Urban Seduction: Housewives Club Chapter 2127 - 448: The Zhang Family Collapses 3

Honestly, Wang Yue's current level of cultivation meant he could waltz into the Zhang manor effortlessly. His sheer might was sufficient to butcher through from the front entrance to the rear exit and escape unscathed.

Truthfully, throughout Tianhai, he stood as virtually invincible—barring Yu Suxin, whose location was anyone's guess at the moment.

Yet the martial realm formed a vast network like a spider's web; tug at one strand, and the entire structure quivers. The Zhang clan held firm membership in the Martial Arts Alliance, whose central base in the Capital boasted multiple Transcendence Realm experts in charge.

Though Wang Yue had disguised himself, hidden truths tend to slip out eventually. Should he unleash his full force and ignite an open slaughter, pursuers would inevitably trace it back, unleashing a torrent of trouble he wasn't ready to face.

He had to adopt a strategy of patience and persistence.

But right when Wang Yue braced for a drawn-out siege, events shifted in an intriguing direction.

During one afternoon outing with Zhou Yifei and the twins, a message arrived from Zhang Hong. His insider within the household reported that Zhang Jianyuan and his son behaved suspiciously. In particular, Zhang Lingtian—the young one—seemed glued to the family vault nowadays, slipping inside and out at odd times.

The informant lacked the access to witness Lingtian's exact actions, but it required no brilliance to detect something foul.

Zhang Hong understood the Family Head deeply. Jianyuan embodied pure opportunism—the type who'd grasp any edge in victory or scramble for survival in defeat. Zhang Hong's hunch? The pair plotted a getaway. Lingtian's constant visits to the storage likely aimed to skim off family valuables bit by bit, avoiding notice from the clan.

To Wang Yue, this intel proved invaluable.

Zhang Jianyuan led the household. His flight—successful or not—would shatter the family's spirit utterly. The Zhangs would crumble like a deck of cards in the wind.

Given their already frayed nerves, Wang Yue chose to pluck the strings a bit sharper to hasten the collapse.

On that night, monitoring devices across several surrounding blocks near the Zhang manor abruptly malfunctioned. Seconds later, a brief, stern-faced youth materialized from nowhere before the primary entrance.

"It’s him!"

The Zhang guards on duty panicked as if encountering a specter. One of the frailer ones collapsed outright, knees buckling in fear. Wasn't this the madman who'd maimed two successors and slain the Third Ancestor?

Had he grown weary of the chase? Was the direct attack commencing now?

"Calm down. I'm not planning a scandal by openly massacring an official Alliance group," Wang Yue stated, gesturing dismissively to ease their fears. Then his face hardened. "However, I'll park myself here and seal this way out until your clan decays from within."

With those words, he blurred and melted into the darkness.

The sentries sagged to the earth, soaked in icy perspiration. The oppressive aura from that man had choked them; its absence now left them exhausted, as after a grueling race.

The report spread through the manor like thunder.

Not even from the guards' alert—the instant Wang Yue showed, he released his complete Level 7 Mortal Shedding aura. It enveloped the whole property like a dense mist. Cultivators of any note sensed the oppressive burden on their lungs, intensifying with their own power.

The Zhang members rushed to the assembly chamber, dread etched on each expression. As they convened, the gate dispatch came in.

"...Ancestor, can we stand a chance?" Zhang Jianyuan voiced the dread all harbored.

The Zhang Ancestor shook his head with a burdened exhale. "None. From that presence, he's no less than late Mortal Shedding Realm. Facing him, I wouldn't survive one strike."

In the nine stages of Mortal Shedding, each level ascends to a fresh realm. Even if the youth lingered at "merely" Level 7, the divide from the Ancestor's Level 5 spanned an abyss. Despite every hidden art and banned elixir available, the Ancestor recognized his utter futility.

The chamber fell into utter hush. A voice broke into quiet cries. "What now? Do we merely wait for death?"

The Ancestor offered no reply. He possessed none.

Oddly, Zhang Jianyuan appeared undaunted. "Keep your composure. He admitted it—he won't risk invading for a bloodbath."

"And? We remain caged in this manor indefinitely?" another retorted sharply. "Even without venturing out, we need food and water!"

Quiet descended once more. Lately, any Zhang venturing beyond had either perished or disappeared. None returned. Deliveries halted. Resources dwindled.

Should this persist, the Zhangs wouldn't fall to blades—they'd succumb to hunger. Elite experts might endure, but the others would fade within weeks.

"The manor holds provisions for several months," Jianyuan declared resolutely. "During that span, we'll appeal to the Martial Arts Alliance. I can't accept they'll ignore this crisis."

The group eased a fraction at his assurance. "We're relying on you, Head."

"Naturally. I'll contact them at once," Jianyuan vowed. He drew his device on the spot and dialed the Tianhai Alliance outpost, detailing the peril and pleading for aid.

The recipient consented with unexpected speed.

Still, the atmosphere barely brightened. The Alliance loomed large as an entity, yet it comprised individuals. And individuals prioritize self-preservation. Within the Alliance too, personal safety came first.

Had the foe been an insignificant foe, the Alliance would invoke "justice" swiftly. But this involved a late Mortal Shedding powerhouse—one of the elite below Transcendence, probably shielded by immense forces.

Would the Alliance hazard challenging such a force merely for the Zhangs? It hung in balance.

The session stretched till midnight before the group parted, burdened by anxiety.

Returning to his secluded chambers, Zhang Jianyuan called for his son, Zhang Lingtian. "Tian, those arrangements I mentioned... what's the status?"

"I've secured most of the prime items," Lingtian updated. "Two more days, and I'll sweep up the remaining valuables without the Ancestor catching on."

"Show me." Jianyuan extended his palm.

Lingtian removed his spatial ring and passed it across. Jianyuan examined it—the ring's inner void matched a large bedroom, brimming almost full. Precious plants, supreme cultivation gems, finely forged arms... this single ring contained roughly 70% of the Zhang clan's movable riches.

With two additional days for Lingtian, they'd depart bearing over 80% of the family's overall fortune.