If I slapped you, do you think I should?
If this gets out, you'd be branded as ungrateful, biting the hand that fed you.
That reputation wouldn't just fall on you—people would slap it on all Red Foxes."
Scarface Hu only now realized what was really going on, his fur bristling all over.
"This... this... this..."
Scarface Hu hurriedly scrambled up, dragging his broken leg to kneel on the ground, smacking himself hard across the face over and over.
"Auntie, you hit right, you hit good, just stay seated, I'll do it myself."
Scarface Hu really went in ruthless—just a few slaps, and his own face was swollen.
He was breaking out in a cold sweat, replaying everything that'd happened these last few days in his mind.
Now he understood why soone reached out to him.
Because he was a Fire Fox among the Red Foxes, he was a fox, after all.
If he stood up and said sothing like other demons, it would be a totally different story.
Even if, on the surface, it didn't look like he'd played a big part in these events.
But as long as he was present, it gave people the excuse to say other foxes were also pissed at Wen Yan's arrogance.
Granny Fox was right—anyone can talk trash about Wen Yan, but the Red Foxes? They have to stand firm on Wen Yan's side. Even being neutral isn't enough.
Because all this started over a little Red Fox.
Granny Fox looked at Scarface Hu, kneeling there, smacking himself silly. She sighed—her nephew might not be the sharpest, but at least when he ssed up, he owned it, took his punishnt, and he actually had so backbone.
"Use your damn brain. People always say foxes are sly and cunning—you, on the other hand, I can't see an ounce of cunning in you.
Have you been listening to so idiots whispering crap in your ear?
Did you hear Wen Yan went and killed five Great Demons, and you thought he was getting too cocky?
Then did you ever wonder why the Divine Beast guarding Wudang's gate got killed?
Why even the so-called gentle Great Demon from Qingcheng, who's been ditating for decades, got killed?
Why is it Wudang and Qingcheng, till now, haven't said a single damned word?
Do you even know when Wen Yan went to the White Fox Clan Territory this ti—
Not just people from Fuyu Mountain went, but even Wudang and Qingcheng sent two disciples, sa generation as their Sect Masters, to help out.
Even if you don't know the details, you gotta know what that ans, right?
Did you know that Wudang's Sect Leader's junior brother, when he got back, kept saying Wen Yan's nothing like the Fuyu Mountain folks?
Because Wen Yan isn't the least bit domineering—compared to the others from Fuyu Mountain, he's downright gentle.
You don't think they were just being polite, do you?
And think about it—Wen Yan isn't even actually a mber of the Scorching Sun Departnt. How co he gets their full support?
Since yesterday, several highways near Old Linzi have been closed off for blizzards—any idea why?
Get your head on straight. Don't know the inside scoop? Then watch, listen, and think for yourself.
Don't just hear sothing and charge in like a dumbass.
Now do you know why I'm here?"
Scarface Hu had slapped himself so hard he was bleeding. Hearing this, he instantly kowtowed twice, banging his head so hard he cracked the blue stone tiles under him.
"Thank you, Auntie, for saving my sorry ass."
"If you weren't my nephew, and at least willing to admit you ssed up, I wouldn't have bothered."
Saying this, Granny Fox waved her cane and cracked Scarface Hu's other leg.
But getting his leg broken, Scarface Hu actually felt relieved.
He really didn't know the whole story, but with his aunt breaking it down and spoon-feeding it to him, he understood what those surface events really ant underneath.
Bottom line? Those dead Great Demons deserved it. Wen Yan's a good guy, didn't say a word, actually saved face for both Wudang and Qingcheng while taking all the bla himself.
As for those damned White Foxes? Screw them, they got what was coming.
Good thing he didn't know the real story earlier; otherwise, he'd have gone over there himself, no matter what anyone said.
Now he got it—Wen Yan's pissed sobody off, so demon or... other race is pulling strings, trying to trick half-wits into making trouble.
Granny Fox reached out and caught Scarface Hu's hand, which was still smacking his own face.
"Wasn't a waste making this trip. What you need to do next, you damn well know—if you still need to teach you, just get lost and don't embarrass yourself anymore."
"I got it, Auntie."
Right then, Scarface Hu's phone rang—he didn't move.
Granny Fox glanced at him.
"Pick up your phone."
Scarface Hu looked—it was a video call.
He answered, and on the screen it was already night, distant firelight flickering, and deafening explosions booming over the airwaves.
"Eighteenth Brother, sothing huge just happened!"
"What?"
"Scorching Sun Departnt is shelling the Old Demon King's Lair!"
Scarface Hu's face showed utter shock. He could see everything clearly on screen, which ant this ti, Scorching Sun Departnt hadn't even bothered with a signal block.
He saw fire blazing sky-high on the screen; looking closer, so parts of the forest had been cleared ahead of ti—the firebreaks were all set up in advance.
He could just make out a big bird, flapping its wings as it flew up out of the fire-covered area.
But in the blink of an eye, he saw a barrage of tracer rounds weaving a net in mid-air.
That big bird, barely airborne and not even up to speed, was torn to pieces in an instant.
Scarface Hu felt his scalp go numb—when did tracer rounds start giving people this dense, overwhelming feeling?
In other words, besides those tracers, there had to be several tis as much regular ammo too.
He vaguely rembered that black bird—wingspan, maybe four or five ters tops. Did they need to shoot it down like a fighter jet?
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