Chapter 583: The Inheritance of Fear (Two-in-One)

San Yan was injured.

Yan Jing's expression remained impassive, but his mind was already beginning to race.

Who injured him?

Or, to put it another way, who in Eerie Capital could possibly hurt him?

A Divine Envoy, wounded in his own territory. And judging by the blood, it was no minor injury.

At their level, a minor wound would heal in an instant.

Yan Jing looked up, glancing at his brothers from the corner of his eye.

Did they know?

None of their expressions betrayed anything unusual. Shi Sanchuan watched San Yan, looking as though he were awaiting orders; Shi Yicheng stared calmly at the floor; Jiuhai was whistling; and Qi Hu held a tissue, occasionally covering his mouth to cough softly. Wuhe appeared the most worried, but he didn't seem to be worrying about San Yan's injury.

"Let's talk business."

San Yan tapped his armrest lightly, drawing everyone's gaze.

"Advent Day has been pushed forward again."

His opening words dropped a bombshell. "Advent Day will arrive in two months at the absolute most."

Shi Sanchuan and Shi Yicheng had the most visible reactions to the news.

"Is this news—" Shi Sanchuan reached for a nearby teacup and respectfully offered it to San Yan.

San Yan raised a hand, blocking the teacup. "Greed and Virtue Village both consulted the old monsters from the past and received definitive confirmation."

"Though I haven't asked your great-grandfather, my senses tell me the same thing."

Yan Jing noticed everyone's expressions grow significantly heavier at the news.

"The core issue is—our Family currently lacks anyone who can stand on their own." San Yan swept his gaze across the room. His look wasn't icy or particularly stern, but that strange, suffocating calm was hard for anyone to bear.

"The Mo Family, the Qi Family, the Zhu Family, every district in Sin City, Virtue Village, the Order Keepers—their candidates are either already Divine Envoys or are confident they will reach that position within two months. And our Family—"

"We haven't even decided on a candidate yet."

At these words, even Shi Sanchuan bowed his head, still holding the teacup.

"If you want me to attend this Advent Day, I actually don't mind," San Yan said, his face as tranquil as water. "It just means going through the motions, squabbling with a bunch of children."

"We couldn't possibly win anyway."

"You know the kind of figure that recently emerged from Lust. In less than fifty years, they became a Divine Envoy on their own and earned the acknowledgment of the Deities behind them, without touching a single drop of their family's resources."

"A commoner who fought their way out from among hundreds of thousands of elites."

"Heh."

"Our Family has seven people in total."

"Did I not give you enough resources?"

San Yan looked at them. No one dared to speak; they all just kept their heads bowed.

What followed was an eerily long silence.

The oppression brought by this silence far surpassed any scolding. Yan Jing felt it again—a certain fear constantly spreading through the air. This was the terror born of paternal authority, the silent oppression of an elder.

Yet his own fear wasn't particularly strong—because the others actually knew the "consequences."

Fear without foundation, fear without consequence, was like duckweed without roots.

Yan Jing experienced another flash of insight.

At a time like this, he was actually contemplating his own path, his mind completely emptying out.

Until Jiuhai's voice broke the eerie calm. "—Father, you can't blame only us."

Hearing this, San Yan looked up at Jiuhai. "What do you mean?"

It was just a simple look, but Yan Jing saw his third brother—who had behaved with such bizarre cruelty last night—shiver.

He hurriedly continued, "That situation in Lust is a minority, after all. Most of the other factions must have pulled out their long-hoarded trump cards for Advent Day—"

"Our—our family's trump cards—weren't they—"

His voice trailed off as he sensed the growing darkness on the face of the man seated before him.

But he still managed to force it out.

"Weren't they taken away by Old Sixth—"

The moment those words were spoken, the canvas that had shrouded this Family was finally torn away.

Yan Jing felt it. In an instant, the look in everyone's eyes changed.

And Jiuhai stubbornly pressed on: "According to family rules, there are three heirlooms in total. Old Sixth took two, and you refuse to give us the last one. We—"

"Are you blaming me?" Beneath San Yan's tranquil expression, no one could tell what dark currents were surging.

Yan Jing only saw a fine layer of sweat bead up on his third brother's still-recovering camera casing.

No one dared to say another word.

They didn't even dare to move.

Everyone felt it—as if a massive vortex was slowly coalescing above the meeting hall. The moment it finally erupted, they would all be caught in the blast and drown.

And within this soundless silence, Yan Jing could hear everyone's heavy heartbeats.

His control over sound had reached a microscopic level. Within those vibrantly beating noises, he heard the echoes of fear.

It was a silent infiltration, like the dew seeping out onto damp floorboards in the summer dawn.

Not lethal, but enough to gradually make the floorboards rot and mold.

Yan Jing once again immersed himself in his comprehension of fear, completely oblivious to the fact that San Yan's gaze had fallen upon him.

Several minutes later, just as Yan Jing's mind pulled itself back to reality, San Yan finally spoke. "You have a point."

Hearing this, Shi Sanchuan and Shi Yicheng looked at San Yan in simultaneous astonishment.

It wasn't as if they hadn't said similar things before.

But this was the first time San Yan had relented.

"In our Fear Family, every generation possesses three heirlooms."

Hearing San Yan's words, Yan Jing slowly raised his head. He had a feeling that this speech was meant for him.

He was likely the only one who didn't know such basic facts.

"A bird, a tree, and a handful of spring water."

San Yan's gaze seemed to rest on everyone, yet on no one at all. "These three items were a trade our ancestors made with the Source of Mutation."

"And in my generation, fortunately, that Source of Mutation became a Deity."

"Every generation, we receive a chick, a seed, and a drop of spring water. Only the most talented child in the Family can nurture and raise these three items."

San Yan's voice was calm, but Yan Jing suddenly felt a chill.

Suddenly, he saw a mass of bloody, mangled tentacles climb onto San Yan's shoulder.

The skin of those tentacles resembled a pig's, covered in a fine layer of white fuzz and stacked with wrinkles. Yet, unlike a pig's skin, it was coated in slime. Cloudy eyeballs gradually opened within those folds, blinking as they peered at the world.

It was the most ordinary of actions, yet that gaze filled Yan Jing with an intense sense of discomfort.

It felt as though the eyes in that mass of tentacles brimmed with pure malice; to be looked at by them meant you were walking toward your death.

The next second, the tentacles "dragged" a lump of something onto his shoulder.

It was a bird.

Or perhaps it was a bird.

Yan Jing wasn't entirely sure.

It looked more like a filthy, unstitched bird doll, its head half torn off, that had been viciously smashed into a slab of pork on a cutting board.

That was Yan Jing's intuitive impression.

He blinked.

This was San Yan's Fear Bird.

It looked completely different from his own.

Immediately after, San Yan opened his hand, and a sapling about the thickness of an index finger bloomed in his palm.

The "sapling" appeared to be over a dozen meters tall, yet it was exceptionally thin. The trunk was covered in finger-like tendrils. As the trunk swayed, those tendrils began to move. Big and small, densely packed, young and old—all kinds of fingers began tapping up and down simultaneously, as if they were playing a piano.

Yan Jing felt it again.

That objective, existing fear.

Such a twisted, counterintuitive mutation was also a component in the formation of fear.

"In your generation, what Ah Hai said is true. The tree and bird were taken by Old Sixth and are still missing, but Advent Day must be attended."

"Therefore, within a week, we will decide who the candidate is. The candidate will inherit my Fear Tree and Fear Bird, and combine them with that drop of Fear Spring to push for the Tenth Tier."

"Any questions?"

As his voice faded, everyone's eyes lit up simultaneously.

Only Yan Jing frowned.

"Father, actually—those things aren't necessarily lost, are they?"

Just then, Shi Sanchuan suddenly spoke up with a smile. "Hasn't Ah Ji already returned? Although Ah Shan didn't come back—didn't he disappear together with Ah Ji?"

With those words, all eyes turned to Yan Jing once again.

Just as Yan Jing was coming up with an excuse, San Yan spoke mildly. "I was just about to ask. Ah Ji, you don't have the aura of the Fear Tree or the Fear Bird on you. Where did those two things go?"

"I don't know."

Yan Jing shook his head. "Are you brothers willing to hear my story? It's a bit long."

"Tell it to me later,"

San Yan said calmly. "They don't have the time. They need to prepare for Advent Day."

With a single sentence, he completely shut down anything the others might have wanted to say.

San Yan stood up. "The evaluation consists of three points."

"First, your tier must reach the Ninth Tier."

"Second, you need to gain the acknowledgment of my Fear Bird."

"Finally, you must win everyone over. Three days from now, everyone will vote. The winner of the vote will become the candidate and inherit the three heirlooms."

"Any questions?"

No one spoke. San Yan nodded and walked toward them one by one.

First was Shi Sanchuan. As San Yan approached, the Fear Bird on his shoulder abruptly stretched its head out. Its neck, originally a few inches at most, suddenly extended to several meters long. The twisted, crooked head leaned right in front of Shi Sanchuan, its slug-like beak nearly pushing into his face.

Yet not only did Shi Sanchuan fail to show any disgust, he actually sat up straight, a faint look of anticipation on his face.

"Graaaw!"

The Fear Bird opened its beak, its hoarse, piercing cry instantly tearing through the entire room.

This meant it had acknowledged Shi Sanchuan.

Next was Shi Yicheng, who received the same acknowledgment, the sound even louder than before.

Then came Jiuhai.

Just as everyone assumed there would be no problems, the Fear Bird suddenly wrenched its neck away right before it touched Jiuhai. Then, as if extremely disgusted, it viciously spat out a glob of thick black phlegm.

The thick phlegm landed at the feet of a completely stunned Jiuhai.

San Yan nodded. "Ah Hai is excluded."

"Why?!!"

Jiuhai raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, staring at the Fear Bird on San Yan's shoulder. "On what grounds do you reject me?!"

"Heh heh." The Fear Bird opened its beak, its eyes revealing a mocking glint.

This scene pushed Jiuhai past his breaking point. In a towering rage, he actually reached out to grab the Fear Bird.

San Yan didn't move, but the Fear Bird stretched its neck and unleashed another hoarse screech. Jiuhai's body instantly froze. The next second, countless tentacles shot out from beneath the Fear Bird, swatting Jiuhai straight into the nearby wall.

Just as everyone thought the situation had settled, Jiuhai suddenly woke up with a roar. His body rapidly expanded, transforming into a terrifying giant nearly ten meters tall, and he forcefully tore off several of the tentacles wrapping around him.

Anger flashed in the Fear Bird's eyes. In the next moment, a black torrent spewed from its mouth and crashed onto Jiuhai.

Jiuhai's eyes immediately rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.

"Next."

San Yan's eyes remained tranquil.

The rest of them seemed completely accustomed to this scene of "father and son killing each other," all wearing natural expressions.

San Yan walked toward Qi Hu.

"Father, Ah Hu is—" Shi Sanchuan voiced a reminder.

After all, among the three rules to participate as a candidate, one was the requirement to be at the Ninth Tier.

Qi Hu was born physically weak; he hadn't even reached the Summit. In Shi Sanchuan's eyes, there was no need to waste time.

But watching this scene, Shi Yicheng's lips curled into a smirk.

The next second, Qi Hu, who had been holding his tissue and coughing all along, stood up. He looked at San Yan and spoke softly. "Father, I had a fortuitous encounter a few days ago. I am already at the Ninth Tier."

!!!

Shi Sanchuan stared at Qi Hu in disbelief.

But Qi Hu didn't even glance at him; he only looked at San Yan.

San Yan nodded.

He didn't even ask Qi Hu to prove it, as if he had known all along.

As the Fear Bird stretched its neck, another resonant cry rang out through the room.

San Yan continued forward.

Wuhe hurriedly waved his hands. "Father, I just reached the Summit."

"You should just test Ah Ji—"

Hearing this, even Shi Yicheng, who always seemed to have everything calculated, and Qi Hu, who had just astounded everyone, couldn't help but turn their gazes toward Yan Jing. Their eyes were sharp, carrying a hint of disbelief.

None of them had expected that their youngest brother had actually reached the Ninth Tier.

San Yan nodded and walked over to Yan Jing.

"How has Ah Ji fared outside all these years?"

"Not bad."

Yan Jing smiled and nodded.

"Hmm. After the test is done, you and Wuhe will stay behind and tell me about your situation over the years." San Yan's expression was gentle, like a normal conversation between father and sons—if not for that utterly disgusting bird leaning up against Yan Jing.

"Understood, Father." Yan Jing nodded, looking calmly at the Fear Bird that had approached him.

The next second, the Fear Bird violently twisted its head away.

"Hwa—ptui!"

A glob of thick phlegm landed.

"Hwa-hwa-hwa—ptui!"

Three more globs of thick phlegm splattered down.

It shrank back onto San Yan's shoulder, glaring viciously at Yan Jing.

Yan Jing's eyes held a smile.