Outside the main hall, the sound of battle echoed in the air for a brief moment before it came to a stop.
From the courtyard to the left, Mao Yun dragged a middle-aged man, covered in blood, toward the main hall.
From the last courtyard, Zhang Wei emerged with a satisfied grin on his face. "Now I understand why everyone’s crazy about a Mortal-Grade weapon," he muttered, still in shock.
"Indeed, a Mortal-Grade weapon is entirely different from an ordinary one," Mao Yun nodded in agreement.
The door to the main hall was pushed open, and Jun Wu stepped out.
"Young Master," Mao Yun and Zhang Wei greeted respectfully when they saw him.
Looking at their calm young master, the two were inwardly shocked. From Jun Wu’s composed demeanor, they knew he had successfully handled his part of the task.
A couple of weeks ago, their young master had been a weak, helpless young man. But now, he could deal with three First-Rated Martial Artists as if it were nothing.
The two retainers exchanged subtle glances as they walked toward him. Though they had initially been forced to serve him, they now willingly decided to follow such a monstrous talent and see where his limits lay.
"Young Master, what should we do now that the Gong clan has noticed our arrival?" Mao Yun asked with a slight frown.
They had come to Silver Star City to start fresh, but who could have expected things to go so awry?
"We do nothing..." Jun Wu said with a sigh. The situation was direr than he had imagined. "We need to prepare for the clan’s arrival."
From his encounter with the city lord, he could infer that the Jun aristocratic clan would come for the Mortal-Grade weapons. Now, it was too late to regret.
If he had known the trouble it would cause, he wouldn’t have auctioned the two Mortal-Grade weapons.
Neither he nor his retainers had expected such weapons to create such a commotion. Now that things had escalated, they could only go with the flow.
Mao Yun sighed. He hadn’t expected their problems to escalate to this degree either. Now, they could only take it one step at a time.
In front of an ordinary-looking mansion, three young masters stood imposingly with their entourage at the gate. Their mere presence commanded power and respect.
All the commoners in the vicinity scurried off to save their lives. In a matter of minutes, the street was quiet and empty, save for the Jun’s entourage.
"What else should I expect? That bastard will live in such a slum," Jun Hui spat, his voice dripping with disdain.
"This filthy slum makes me want to puke," Jun Wuhan added.
"Let’s go in," Jun Jiahao commanded, leading his entourage into the mansion.
The group entered the mansion, their faces riddled with scorn and disdain. Even the guards and maids wore expressions of contempt.
"Welcome, Young Master Jiahao," Zhang Wei greeted them, forcing a smile.
Even the heavens knew how much he hated proud, pretentious bastards. Unfortunately for him, they were the Jun clan, and he didn’t dare show any displeasure.
Jun Jiahao looked at Zhang Wei from head to toe before demanding, "I heard my little brother has mysteriously recovered from his sickness. Take me to him—I want to see for myself."
Apart from the Mortal-Grade weapons, his other mission was to confirm the rumors about Jun Wu’s recovery.
Many in the clan didn’t believe it. For the past eighteen years, Jun Wu’s father had sought many famous doctors to find a cure for him, all to no avail.
Suddenly, Jun Wu recovered out of the blue. Something was definitely amiss, and Jiahao had been sent to confirm the rumors.
Still forcing his smile, Zhang Wei led Jun Jiahao into the main hall. Upon entering, they saw Jun Wu seated calmly in the central seat of the hall.
Seeing him, Jun Jiahao and his entourage were stunned. His mere presence exuded an aura of mystery and nobility that was impossible to fake.
Huh?! How is this possible? Jun Jiahao exclaimed inwardly.
The Jun aristocratic clan was a noble clan, and all its descendants carried a noble aura. But compared to the aura radiating from Jun Wu, they all paled in comparison—even those both inside and outside the clan.
Only the elders of the clan came close to matching it.
Noticing their dumbfounded expressions, Jun Wu chuckled inwardly. I suppose the memories and experiences of the ancient being haven’t gone to waste after all.
"Senior Brother, what brings you to my humble abode?" Jun Wu asked calmly from his seat.
Jun Jiahao snapped out of his thoughts, regaining his prideful demeanor. "Why are you seated? Don’t you know you should come and welcome your Senior Brother?"
To him, Jun Wu was an ignorant brat who could easily be taught a lesson and disposed of. He just needed to show him who held the real power.
Without any change in his expression, Jun Wu replied, "I’ve lacked manners since I was young, as Senior Brother surely knows. Please, take a seat."
"Shut up and come down to welcome us!" Jun Wuhan shouted angrily. He couldn’t tolerate Jun Wu addressing them while seated, as if he were superior.
Jun Wu didn’t even bat an eye at Jun Wuhan, continuing as though nothing had happened. "If you insist on standing, please be my guest. Now, what brings you here?"
Seeing this, Jun Jiahao’s eyes narrowed in rage. How dare this bastard look down on me? I am the pride of the Jun clan!
He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"Junior Brother, pride precedes a downfall. Watch yourself—you might not be able to stand back up next time," he said in an icy tone.
It was a blatant threat, but Jun Jiahao didn’t care. Jun Wu had crossed the line, and he would deal with him mercilessly.
"Thank you for the advice, Senior Brother. If you have nothing else to say, you may leave. I need to rest," Jun Wu responded, waving a hand dismissively.
"You!" Jun Hui growled, gritting his teeth in fury. He wanted nothing more than to rush at Jun Wu and beat him to a pulp. However, he restrained himself, knowing the plan.
As they departed, Mao Yun emerged from his hiding spot and muttered, "Let’s see how the clan responds to the Young Master’s recovery."