He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 836 Ye Zhen is angry

"A bunch of useless trash!" Ye Zhen abruptly stood up, the jade pendant at his waist slamming against the table with a sharp crack. His face was ashen, veins throbbing on his forehead, and he sternly ordered his disciples, who stood silently behind him, "Search thoroughly! Don't miss an inch of land! Even if you have to dig three feet into the ground, find traces of the demon race! In particular, check if there are any traces of the dragon race here—scales, aura, or any lingering spiritual energy fluctuations!"

The disciples trembled at his rage, daring not to hesitate for a moment, and immediately scattered like a tidal wave. Some conjured brass compasses, their needles spinning wildly on the surface, emitting a buzzing sound; others brandished rune-encrusted magic swords, their cold light flashing as dense bushes snapped in two, revealing damp, decaying leaves beneath; still others crushed communication talismans to summon more fellow disciples for support. In an instant, the forest was filled with flickering spiritual light, the sounds of footsteps, the crisp clashes of spells, and the buzzing of compasses, all intertwining to shatter the long-standing silence of the mountains and fields.

Ye Zhen stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the corpses of his fellow Ye Xue brothers lying in pools of blood, his eyes surging with overwhelming rage and resentment. The communication talisman had only transmitted a few words, not even specifying the enemy's exact cultivation level; the lead had been cut off! Even worse, this search for the Dragon Ball had been a golden opportunity for him to distinguish himself within the family, but now that the initiative was lost, those collateral branches who had always coveted his position would likely pounce at the scent of blood. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, oblivious to the blood seeping from his bones—no matter what, he couldn't let anyone else seize the initiative!

The surrounding disciples were all working with all their might. Everyone knew that as long as they could find traces of the dragon, or even obtain half a dragon scale, they would make a great contribution to the Ye family, and their status would inevitably rise. They would leap from peripheral disciples to core members and no longer have to depend on others. They searched every rock, explored every cave, and even looked through the water plants by the stream, wishing they could turn the entire mountain upside down.

Ye Zhen stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over his busy disciples, his face still grim. He was waiting, waiting for a result—even the slightest clue would be enough for him to regain the initiative.

Unbeknownst to him, Long Si and Xiao Shuai had already sensed something was wrong the moment Ye Xue crushed the communication talisman. Enduring his injuries, Long Si activated the Dragon Pearl, transforming into a streak of azure-gold light and speeding towards the East China Sea with Xiao Shuai. They were already over a hundred miles away, hidden deep within the rolling mountains, making their search futile.

The sounds of their search through the woods continued, but it was like punching cotton; they hadn't found a single useful clue. Ye Zhen's expression grew increasingly grim, his hand gripping the sword hilt trembling slightly—he had a vague premonition that this time, they were probably truly too late.

On the other side, Xiao Shuai dragged his heavy steps deeper into the mountains. Each step felt like walking on a knife's edge, the pebbles digging painfully into his paws. Blood was still seeping from the wound on his back, the dark red bloodstains soaking half of his fur, sticking stickily to his body. A cold wind blew, making him shiver. The wound on his left arm, where the magical artifact had cut him, burned intensely, as if a ball of fire was burning inside, making it impossible for him to lift his entire arm. He had been seriously injured protecting Long Si during their breakout, his spiritual energy completely depleted, barely able to maintain his human form. His fluffy fox tail dragged on the ground, covered in mud and bits of grass.

The fog in the depths of the forest grew thicker, a hazy white expanse that blurred even the shadows of trees just a few steps ahead. The scent of grass and trees mingled with the earthy stench of soil, and a faint, almost imperceptible odor of blood, making him dizzy. Just as his vision began to blur and his legs trembled, a familiar figure gradually became clear in the fog. It was Xiao Li's mother! He wanted to call out "Auntie," but his throat felt like it was blocked with a hard, dry cotton ball. He barely moved his lips before everything went black. He uttered nothing, his body slumped forward, and he lost consciousness completely.

Xiao Li's mother reacted swiftly, rushing forward to steady his limp body. Her hands found him burning hot—the child had a fever. She then turned to look at Long Si, who was also unconscious beside her, her brows furrowing instantly. Long Si's scales were dull and lifeless, lacking their former luster. A deep, bone-revealing wound on his chest was still oozing black blood with a strange, fishy smell, clearly indicating a serious injury and poisoning. She wasn't familiar with this man, but she had watched the little handsome boy in her arms grow up. His nine fluffy tails drooped listlessly, even the fluffiest white tips were dull and stained with blood, a pitiful sight.

Without a second thought, she called out to the little fox hiding behind a tree not far away, "Come quickly and give me a hand!" The little fox quickly ran out from behind the tree, its face full of anxiety. The mother and son, each supporting one of them, trudged deeper into the dense forest. The little fox's mother knew this mountain like the back of her hand; she knew exactly where the hidden caves were and where the crevices in the rocks offered shelter from the rain. Before long, she found a cave hidden by dense vines. Pushing aside the vines, she crawled inside. Surprisingly, it was dry and sheltered from the wind, with some dry grass piled up in the corner. Together, the two of them carried Xiao Shuai and Long Si into the cave, found some soft dry grass to spread on the ground, and gently placed them on it. Only then did they finally breathe a sigh of relief, a thin layer of sweat beading on their foreheads.

Outside the mountain, time passed day by day, and two days were gone in the blink of an eye. Ye Zhen stood at the foot of the mountain, his face as gloomy as if a storm was about to break. He stared at his dejected subordinates, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger: "How is it? You've searched the entire foot of the mountain these past two days, and still haven't found any trace of those two demons?"

The men all lowered their heads, and one of the bolder ones stammered, "Young Master, the fog in the mountains is too thick, and there are many cliffs and precipices. The brothers have searched for three days and haven't even found a decent set of footprints... Maybe they've already run away far away through the secret passage in the back of the mountain."

Ye Zhen kicked a nearby stone hard, sending it rolling a considerable distance with a thud. He was seething with anger—the various clans had joined forces to capture Long Si, hoping to establish their authority within the clan. Instead, not only had their target escaped, but they had also lost several brothers, making them a laughingstock. Seeing the Ye family's continued inaction, the other clans nearby gradually lost patience and began packing up to leave. An elderly man in a blue robe glanced at Ye Zhen and sneered, "Young Ye, in my opinion, Long Si has probably already led the fox demon deep into the old forest. This place is shrouded in fog and has many forks in the road; lingering here will only be a waste of time. We'll go first; you can do as you please."