

"No...no..." Qian Bao instinctively stepped back, but bumped into the wall behind him with a dull thud.

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..." Qian Baiwan comforted his son, his voice trembling, but his fear was undisguised.

"Your Excellency, I beg you to show leniency!" Zhao Wenyuan's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his voice was trembling with tears.

However, Shen Mo simply stood there calmly, his gaze as cold as ice. His calm eyes sent a chill down Zhao Wenyuan and Qian Baiwan's spine.

"Ah—!" A piercing scream rang out.

Qian Bao and Zhao Wenyuan's sons, two pampered young masters, were so frightened by these words that their legs went weak and they collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

They didn't even have the strength to struggle; their bodies slumped onto the bluestone slab, their eyes closed, their faces as pale as paper.