Chapter 490
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As soon as the words left his lips, Ye Wushuang’s body shot forward in an instant, arriving before the wall. His palm clenched, and a surge of spiritual energy burst forth. In the blink of an eye, intricate spiritual patterns coalesced and spread across the surface of the wall. As these patterns interwove, the wall before Ye Wushuang began to change, developing thin, jagged cracks.
“Break!” he shouted, and the wall trembled violently. The immense backlash from his attack sent Ye Wushuang flying backward a hundred paces. “Damn it!” he cursed, regaining his footing. Without holding back, he clenched his hands again, and streams of ethereal sword energy converged into a massive ethereal sword, which he unleashed with all his might.
*Boom*…
The wall shook, yet remained as solid as a mountain. Undeterred, Ye Wushuang continued his assault. *Boom… Boom… Boom…* Each impact sent him crashing backward, his body battered and bleeding from the recoil, but he paid no heed to his injuries.
*Boom… Boom… Boom…*
Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the wall exploded. Ye Wushuang, now drenched in blood, stood before a hidden chamber that had been concealed behind the wall. On either side of the chamber were four statues, their bodies gleaming like gold, their eyes a cold, eerie green, exuding an unsettling and terrifying aura.
“Puppets!” Qing Shihua, Qing Shiyu, Wang Kun, and the others’ faces paled as they braced themselves for battle.
Ye Wushuang, however, remained silent. His gaze slowly shifted to the depths of the chamber, where a figure sat calmly inside a wooden barrel. At the sight of this figure, Ye Wushuang’s body trembled.
“It’s our ancestor Yunzhe!” Ye Ming and the others knelt in reverence. The Ye clan had three main branches that had been passed down through the generations: those of Ye Wentian, Ye Fushan, and Ye Yunzhe. They were the descendants of these three lines. After being imprisoned for five hundred years, they had long forgotten which ancestor they truly descended from. But there was no doubt that Ye Yunzhe was one of their forefathers.
Ye Wushuang took a step forward, approaching the figure in the barrel. The distance was so close, yet it felt impossibly far. Finally, he stood before the barrel, looking at the man inside, whose body was soaked in blood and pinned by four iron claws embedded in his shoulder blades. The man was so emaciated, almost skeletal, with prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes. His eye sockets were dark and bruised, his nose reduced to mere skin and bone, and his lips were cracked and bleeding. His entire body was covered in pale, wrinkled skin from being submerged in water for so long.
“Yun… Yunzhe…” Ye Wushuang’s voice trembled involuntarily. “What… what happened to you?”
His voice and hands shook uncontrollably. The Ye Yunzhe of old had been hailed as the most elegant and talented scholar of the Qingyun Empire. But the man before him, withered and wrinkled from the water, bore no resemblance to the Ye Yunzhe he remembered.
“Yunzhe…” Ye Wushuang reached out, his trembling hands cupping Ye Yunzhe’s face as he leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I… I’m your eldest brother. I… I’m back.”
At the mention of “big brother,” the lifeless Ye Yunzhe slowly opened his eyes, as if it took all his strength. His hollow gaze turned to Ye Wushuang, focusing on the young man before him. His expression was dazed, and his voice was barely audible as he murmured, “Brother…”
“It’s me!” Ye Wushuang was so overwhelmed with emotion that he could barely speak coherently. His body shook uncontrollably as he wiped away his tears and smiled through them. “You’re alive. That’s wonderful.”
