"Qing Yue, you don't have to marry that lustful bastard!"
The heavy wooden doors of the main hall burst open with a resounding crack, silencing the murmurs of those gathered.
Lin Fan stormed in, his long dark green hair swaying with each step, strands catching the light like threads of jade.
His eyes—brilliant, defiant, and sharp as emerald blades—glowed with confidence that seemed to cut through the very air.
Seated on a raised platform, flanked by Elders in golden robes—
The Patriarch's gaze shifted.
His expression remained stoic, though his eyes glimmered with the faintest hint of surprise.
However…
The Patriarch did not answer.
Instead…
"Silence!" A female Elder got up from her seat, her narrowed eyes locked onto Lin Fan.
Killing intent erupted from her.
"A mere slave dares to address the Young Miss by her name?!"
The air thickened, crushing down upon Lin Fan's shoulders like a mountain had descended from the heavens.
His knees struck the floor with a dull thud, and sweat beaded along his forehead as he struggled to breathe.
His fists clenched against the pressure, knuckles white, veins bulging.
'Damn it... why am I being suppressed so easily?' Lin Fan cursed inwardly, frustration mingling with disbelief.
'Shouldn't my bloodline be ancient? Overpowered even?!'
He had awakened the bloodline of the Heavenly Turtle, an existence said to rival the mightiest of cultivators.
Yet here he was, groveling on the floor, powerless beneath the killing intent of a single Elder.
The Patriarch raised a hand. "Enough. Stop your killing intent."
The Elder inclined her head respectfully. "At once."
The suffocating aura vanished instantly, like a storm retreating beyond distant mountains.
Lin Fan gasped for breath but did not rise.
His forehead nearly touched the floor as he spoke, voice steady despite his trembling frame.
"I apologize for my intrusion, Patriarch. But the Young Miss does not have to marry the Hei Family's Young Master."
A murmur swept through the hall like the whisper of a rising tide.
The Elders exchanged glances—some surprised, others seething with outrage.
Lin Fan's eyes flickered to Qing Yue—
Who sat motionless, her expression unreadable. Her light blue eyes widening just a fraction, the movement almost imperceptible.
Her long, silver-white hair cascaded down the sides of her seat, pooling elegantly around her.
She wore a luxurious white robe embroidered with threads of silver and adorned with delicate jewelry.
The Patriarch leaned back in his seat, fingertips pressed together.
His gaze settled on Lin Fan with the weight of a mountain.
"And what gives you the right?" he began:
"to question my family's decision? A mere slave…"
Lin Fan's voice rose, stronger this time:
"Because the Young Miss deserves better than to be sold for an alliance!"
Gasps erupted from the elders.
Qing Yue's body shook a little, her lips parting slightly.
The entire Qing family was quite aware of the topic's sensitivity.
After all, nobody wanted to use the word: "Sold".
'So beautiful…' Lin Fan thought, his heart pounding as he gazed at the Young Miss.
Still, he forced himself to carry on:
"The Hei Family is corrupt. Their Young Master... he is known for his debauchery. Is this the fate we choose for her?"
"You—!"
An Elder sprang to his feet, robes flaring, eyes blazing with contempt.
But before another word could escape his lips—
The Patriarch spoke:
"Enough."
The Elder hesitated to say another word, fists clenched tight, knuckles pale against his trembling skin.
His gaze burned with barely restrained fury, but he sank back into his seat, spine rigid with defiance.
'That slave… If he disrupts this marriage, I'm as good as dead.'
The thought gnawed at the Elder.
After all…
The Hei family had already lined his pockets—
Failure was not an option.
If this fell apart, there would be no mercy.
The Patriarch sighed.
"Since this is your first offense, I will be merciful. Ten years of manual labor in the mines should temper your insolence. Remember this, boy—your words hold no meaning here."
"Wait—!" Before Lin Fan could even register the sentence—
the Patriarch waved his hand with a flick of his wrist, and Qi wrapped around Lin Fan's body.
His eyes widened as he was yanked off the floor, suspended in midair like a mere ragdoll.
Elders watched with muted satisfaction, while Qing Yue's gaze flickered, her hands tightening on her sleeves.
'Will she speak up?' Lin Fan caught that glimpse of hesitation—
But before he could call out to her, he was flung backward.
The grand doors of the hall flew open, and Lin Fan was launched outside, his body hurtling through the air before crashing into the dust with a thunderous impact.
Pain shot through his limbs as he groaned, pushing himself off the dirt-streaked ground.
His vision blurred for a moment before sharpening on the familiar, ragged faces of those around him—
Other slaves.
A chorus of mocking laughter erupted almost instantly.
"Look who it is! Our brave hero's back!" one sneered, arms crossed, lips curled in a smirk.
"Let me guess… you tried to play savior? Think you're some kind of hero, huh? Idiot." Another spat on the ground near his feet.
"Did you actually believe you could stop the marriage?" a third jeered, shaking his head as if the very idea was laughable:
"The best you can do is sit in the corner and watch!"
The taunts rolled over Lin Fan like waves, biting and cruel, yet he forced himself to stand.
He straightened his back and dusted off his ragged robe, the flickers of green in his eyes blazing defiantly.
He locked eyes with each sneering face.
Lin Fan than took a breath, then roared:
"Shut up! All of you! You can mock me now, but you will regret ever looking down on me! I, Lin Fan, will soar through the heavens! Watch me! I won't be a slave for long!"
For a moment, silence fell over the other slaves.
However…
It didn't last long…
The laughter resumed—
Harsher, louder, unrestrained.
Some doubled over, others slapped their knees in derision.
Lin Fan's fists clenched, but he said nothing more.
He turned on his heel and marched off.
"Laugh all you want," Lin Fan muttered under his breath, eyes fixed forward.
"One day, you'll choke on those words."