Heaven-Dominating Martial Emperor

In the end, Ye Chen subdued the Luo Race without much effort.

He chose not to annihilate them, partly because he wasn’t someone who enjoyed slaughtering the innocent.

And partly because he and Qing Lian had discussed the matter on their way to the Luo Race.

Given the White Tiger Tribe’s current strength, a gradual rise to power would take a considerable amount of time.

The Luo Race was a third-rate power, but if their leadership was eliminated, the remaining members would still constitute a force not to be underestimated.

If the White Tiger Tribe could bring them under their control, it would be an unexpectedly wonderful gain.

Moreover, with the Liuyue Sect now annihilated by an unknown force, the unprotected White Tiger Tribe desperately needed more strength to defend itself.

Thus, Ye Chen and Qing Lian had agreed that their primary goal in dealing with the Luo Race was subjugation.

If the Luo Race refused to submit, even in the face of death, it wouldn’t be too late to eliminate them then.

After all, the fact that these people had captured members of the Vermilion Bird Tribe had already ignited Ye Chen’s killing intent.

He had only survived the past two months thanks to the Vermilion Bird Tribe taking him in. For these people to dare and lay a hand on them… Ye Chen had no intention of letting them off lightly, for reasons both personal and just.

Had it truly come to annihilation, Ye Chen would not have shown a shred of mercy.

Fortunately, after he dealt with the Mountain Dweller, the remaining members of the Luo Race were already scared out of their wits.

They submitted quickly, not daring to entertain a single thought of opposing him.

This saved Ye Chen a great deal of trouble.

After rescuing the members of the Vermilion Bird Tribe, he was prepared to leave at once.

But Qing Lian urged him to stay. “Your tribesmen were just rescued from the dungeons. They’re still injured. If you set out on the road so soon, I’m afraid you’ll only aggravate their wounds.”

“For one, it will slow your pace. For another, without proper rest, their injuries will only worsen.”

“You would be better off recuperating in our tribe for a few days.”

“It’s a lot of people to host, but after all the help you’ve given our tribe, I doubt anyone would dare to object.”

“Besides, all of the Luo Race’s resources are ours now. You can take some with you when you leave.”

Hearing this, Ye Chen thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Very well. We’ll stay a few more days.”

Qing Lian was right.

They had only just rescued everyone; rushing to leave now was indeed too hasty.

In the end, the entire party returned to the White Tiger Tribe’s encampment.

When Zhao Tiankuo saw Ye Chen return victorious, he was overjoyed and gave him a thumbs-up. “As expected of our son-in-law! You actually managed to rescue them!”

“You can’t even imagine how incredible Fellow Daoist Ye Chen was!”

Qing Lian said with a smile, proceeding to recount the events that had transpired.

They learned how Ye Chen had charged into the Luo Race’s camp virtually alone, how he had slain their strongest warriors, and how he had even cut down the Mountain Dweller who had arrived as reinforcements.

Everyone gasped, finding it all too incredible to believe—like a tale from the Arabian Nights.

It wasn’t until the White Tiger Tribe’s old Clan Leader weakly confirmed Qing Lian’s account that the crowd erupted in gasps of amazement.

No matter how unbelievable they found it, both the old Clan Leader and Priest Qing Lian—the two most respected figures in the tribe—had confirmed it. In the end, they had no choice but to accept it as fact.

Soon, a victory banquet was underway in the White Tiger Tribe’s camp.

Upon learning that the members of the Vermilion Bird Tribe would be staying for a few more days, the people of the White Tiger Tribe didn’t object in the slightest. On the contrary, they welcomed them with great enthusiasm.

This was especially true for Ye Chen.

Everyone knew he was the greatest contributor to their victory.

The White Tiger Tribe was desperate to curry favor with such a powerful figure; how could they possibly let him go so soon?

At the banquet, watching group after group of White Tiger tribespeople crowd around Ye Chen to offer toasts, Zhao Tiankuo couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

‘Seeing how popular the son-in-law is,’ he thought, ‘I’m starting to worry he’ll get so comfortable here he’ll forget all about going home. What if he decides to stay and recover in the White Tiger Tribe and never returns to the Vermilion Bird Tribe?’

Especially with the young and beautiful Priest Qing Lian around.

Her status in the tribe was normally so transcendent that the men felt unworthy just seeing her from a distance.

Yet here she was, sitting right beside Ye Chen—so close—and repeatedly raising her cup to toast him.

Before long, a pair of intoxicating, rosy blushes appeared on her exquisite face, adding a touch of seductive charm to her already stunning beauty.

Zhao Tiankuo knew perfectly well that Priest Qing Lian had never been this close to any young man in the tribe before.

‘They say even the greatest hero is helpless before a beautiful woman,’ he mused, ‘but isn’t it also true that a beauty can’t help but be captivated by a hero’s valor?’

‘If someone told me Qing Lian wasn’t interested in Ye Chen, I wouldn’t believe them for a second.’

‘I’m worried our son-in-law will actually be captivated by Priest Qing Lian’s beauty and forget about his wife, who’s waiting for him back at the tribe.’

“Here, Fellow Daoist… I… I’ll toast you again!”

“This time… It’s all thanks to you… If it weren’t for you, we really wouldn’t have known how to stand against the Luo Race…”

Qing Lian struggled to stay composed, forcing herself to raise her cup.

But a moment later, her delicate frame swayed, and a good portion of the wine spilled, splashing the front of her dress.

“You’re already this drunk. You should stop drinking.”

Ye Chen glanced at her. “Tomorrow you have to lead your people to the Luo Race’s camp and officially absorb them into your tribe. How are you going to manage that in this state?”

“It’s fine…”

“At worst… we can just go a day later! It’s not like it’s too late!”

Qing Lian said drunkenly as she leaned her entire body against Ye Chen’s shoulder. Her luscious lips drew close to his ear, her breath as fragrant as an orchid as she whispered, “Fellow Daoist… why don’t you stay?”

By now, most of the people at the banquet were quite drunk, lost in their own revelry. No one noticed the hushed conversation between Qing Lian and Ye Chen.

Ye Chen’s expression faltered. “Stay?”

“That’s right…”

“Stay… Our tribe… needs you…”

“I… I need you, too…”

Qing Lian’s voice was fragmented and indistinct, but this only added a layer of intimacy to her words.

Ye Chen set down his cup, saying nothing.

“Will you… will you help me back to my room…?”

Qing Lian continued to press herself against him. Her voice, usually as crisp and clear as a songbird’s call, was now soft and weak, filled with a helplessness that could stir a strange impulse in anyone’s heart.

Ye Chen took a deep breath.

He struggled to calm himself.

But a thread of heat coursed through his veins, spreading throughout his entire body.

Feeling the warm, jade-smooth body pressed against his side, Ye Chen was on the verge of losing control.