Crazy Martial Arts Sovereign

C27 – Revenge for Kindness

The moment Qiao Mao stepped into the courtyard, he sensed several formidable presences. He immediately held his breath, his focus sharpening, as he moved with silent steps.

The situation at Qiao Shen’s Mansion was fraught with danger, given the number of skilled individuals present. Qiao Mao proceeded with utmost caution, knowing that any slip-up could be fatal, not just for him but also for his uncle and Shuang.

In his past life, he had clashed with the Nether Clan on numerous occasions, often lying in wait to ambush them. His familiarity with their energy signatures allowed him to slip past the guards undetected and make his way to the outside of Qiao Shen’s room. Peering through the window, he saw the scene unfold.

Inside, a middle-aged man in his forties lay on the bed, his complexion deathly pale as he gasped for air.

“Master, it’s time for your medicine,” a freckled-faced maid said cautiously.

She carried a bowl of dark medicinal brew to Qiao Shen’s bedside.

Qiao Shen, racked with violent coughs, weakly gestured to her, “Put the bowl down and leave.”

“Master, you really need to take your medicine quickly. If you don’t, you won’t last much longer,” the maid whispered, her voice tinged with fear of provoking Qiao Shen’s ire.

With the maid’s gentle urging, Qiao Shen attempted to lift the bowl, but his hands shook uncontrollably, and the bowl slipped from his grasp.

It crashed to the floor, shattering, the medicine splashing across the tiles. Qiao Shen let out a bitter chuckle and said with resignation, “I can’t even hold a bowl now; it looks like I won’t survive the night.”

“Master, please don’t say such things. With the head of the family gone, you are the backbone of the Qiao family. You must pull through,” the maid implored through her tears.

A shadow of concern crossed Qiao Shen’s eyes as he replied, “Now with Mao missing and my sister-in-law away, I fear my time is short.”

Qiao Shen was acutely aware that he might not make it through the night. With the Qiao family under the control of Qiao Guang and his cohorts, his demise could spell disaster for his young daughter, Qiao Shuang, a mere child of seven.

When the memories flooded back, he was consumed by rage. He couldn’t help but bellow, “If my elder brother were still alive, Qiao Guang would never have taken control of the Qiao family. It’s unbearable.”

Gradually, Qiao Shen’s voice grew fainter. His fists remained clenched, his nails digging into his palms, drawing blood that trickled down.

Were it not for the deadly poison coursing through his veins, he would not let Qiao Guang and Qiao Hou enjoy a single moment of peace, even at the cost of his own life. But now, he lacked even the strength to stand.

Rage still blazed in Qiao Shen’s eyes. Blood-stained tears streamed down his cheeks, giving him a fearsome appearance.

Qiao Mao, concealed outside the window, watched his uncle intently. A torrent of murderous intent had long been building within him, like a ferocious inferno in his heart, eager to erupt and lay waste to everything.

“Uncle,” Qiao Mao growled inwardly, barely restraining the impulse to burst in.

The sight of Qiao Shen’s blood-streaked face startled the maid. Fearfully, she exclaimed, “Master, I’ll go prepare another bowl of medicine!”

Without waiting for Qiao Shen’s response, she quickly exited the room. Closing the door behind her, she stood outside, patting her chest to calm her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she muttered, “My goodness! This old fellow is on death’s door, yet he’s still so daunting.”

“He spilled the medicine, and now I have to prepare another bowl,” she complained. Once her composure returned, she huffed and made her way to the kitchen.

Qiao Mao watched Pock Face retreat and his brow furrowed. A hint of lethal intent surfaced on his face as he stealthily trailed her.

Pock Face entered the kitchen and began to prepare the medicine, all the while grumbling under her breath.

Qiao Mao, feigning ignorance, followed her into the kitchen. With a sly smile, he asked, “Who’s got you so upset?”

Having visited the mansion numerous times, Qiao Mao was well-acquainted with Pock Face. Now twenty years old, she had been a street waif over a decade ago when his great-uncle took pity on her and brought her to the mansion to serve as a maid.

Qiao Shen had Pock Face by his side precisely because she was a maid with a clean background.

When someone inquired, Pock Face didn’t shy away but responded indignantly, “He’s on the brink of death, and he spilled the medicine Lord Qiao Hou provided. Now I have to prepare another batch. If Lord Qiao Hou holds me accountable, I couldn’t handle the consequences.”

“Lord Qiao Hou?” Qiao Mao, standing behind Pock Face, asked with an icy tone.

“Lord Qiao Hou instructed me to increase the Black Jade Purple Yin Poison dosage for that man, ensuring his demise tonight. That way, we can advance into the family’s inner circle sooner,” Pock Face boasted.

“He told you to increase the poison, to ensure the man dies tonight?” Qiao Mao clenched his jaw. His visage twisted into a grimace, seething with murderous intent.

Oblivious, Pock Face continued her tasks, her voice tinged with excitement, “Yes, I want him dead by tonight. Once he’s gone and Lord Qiao Hou secures the key to the Ancestral Land, not only will I be welcomed into the family’s core, but I’ll also receive a substantial reward.”

“All for a place in the family’s heart and some illusory reward, you would betray your own uncle?” At his limit, Qiao Mao pressed her for answers.

“The reward is significant,” Pock Face replied, her excitement palpable until she suddenly realized something. She whirled around to face Qiao Mao, questioning, “Who are you? How come I’ve never seen you before?”

Pock Face had indeed encountered Qiao Mao a few times, but now disguised as a man in his twenties, she failed to recognize him.

“Hmph, you treacherous wretch,” Qiao Mao scoffed. With a swift motion, Pock Face’s head tumbled to the ground.

Once, Pock Face nearly perished from hunger on the streets. Were it not for his uncle’s benevolence in saving her, she would not have survived to see this day.

Yet, to Qiao Mao’s astonishment, Pock Face showed no gratitude towards his uncle. Instead, she had been swayed by Qiao Hou’s bribe, willing to administer poison for a promised reward.

Qiao Mao would not hesitate to eliminate anyone who proved to be ungrateful.

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