"What the hell...?" Lin Fan groaned, still half-buried in the shattered remains of the stone wall.
Dust and debris crumbled around him as he pushed himself free.
Shards began tumbling to the ground with muted thuds.
Lin Fan's expression was twisted with disbelief, eyes flickering with traces of anger and confusion.
He was absolutely certain his bloodline should have blocked any attack from someone in the Martial Realm or below.
It wasn't just a belief—it was fact, etched into his very soul.
And yet, the jagged imprint of the strike still burned across his nose, evidence of a reality he couldn't accept.
Slowly, Lin Fan wiped the blood from the corner of his nose, the crimson smear stark against his pale skin.
His hands trembled slightly as he steadied himself.
'How the hell did he make me bleed!? Is this bloodline a joke!?' Lin Fan thought.
"Are you actually getting back up?" Hei Long asked, voice carrying a note of genuine surprise as he folded his arms across his chest.
His expression was cool and composed, though the faintest hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.
And so, Hei Long couldn't help but shake his head, sighing.
"I have to admit, you're persistent. Stupid, but persistent."
Lin Fan's glare sharpened. "Shut up!" he spat, wiping more dust from his sleeve with a jerky motion.
"You only got lucky!" His voice was louder than intended, cracking slightly.
Hei Long raised an eyebrow, the smirk now fully formed on his lips.
He began to take slow, deliberate steps forward.
"Oh, really? Lucky, you say?" Hei Long's tone was dripping with mockery, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to pity.
"Wait... wait, stop walking toward me," Lin Fan stammered, instinctively backing up—
Hei Long closed the distance.
Lin Fan's bravado seemed to falter with each step that was taken toward him.
His feet stumbled over the debris-littered ground.
"We can talk about this, right?" Lin Fan's retreat turned desperate, and his heel snagged on a jagged chunk of stone.
His balance wavered, arms flailing uselessly before gravity claimed him.
He toppled backward with a graceless flump, his head striking the remnants of the wall behind him with a dull thud.
His eyes rolled back, and he went completely limp, sprawled out in the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut.
"…"
Hei Long stopped in his tracks, blinking once, then twice, before his shoulders began to shake.
He doubled over with laughter; the sound erupting from him in booming waves that echoed through the courtyard.
He clutched his sides, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he struggled to compose himself.
"Did you just... knock yourself out?" Hei Long looked at the unconscious body sprawled across the rubble:
'Oh man... This is the protagonist of the novel?'
He took a deep breath, straightening up and shaking his head in disbelief.
'So pathetic,' Hei Long thought, wiping the last tear from his eye.
Suddenly…
Li Mei, her face flushed and eyes glassy from the excess of alcohol, stumbled to her feet, her body swaying slightly as she clutched an empty bottle.
Her voice was a slurred mess of rage and confusion as she pointed at the unconscious body:
"Wha... what are ya waitin' for? Th-throw this... this ant into a cell. M-make him... starve!"
The guards moved swiftly.
They grabbed the body roughly, their hands gripping his arms and shoulders with brutal force.
Lin Fan's head lolled back, his body limp as they dragged him across the courtyard, his skull bouncing off the sharp stones, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
"…" Li Mei, her breath coming in ragged gasps, was about to let out another shout when—
Hei Zhòu covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes wide with concern and embarrassment.
"Honey, calm down, we have guests here—" he began, his voice a low murmur meant to soothe.
But Li Mei was beyond soothing.
With a sudden, violent motion, she slapped his hand away, her eyes blazing with fury.
"D-Don't... don't touch me, you... two-inch... d'f... defeater!" she stammered, her words slurring together but her meaning clear.
"What—!?" Hei Zhòu reeled back, his cheek stinging from the impact, a look of shock and hurt on his face.
Li Mei stumbled backward, her legs unsteady beneath her.
Just as she was about to crumple to the ground—
Hei Long was there.
He caught her in his arms, holding her gently but firmly.
"Mother, it seem's you've drank too much," Hei Long said.
Li Mei, her face flushing a deep red, looked up into her son's eyes and found herself at a loss for words.
'I love milfs…' Hei Long let his thumb brush softly against his mother's cheek.
"Be a good girl and dispel the alcohol from your body. You're a high-level cultivator, after all. You can handle this," he whispered into her ear.
Li Mei nodded, her eyes never leaving her son's face.
She took a deep breath, her body trembling slightly as she focused her Qi inward, pushing the alcohol from her system.
Within seconds, her eyes cleared, and her steps were steady as she stood on her own, her body no longer swaying.
However…
Hei Long kept his arm around her waist, his touch firm and possessive.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he murmured, "There you go, Mother. All better now?"
Li Mei shivered at his touch, her body responding to his proximity in a way that was both exciting and terrifying.
She nodded, her voice a soft whisper, "Yes. I'm fine now."
"I'm glad." Hei Long's hand, still on her waist, began to move, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on her hip, his grip tightening slightly as he pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers.
"…" Li Mei's breath hitched, her eyes widening as she felt his other hand, the one that had been resting on her shoulder, slide down her back, over the curve of her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh, squeezing gently but firmly.
She bit her lip, a soft gasp escaping her as she pressed her body against his, her hands gripping his robe, her knuckles white with the force of her grip.
"Son," Li Mei used — Spiritual Sense Communication —, "Someone might see."
Hearing his mother's voice inside his head, Hei Long chuckled, as he replied back:
"Don't worry, Mother. I would never allow anyone to see this. Our robes are placed, blocking any prying eyes. Oh, and don't worry. I'll help release you in a little bit. For right now, just behave."
Li Mei nodded, her voice steady as she replied, "Yes."
"…" Hei Long stopped groping his mother and turned to his father, who was still rubbing the handprint on his cheek:
"Don't worry, Father, I took care of everything."
"Oh…" Hei Zhòu let out a forced chuckle, his eyes darting between his son and his wife.
"Yeah, thanks," he replied, his voice lacking its usual confidence.
He felt a pang of emasculation, his authority undermined in front of their guests.
But he pushed the feeling down.
Hei Long turned back to the crowd, his smile charming and reassuring:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. Let us continue the wedding and make this a night to remember."