Chapter Sixteen: Judgment and Execution

Rejected...

His hand, reaching for the door, halted halfway. The key was still stuck in the lock. This unexpected turn of events froze the pride and ambition that had just begun to swell in the young man’s heart. In its place, a faint bitterness lingered.

A hollow laugh escaped his lips as he staggered a step back, leaning against the railing. He gazed at the door, at the half-inserted key. In that moment, he felt as though he had returned to the past, reliving all those times he had been met with coldness and rejection.

This place was never truly my home...

Once again seized by loneliness, he slowly crouched down, hugging his knees. Suddenly, he felt that it might be better to just leave this house, to run far away and never return. That way, the echoes of those memories could never hurt him again.

Yes, maybe it would be better just to go...

Would it, though? Would it really?

Why did I come back? Was it just to come home? Or to make some grand announcement of my departure? If it were only for myself, nothing would matter...

But... but... but!

That isn’t all there is!

His unfocused gaze sharpened. A wolfish ferocity and focus gradually surfaced. A once-blurred figure grew clearer in his mind. Old wounds were swept away by the wind. Rising to his feet, he stared proudly at the locked door as a new resolve and fire blazed within him.

“Furina.”

“I’m here. What is it?”

“I have a question about my aunt…”

“Guilty. No matter how many times you ask, my answer will not change. Go, follow your heart, and reach for the justice that lies within your grasp.”

“I understand.”

His golden eyes burned with fierce light, his resolve unshakable. He understood himself better than anyone—if it were merely for his own sake, he would run away, no matter how important it was or what it meant to him. That was simply the kind of coward he was.

But!

If this was not just for himself, if he entrusted the right of judgment to someone he trusted, then whatever path lay ahead, he would have the courage to walk it to the end.

The Water Deity of that other world had already pronounced judgment.

The road ahead was clear.

This was not just vengeance, but judgment—justice itself, spoken through the god of justice. And he, both avenger and executor, would carry it out.

“Transform.”

Grasping the key again, Lu Mingfei invoked his words of power. The sturdy aluminum alloy key changed shape, perfectly fitting the new lock.

He drove it in to the hilt.

A crisp click rang out as the door opened. Bathed in the dusky evening light, the golden-eyed youth stood tall like a king. He gazed into the house at the cowering sinner, as though looking at rebellious vassals of old.

With a step, the sovereign entered. He no longer bowed his head or stooped to tidy others’ shoes, nor cleaned away the mud. He strode in, muddy shoes and all, heedless of the stains he left behind. Hot blood surged in his chest; his heart blazed like fire.

In the shadows, the little devil holding an umbrella stared at Lu Mingfei in astonishment, unable to fathom how such a transformation had occurred in an instant, how he had found such unwavering resolve.

Never had he shone with such pride.

“Lu… Lu Mingfei, what are you going to do?” his aunt stammered, curled up beside the sofa. Ever since returning from the hospital, she had been living in terror. Those golden eyes had become her nightmare—she no longer had the courage to meet their gaze.

“Lu… Lu Mingfei, your aunt may have wronged you in the past, but at least she took care of you all these years…” his uncle stood protectively before her, his slight frame blocking the golden gaze. In the shadows, his aunt stared blankly.

“Took care of me?” Lu Mingfei stepped forward, glaring at the quibbling sinner. A heavier spiritual pressure pressed down, making both his uncle and aunt struggle for breath.

If his uncle hadn’t spoken, perhaps it would have been better. But those words only made Lu Mingfei recall the days spent under his aunt’s shadow: he had had no pride, no foundation, living like a weed—trampled, unnoticed, and forced to adapt.

Was that care? Could that even be called raising a child?

With the money his parents left, even a total stranger would have done better than her!

His uncle, half-kneeling, let out a strangled groan. Yet, even so, he stood steadfastly before his wife, protecting her like a man should.

Faced with Lu Mingfei’s questioning, he had no answer. He had wanted to be kinder to Lu Mingfei, but his position in the family was too low. Even the slightest gesture of help would be crushed by a look from his wife, and any small kindness would only earn her loud rebuke.

So, in the end, although he wished to treat Lu Mingfei better, nothing in the boy’s life had truly changed.

“Why are you shielding that shrew? Haven’t you been scolded enough by her?” Lu Mingfei demanded.

In the shadow of his small frame, his aunt trembled, hugging herself. She was truly afraid now, deeply regretting all she had ever done. How she wished she could go back, treat Lu Mingfei better, treat her husband better.

Instinctively, she reached out, clutching her husband’s sleeve as tears streamed from her eyes.

His uncle clenched his teeth and lifted his head, meeting Lu Mingfei’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “A shrew? She is my wife!”

Wife...

Such a simple word, yet it carried immense responsibility. Only a man who bore that burden unflinchingly could be called a real man.

Those resolute words struck something deep within Lu Mingfei. He remembered the uncle who had seemed as downcast as himself, often scolded by his aunt, yet always showing a timid but genuine kindness. The oppressive aura around Lu Mingfei began to fade.

As the pressure lessened, his aunt felt a little safer. She summoned her courage, pushed her husband aside, and shouted, “Whatever happened, it was all my doing! If you want to blame someone, blame me! He’s useless—he can’t do anything!”

Lu Mingfei looked at their faces, and confusion crept into his heart. He was supposed to be the victim, the one fighting for his own justice.

So why did these people act like they were the ones suffering? Why couldn’t he harden his heart and mete out the punishment they deserved?

“Brother, you seem troubled.”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. The little devil entered the house and stood by Lu Mingfei’s side, watching the uncle and aunt struggle.

“Trouble is meaningless. Judgment must be carried out,” Lu Mingfei murmured.

“Judgment, is it?” The little devil smiled, turned to Lu Mingfei, and asked, “How about this, brother? Why not let me handle the dirty work for you? I promise you won’t be troubled any further.”