Chapter Sixty-One: When It Comes to Seniority, You’re Still Too Young

“Brat, that’s enough.”

Just as everyone was anxiously watching this scene unfold, a voice as soft as silk suddenly sounded. Everyone turned to look and saw a woman of regal grace walking towards them at an unhurried pace. Qin Yang curled his lip, got up, and kicked the ugly man away. “Mom, if you’re here to plead for Old Man Han, I won’t listen.”

“She’s Qin Yang’s mother?” Liu Molan looked at Han Caixuan in surprise. This woman’s bearing and beauty clearly marked her as someone long accustomed to a life of privilege. Yet Qin Yang, at times as unruly as a child and at others as mature as an adult, seemed as different from Han Caixuan as heaven is from earth.

“You make such a scene and you’re still not satisfied? Old Han is your elder after all. You got into a brawl with your senior—that’s going too far.” Han Caixuan tapped him on the head, glaring at him, though her eyes were filled with amusement.

Qin Yang snorted and rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a hideous scar. He pointed at it, then at Old Man Han. “This was left by the Han family. I’m the type who pays back every grudge. Even if you told me to let Old Man Han go today, I’d still show up at the Han family home with a cleaver one day. I can’t swallow this humiliation—and they aren’t worth the suffering.”

A child is always flesh of a mother’s heart. Han Caixuan had thought whatever disagreement existed between Qin Yang and Old Man Han was just some petty squabble between the younger generation, made big only because of Qin Yang’s temper. But when she saw that gruesome scar, it felt as though it had formed on her own heart, aching fiercely.

The wound was obviously left by an arrow. One could easily imagine how terrifying it must have looked before it healed.

“Uncle Han.” Han Caixuan’s eyes grew cold. No matter what, this was her own son. How could she be at ease seeing him hurt so badly?

Old Man Han gave a bitter smile. Han Ye had mentioned landing a heavy blow on Qin Yang, but only because Han Tian’s life was in danger and there was no other choice. Later, hearing that Qin Yang was unscathed, he’d actually been a bit impressed with the boy, which was why he’d come to see him. He hadn’t expected such a scene to break out.

Qin Yang sneered and continued, “And Mom, if we’re talking about seniority, just because Old Man Han’s last name is Han doesn’t mean he’s related to you at all. What matters most is that Han Mufeng is my master. By seniority, Old Man Han should be calling me grandmaster-uncle. That wouldn’t be out of line.”

“What?” Everyone was stunned.

But Qin Yang was telling the truth. Having taken Han Mufeng as his master, in all of China, few could match his generation—aside from his own relatives, almost everyone else would be several generations his junior. Even old Master Zhou, now gone, would be his elder brother in the ancestral order. If Old Man Han was truly of Han Mufeng’s family, then Qin Yang really was his grandmaster-uncle.

“Boy, don’t talk nonsense!” Old Man Han’s face flushed with anger, and he shouted, “My ancestor has been dead for many years. How could you be his pupil?”

“Is that so? Want me to recite the Han family’s ancestral teachings for you? Or maybe demonstrate the long-lost Thirteen Spear Techniques of Xingyi for you?” Qin Yang’s tone was chilling. “Let me tell you, don’t think this matter is over. If I’m ever in a bad mood, I’ll print your Han family’s secret techniques for the world to see. Let’s see what’s left for you to brag about.”

“How do you know the Thirteen Spears?” Old Man Han was shocked.

Qin Yang snorted. “The Thirteen Spears were originally Zhao Yun’s specialty, passed down by Jiang Wei. Later, General Yue Fei, drawing on his army’s training methods, created Xingyi Boxing. Han Shizhong and Yue Fei were sworn brothers, and he inherited the art. Unfortunately, after endless wars, the techniques were lost, until the great hero Han Muxia emerged, reviving them with the help of other grandmasters like Li Cunyi. Yet the Thirteen Spears were so intricate he never truly mastered them. He joined the Whampoa Military Academy, hoping to resurrect the art in the army, but found nothing—until Han Mufeng became chief instructor. The two brothers finally grasped the true essence. But Han Muxia, proud and aloof, refused to work with the warlords, crippled himself, and lost the will to perfect the technique, dying young. Han Mufeng, however, honored his brother’s wishes, and finally completed the Thirteen Spears. Sadly, war and chaos prevented the art from being passed down. Han Mufeng was gone before he could teach it.”

“If my ancestor has passed, why do you claim to be his disciple and insult my family?” Old Man Han demanded angrily.

Qin Yang sneered. “Who says you can’t become a disciple after someone’s death? I, Qin Yang, can do just that. Believe it or not, I’ve mastered the Thirteen Spears. One day if I’m in a foul mood, I’ll sell it off to whoever wants it.”

“You!” Old Man Han was forced to admit that the move Qin Yang had used just now on the ugly man contained a familiar yet entirely new technique—likely the lost Thirteen Spears. His mind raced. “Qin Yang, did you open the Purple Gold Box?”

“The Purple Gold Box is Han Dongxue’s treasure. I’d never break a woman’s heart.” Qin Yang scoffed. “If you want to talk Han Dongxue, she’s the true direct descendant of the Han family. You? Hah. For the sake of a box, you even endangered Han Dongxue’s life. And you dare to show your face? Utterly shameless.”

“Nonsense! When did we ever harm Dongxue?” Old Man Han roared. “She didn’t listen to our advice and thought we were enemies, so she kept running away! Qin Yang, mind your tongue!”

“You say my words are out of line? Fine! Aren’t you all after the lost Thirteen Spears? I might just upload them to a website tomorrow,” Qin Yang said smugly. “I’m in a bad mood right now.”

“You, you, you—!” Old Man Han was so furious he was at a loss for words.

Han Caixuan’s expression softened, too. Seeing her son so fierce in seeking justice warmed her heart, but she still said, “Enough. Must you be so infuriating?”

“Hmph. Qin Yang, how long are you planning to keep the Han family’s heirloom from us?” Old Man Han said irritably.

Qin Yang spat on the ground. “That belongs to Han Dongxue. I’m just looking after her. I, Qin Yang, am not shameless enough to steal her treasure. And listen, Old Man Han, I’m your grandmaster-uncle. Don’t throw your age at me. If you want your family treasure back, persuade Han Dongxue. If you want to play tough, I’ll play along. But listen—your issues with Han Dongxue are your business, as long as you don’t cross the line I won’t interfere. But as for my grudge with you, don’t think it’s over. Like I said, if I’m in a bad mood tomorrow, I’ll find your enemies and teach them the Thirteen Spears myself!”