radicalducati Page 74
Page 74
Wang Bing's giant claws, capable of binding spirits, suddenly grabbed at empty air, exploding into a chaotic mass of black energy.
"What...?!" Wang Bing was completely stunned. The rage on his face froze instantly, replaced by incredulous astonishment and a feeling of utter humiliation at being played like a fool. Once! And again!
The powerful spirit he had just acquired was sent away right before his eyes! And the other party was a mere Feng family brat whom he considered an ant, utterly insignificant! Moreover, this brat used the core secret technique of "Spirit Binding and Commanding Generals," which his Wang family treasured!
The humiliation, like molten lava, instantly shattered his last shred of reason. A raging fire consumed all thought, leaving only the most primal, brutal impulse to destroy!
"Feng Xingtong! You're asking for it!!!"
Wang Bing let out an inhuman roar, transforming into a raging hurricane carrying dense black energy! He abandoned all spells and techniques, relying solely on overwhelming energy and beast-like killing intent to instantly pounce on Feng Xingtong, who was exhausted from continuously using forbidden techniques and could barely stand!
Feng Xingtong didn't even have time to make any defensive stance. He only saw a fist wreathed in violent black energy, seemingly from hell, rapidly enlarging in his field of vision!
boom--! ! !
A dull, heart-stopping bang exploded in the center of the ring!
That fist landed squarely and without any fancy moves right in the center of Feng Xingtong's chest!
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
Feng Xingtong's body was struck head-on by a battering ram, and he instantly curled up like a shrimp.
A series of sharp, cracking sounds, like popping beans, echoed throughout the deathly silent training ground! His clothes and protective qi ripped and disintegrated like paper. The immense impact sent his feet flying, his entire body hurtling backward like a broken doll with its strings cut!
puff--! ! !
A mouthful of thick, fresh blood mixed with fragments of internal organs splashed out in a blinding crimson arc along the trajectory of his backward flight, splattering heavily onto the bluestone floor of the arena, a horrifying sight.
The light in Feng Xingtong's eyes dimmed at a visible speed, and the breath of life was like a candle flame in a storm, suddenly becoming extremely weak.
His body slammed heavily onto the edge of the ring, more than ten meters away, kicking up a cloud of dust. He lay motionless, with only weak, bloody twitches proving that he still had a sliver of life left.
Wang Bing maintained his punching stance, his chest heaving violently as he gasped for breath, the violent black energy around him not yet fully subsided.
He stared intently at Feng Xingtong, who lay limp and lifeless in the distance, his eyes devoid of any pity or regret, only a twisted, venting pleasure and a lingering anger at losing his prey.
"Useless! This is what happens when you go against the Wang family!" He spat fiercely in Feng Xingtong's direction.
However, Feng Xingtong still gave Wang Bing the middle finger.
With bloodshot eyes, Wang Bing shouted at Feng Xingtong, "I'll make you vanish into thin air!"
However, the instant his murderous intent locked onto Feng Xingtong—
"Stop when you've made your point; don't take lives!"
On the sidelines, Lu Jin, the patriarch of the Lu family who had been watching the game in silence, slowly stood up.
He didn't unleash any earth-shattering aura, but his tall and imposing figure was like a silent mountain, and an invisible pressure instantly enveloped the entire arena, forcefully suppressing all the surging Qi. The atmosphere on the sidelines froze instantly.
Wang Bing's surging killing intent was abruptly halted, as if doused with a bucket of ice water.
He turned his head abruptly, his scarlet eyes meeting Lu Jin's deep, unfathomable gaze, and his body involuntarily stiffened.
"Hmph..." Wang Bing gritted his teeth and squeezed out a cold, unwilling snort.
He glared at the dying figure in the distance, then abruptly flicked his sleeve, the remaining black energy unwillingly receding back into his body.
He didn't look at anyone again, turned around, and strode towards the sidelines with an almost boiling resentment, each step seemingly about to crack the ground.
As he left, the suffocating pressure in the arena finally dissipated.
........
Chapter 80 Glad
After Wang Bing left, Feng Shayan came onto the field and looked at Feng Xingtong on the field.
For the first time, her voice lost its usual composure, revealing a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.
Feng Xingtong lay there on his back, his face ashen, his lips and chest soaked and congealed with large patches of dark red blood.
His chest rose and fell so faintly that it was almost imperceptible; each inhale was accompanied by a hoarse, grating sound like a broken bellows, and each exhale was accompanied by the oozing of tiny blood droplets.
His eyes, which always held a gentle smile, were tightly closed, and his long eyelashes cast two deathly shadows on his bloodless skin.
Feng Shayan's fingers hovered above her brother's blood-stained cheek, trembling slightly, and she dared not touch him for a moment.
She could clearly feel the chilling aura surrounding him, a life force that seemed to be rapidly slipping away like a candle flame.
Anger, heartache, and a bottomless fear gripped her heart instantly, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She abruptly raised her head, her eyes, made even deeper by suppressed rage, like poisoned ice picks, sweeping towards the direction Wang Bing had been carried away.
The killing intent in her eyes was almost tangible. Her fist clenched tightly at her side, the knuckles cracking from the excessive force, and a faint, distorted spatial fluctuation emanated from between her fingers.
Just then, an untimely laugh, like that of a broken bellows, broke the oppressive atmosphere in this corner.
"Hehehe... Oh, Chairman Feng, my dear nephew..." Wang Ai, with his short and stout figure, leaning on his signature dragon-head cane, strolled over slowly with a "kind" smile that looked like the wrinkled bark of an old tree, as if the person who had just been carried away was not his own grandson.
"These children are just sparring around, they don't know their own strength. Nephew Xingtong is badly injured... That bastard Wang Bing! He really didn't know his limits! I will definitely punish him severely when we get back! President Feng, please be magnanimous and don't take it to heart..."
His words seemed to be an apology, an attempt to smooth things over, but there was no real remorse in his tone; it was more like a routine formality after declaring victory.
When his cloudy old eyes swept over the dying Feng Xingtong on the ground, a barely perceptible hint of satisfaction and coldness even flashed across them.
He specifically emphasized the word "exchange of skills," downplaying the brutal beating as an accident.
All eyes, including Feng Shayan's almost murderous gaze, were focused on Feng Zhenghao, who was walking up next.
Feng Zhenghao, the president of the World Society and one of the Ten Elders, walked with a steady gait, his face still bearing that signature, seemingly perpetually calm and gentle smile.
He walked closer, his gaze falling on his critically injured son, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker in the depths of his eyes.
He did not immediately go to see the sand swallows, nor did he respond to Wang Ai's hypocritical attempt to smooth things over.
He faced Wang Ai, his smile even more "sincere," and his voice clearly carried throughout the deathly silent area, reaching the ears of every audience member who was listening intently:
"Mr. Wang, you're too kind!"
Upon hearing this, not only were the onlookers stunned, but even Wang Ai's fake smile froze slightly.
Feng Zhenghao's voice carried a strange, almost impassioned tone, as if he were announcing something momentous and worth celebrating:
“Punishment? No, no, no! Elder Wang, you mustn’t punish my nephew Wang Bingxian! He did well! He did an excellent job!”
The crowd erupted in uproar! Countless eyes were filled with disbelief and utter absurdity! What was Feng Zhenghao saying? His son had been beaten like this, and he said it was good?!
Feng Shayan suddenly looked up at her father, her eyes filled with shock, confusion, and even a stinging pain of betrayal! Her clenched fists were so tight that her nails almost dug into her flesh.
Feng Zhenghao, however, seemed oblivious to anything amiss and continued speaking loudly, his tone resolute:
"That kid Xing Tong! He's been too well protected by me and the family! He's so arrogant! Spirit Control and Command?" He sneered, his contempt undisguised, pointing at Feng Xing Tong on the ground. "Does he even deserve it?! He can't even protect a spirit! And he dares to embarrass himself at such a grand event as the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony! The Wang family's inherited Spirit Control and Command is the true orthodox method! It's profound and powerful! Nephew Wang Bing's 'Spirit Subjugation' technique just now was nothing short of divine! Let this kid see what he's made of, let him learn a lesson! Let him know that in front of the true Spirit Control and Command, his meager skills are not even worthy of carrying his shoes!"
Every word was like a poisoned icicle, piercing Feng Shayan's heart and the hearts of all those who sympathized with Feng Xingtong.
Feng Zhenghao's words were filled with denigration of his own family's heritage and fanatical praise for Wang Bing's tyranny, which was simply unbelievable!
A glint of shrewdness flashed in Wang Ai's cloudy old eyes, and the fake smile on his face returned to normal, even carrying a hint of smug satisfaction. He stroked his beard, "Ah, Chairman Feng, you flatter me, you flatter me... Nephew Xing Tong still has a lot of potential..."
However, Feng Zhenghao wasn't finished speaking.
When everyone, including Wang Ai, thought this was the limit of praise—
Feng Zhenghao's smile faded slightly, replaced by an extremely solemn expression, even one filled with boundless admiration and gratitude.
He abruptly took a step back, facing Wang Ai, under the gaze of countless horrified eyes.
He knelt heavily on both knees!
The hard kneecap struck the stone slab with a dull yet crystal-clear echo! It resonated in everyone's hearts!
The entire training ground fell into a deathly silence, as if in a vacuum! Even the sound of breathing disappeared!
The sand swallow's pupils contracted sharply, and its body shuddered violently!
Feng Zhenghao braced himself with both hands on the ground, bending deeply over until his forehead almost touched the cold earth.
"Elder Wang! The Wang family has been a great benefactor to the Feng family! If it weren't for the noble deeds of our ancestors, how could our Feng family have inherited the art of summoning spirits and commanding generals? This kindness will be remembered by the Feng family for generations to come, and we will never forget it! Today, my nephew Wang Bing has disciplined my son, which is precisely to teach my son a lesson on behalf of the Feng family! To set the Feng family right from the wrongs! To make my good-for-nothing son, and everyone in the Feng family, always remember the grace and authority of the Wang family!"
"For this kindness and virtue, I, Feng, am...kneeling in gratitude!"
After he finished speaking, he remained kneeling and kowtowing, not rising for a long time.
The slanting sunlight cast a long, long shadow of him kneeling on the ground.
The figure appeared so small and insignificant on the cold, hard bluestone ground, creating a stark contrast to his status as the president of the World Society and one of the Ten Elders!
Wang Ai stood before him, looking down at this "important figure" who was bowing deeply to her. His smile was now fully extended, radiating a satisfied and cold arrogance of absolute control. He raised his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a mere fly.
"Oh dear, Chairman Feng, you...you're really too kind to me! Get up, get up! We're all family, there's no need for such a grand gesture! From now on, the Feng family will just follow the Wang family closely."
Feng Shayan looked at her father's back as he kowtowed to the ground, at his forehead that was almost touching Wang Ai's shoe tip, and then at her younger brother lying motionless on the cold stone slab. The bloodstains all over the ground stung her eyes.
An indescribable bitterness, coldness, anger, and a deeper, darker sorrow, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed her.
She bit her lower lip until the strong taste of blood filled her mouth, barely managing to suppress the violent trembling of her body.
Her father's figure had never seemed so tall, and never so...unfamiliar. What turbulent undercurrents lay hidden beneath that seemingly humble kneeling? She didn't know. She only knew that her brother's blood was very red; the stone slabs on the ground were very cold; and Wang Ai's hypocritical smile and her father's kneeling back would be like a red-hot branding iron, deeply imprinted on the depths of her soul.
.........
It was evening at the hospital at the foot of Longhu Mountain.
On the hospital bed, Feng Xingtong's face was even more bloodless, almost transparent.
His chest and arms were wrapped in thick bandages, and his exposed skin was covered with large patches of lingering bruises and gruesome stitches.
He leaned against the high pillow, each slightly deeper breath aggravating his wound, bringing a dull, throbbing pain, and fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead.
Feng Zhenghao sat on a chair by the bed, his tall figure casting a silent and heavy shadow under the light, almost completely enveloping Feng Xingtong.
He was no longer the leader of the World Society who could talk and laugh and control the overall situation on the training ground, nor was he the "humble" family head who knelt down and kowtowed to Wang Ai in front of everyone, praising her grace.
At this moment, he was simply a father, watching his son nearly destroyed, his brows etched with deep weariness and an indescribable complexity. The only sounds in the ward were the hum of the medical equipment and Feng Xingtong's labored breathing; the air felt as stagnant as lead.
After a long silence, Feng Zhenghao finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against rough wood. Each word seemed to carry a heavy weight, striking the silent air:
"Xingtong...do you...hate me?"
He asked with unusual directness, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, fixed on his son's weak face, not missing the slightest change in expression. He wasn't asking "Does it hurt?" or "Are you afraid?" but rather "Do you hate him?"
They hated this father, who, after his son suffered such inhuman torture and was on the verge of death, not only failed to seek justice for him, but also knelt down before the perpetrator's grandfather in front of everyone, doing everything he could to flatter him, even claiming that the other party "did well."
What a humiliation! What a betrayal! Feng Zhenghao knew all too well the impact of that scene, and he knew all too well the spirit of a young man. He needed to know the answer: what emotions were running through the mind of his son, who had just escaped death.
Feng Xingtong's long eyelashes trembled a few times before she slowly opened her eyes.