Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

The cold wind swirled withered leaves, making a piercing sound as it cut through the dense forest, like countless tiny blades scraping against bare flesh.

Iron Face supported Ruthless as the two staggered through the intertwined branches, each step accompanied by a suppressed groan.

Ruthless leaned against Iron Face's shoulder, his eyes tightly closed, his face pale to the point of being almost transparent. The stray hairs on his forehead were soaked with cold sweat and clung tightly to his skin. The rise and fall of his chest was weak and sluggish. Although Mo Yun's icy energy that sealed his meridians was not fatal, it invaded his meridians like a leech, causing the chaotic energy around his body to boil like water, scalding his internal organs and making it as difficult as ascending to heaven to mobilize even a trace of chaos.

"Hold on, we'll reach the border post of Duzong in another half hour."

Iron Face gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, the muscles in his neck tense with effort. He had to steady his swaying body while firmly supporting Ruthless's weight; his rough palms were already stained dark red by the wound on Ruthless's shoulder, and his voice was hoarse and almost incoherent, yet it still carried a hint of the authority of a Grand Commander.

"With me here, I will never let anything happen to you."

He could clearly feel that the oppressive aura belonging to Mo Yun behind him, like the pressure of the heavens, had long since dissipated in the forest, but the chill in his heart had not diminished at all; on the contrary, it had become more intense as his injuries worsened.

The feeling of helplessness he had when facing Mo Yun in the cold forest, a feeling of being unable to even resist, was like an airtight net, tightly wrapping around his heart and refusing to leave.

Just as the two cats were struggling through a forest of dead trees, Ruthless suddenly opened his eyes.

There was no emotional fluctuation in those deep eyes, only extreme shock, like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating towering waves.

He even forgot the excruciating pain in his chest, abruptly raising his hand, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably, pointing towards the horizon where the cult was located. A suppressed roar escaped his throat, his voice as dry as two stones rubbing together:

"It's...it's the scent of purification!"

Iron Face froze, instinctively stopping in his tracks and looking in the direction he was pointing.

At the edge of the sky, a gentle yet penetrating icy aura permeated the area around the sect. Like a silent tide, the power spread and swelled with overwhelming force. Wherever it passed, the nauseating, chaotic, and rotten smell that had been lingering in the air vanished without a trace in just a few breaths, leaving only the freshness of the grass and trees and the purity of the aura.

"This...this is impossible!"

Iron Mask's pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints, and the color drained from his face instantly, even his lips turned bluish-black.

Although he was not a member of the Pan Sect, he had worked with Wuqing for many years and was very familiar with the concentration of chaos within the Pan Sect's territory. It was the core stronghold of chaos that Lord An had spent decades building up in the Pan Sect. Not only were infected people scattered throughout the sect, but there were also three altars specifically used to nourish the chaos, producing chaotic power day and night, which had long since turned the Pan Sect into a chaotic fortress as solid as a copper wall.

How could such a massive chaotic force, with such a deeply rooted chaotic foundation, possibly be...?

"It's ink rhyme..."

His ruthless voice trembled slightly, his eyes stared blankly in the direction of the traitorous sect in the distance, his face still displaying an almost expressionless indifference. But upon closer inspection, one could see the despair and resentment surging deep within his eyes, almost threatening to engulf him.

He was the sect leader of the Judgement Sect, having ruled for decades. He knew every inch of the sect's land and every trace of its energy intimately, even able to clearly sense the chaotic fluctuations within each disciple's body. At this moment, wherever that icy power reached, he could precisely "see":

The Chaos Altar of the Pan Sect collapsed instantly. The chaotic aura within the elders and disciples who had been deeply corrupted by chaos was completely purified before they even had a chance to struggle, just like ice and snow meeting the scorching sun. Even the dungeon deep within the sect, which had been soaked in chaos for a hundred years and used to imprison "heretics," was instantly restored to clarity.

With a mere wave of his hand, he purified the entire sect of scum?

This realization struck them like a red-hot hammer.

Iron Face felt a sudden dizziness, and the withered leaves under his feet made a crisp "crack" sound, almost causing him to lose his balance.

He originally thought that although Mo Yun was strong, he would still need to spend a lot of effort and set up a great formation to purify the chaos of a sect. But he never expected that the opponent would be so strong. It was not a simple crushing of strength, but a dimensional reduction attack. It was a height that they, the "outcasts" who relied on chaos for nourishment and wandered in the darkness, could never reach.

Ruthless slowly closed his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a very faint shadow under his eyelids, concealing all the emotions in his eyes.

The next second, a trickle of dark red blood uncontrollably spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin and landing on the withered leaves at his feet, leaving a small, dark stain.

The sect he had built up over his entire life, the chaotic power he relied on and was proud of, the foundation to which he had given everything, all vanished in the blink of an eye with Mo Yun's gesture.

This despair of falling from the clouds to the bottom, with no room for resistance, was more unbearable for him than the physical pain, yet it still couldn't leave many obvious marks on his expressionless face. Only his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed the turmoil in his heart.

"The traitorous sect... is gone."

He murmured softly, his voice as light as a breeze, yet carrying a broken, powerless quality, as if all his strength had been drained away.

Iron Face supported him, his throat felt like it was blocked by something, and he couldn't say a word for a long time.

He finally understood that when he threatened Tang Ming's life in the cold forest, Mo Yun's completely indifferent attitude was not a pretense or deliberate forbearance, but a genuine disdain—in front of such a powerful person, all their schemes, all their reliance, and all their trump cards were nothing more than toys in a child's hands, laughable and pathetic.

The two stood silently in the cold wind, the shadows of the withered tree stretched long in the twilight, much like their precarious situation.

The wind swirled the withered leaves around their feet, making a "whooshing" sound, like a soft sob.

"What should we do now?"

Iron Face broke the silence first, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible bewilderment.

The sect was destroyed, and they were seriously injured. The road ahead seemed to be shrouded in thick fog, with no light in sight.

As the leader of the sect, he was always decisive and authoritative, but at this moment, faced with Mo Yun's unfathomable strength, he was at a loss.

Ruthless slowly opened his eyes, the despair in them receding like the tide, replaced by a cold light that was almost ruthless. He still had that expressionless look, but now he had a more resolute air about him.

He took a deep breath, the sharp pain in his chest causing him to hunch slightly, but he still forcibly suppressed the chaotic energy and dynamism within his body, his voice hoarse yet carrying an undeniable resolve:

"Go back to Du Sect."

"Return to the Du Sect?"

Iron Face was taken aback, his brows furrowing deeply, his stern face filled with confusion and worry.

“But Mo Yun… he could come after us at any moment. We are now seriously injured and our meridians are blocked, so we are powerless to resist. Wouldn’t going back be like walking into a trap? Why don’t we change our course immediately and go to the Shadowy Valley to ask Lord An for help? With Lord An there, he can keep Mo Yun in check.”

"Ask for help?"

He gave a cold, ruthless laugh, a laugh filled with self-mockery, yet his expression remained blank, only a slight, chilling curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Do you think Lord An can withstand Mo Yun? You felt that purifying power just now. It was a power that touched the barrier of the world. It is a power that has surpassed ordinary Peking Opera Cats. Lord An may not have such ability."

He paused, his gaze sharpening, like two cold knives, fixed on the distance:

"Moreover, the journey to the Gloomy Valley is long and will take at least seven days. We are badly injured and can barely walk. We may not be able to make it there. Even if we do manage to reach it, do you think Lord An will come to our aid?"

The cold voice was flat, yet every word pierced the heart:

"He has always only valued exploitation. Now that we have lost the traitorous sect and the Chaos stronghold, we have become worthless pawns."

He won't save us; he might even sacrifice us to appease Mo Yun and secure his own safety.

Ruthless didn't finish his sentence, but Iron Face already understood.

They had long been aware of Lord An's ruthlessness; countless pawns had been sacrificed by him over the years for the cause of Chaos, and they were no exception.

“But if we return to the Emperor, we are nothing more than lambs to the slaughter.”

The iron-faced man's voice carried a hint of bitterness, and his imposing aura weakened somewhat.

Although Du Zong had defenses, he couldn't stop a powerful figure like Mo Yun.

"not necessarily."

Iron Face's eyes suddenly sharpened, his grip on Ruthless's hand tightened, and an aura of authority instantly returned to him, his tone gaining more confidence.

"Don't forget, we still have two trump cards! One is Tang Ming. That old bastard is still imprisoned deep within the chaotic barrier of the Black Rock Cave. Xiao Qing, who is by Mo Yun's side, is his disciple whom he personally taught. She respects him greatly and treats him like her own father. As long as Tang Ming is in our hands, even if Mo Yun doesn't care, Xiao Qing and the others will never dare to act rashly! If they want to rescue Tang Ming, they must be hesitant to act, and that is our biggest constraint!"

These words were like a shot of adrenaline, brightening Wuqing's gloomy eyes.

He almost forgot that Tang Ming was not only an important force in the fight against Chaos, but also the key to restraining Xiao Qing and the others. Mo Yun may be fearless and carefree, but those little guys are ultimately loyal and righteous, which is their only weakness.

"Secondly, there are the three great magical artifacts of the Du Sect!"

Iron Face continued, his voice firm and resolute, carrying an undeniable confidence.

"The Prison-Suppressing Bell, the Soul-Locking Chain, and the Judgment Pen—these three are the supreme treasures passed down through the Du Sect for thousands of years. When activated together, they can form the 'Three Realms Demon-Suppressing Array.' This array cannot even penetrate the Chaos Realm, and it can also temporarily suppress high-level spiritual energy. Even a powerful figure like Mo Yun would have his strength weakened by more than half if he were trapped within it!"

He paused, his tone becoming increasingly firm:

“We’ll return to the Du Sect, first using secret medicine to stabilize our injuries, then dispatch our trusted disciples and deploy the three great magical artifacts for defense. Mo Yun, wanting to rescue Tang Ming, will inevitably go to the Black Rock Cave first. We still have time to make thorough preparations before they rescue Tang Ming. Even if Mo Yun does come after us, with the ‘Three Realms Demon Suppression Formation’ to restrain us, plus Tang Ming as a bargaining chip, we might not be without a fighting chance, and perhaps… we might even find a weakness in him and turn the tide!”

Wuqing remained silent for a moment, his face still expressionless, and he simply nodded slowly.

Iron Face was right. Tang Ming and the three great magical artifacts were their only remaining reliance at this moment.

With the ancestral temple destroyed, they had no way out but to return to the ancestral temple and fight to the death for a chance of survival.

"it is good."

Ruthless, leaning against a withered tree beside him, slowly straightened up. Although his body was still swaying, and the veins on his arms were bulging from the effort, his eyes grew increasingly resolute.

"Report back to the sect leader. Use Tang Ming to restrain Xiao Qing and the others, deploy the three great magical artifacts for defense, conserve your strength, and wait for the right opportunity."

He looked up towards the direction of the Black Rock Cave, a fleeting, sinister glint in his eyes, too quick to catch, before returning to his usual cold indifference.

“If Mo Yun wants to save Tang Ming, she will definitely go to Black Rock Cave. Let’s speed up and return to Du Zong before they rescue Tang Ming.”

He nodded firmly, his bewilderment and unease gradually replaced by resolve.

He helped Wuqing up again, and the two of them supported each other as they walked towards Duzong's direction.

Their steps were still faltering, each one incredibly difficult, yet they possessed a greater sense of determination than before—even if the road ahead was fraught with peril, even if their opponents were top-tier powerhouses who had touched the world's barriers, they would hold onto their last remaining cards and make a final struggle in this destined-to-be-difficult game.

The cold wind was still biting, rustling the withered leaves and swirling up the blood droplets on the ground, which then dissipated in the forest.

In the distance, the silhouette of Du Zong was faintly visible in the twilight, like a lurking beast, waiting for its master to return, and also for the impending storm that would shake the entire world of Peking Opera Cats.

Meanwhile, in the direction of Black Rock Cave, Mo Yun and the others were marching with firm steps toward their goal of rescuing Tang Ming. The fates of the two groups were once again inextricably intertwined, and an even greater conflict was quietly brewing.