Chapter 1378 - 1006: My Name Is Wang Ye

Zhang Chen watched the back of the young boy, a hint of curiosity in his eyes: "Does the Demon Race even have child labor?"

"You jest, sir. The Demon Race doesn’t keep idlers! The Demon Master has stated that no children under fourteen are to be eaten, but we can’t just raise them for free, can we? So we have them do some work to support themselves, and in doing so they strengthen their muscles. Later, when eaten, their flesh is firm yet chewy, crispy and delicious," explained the Lion Spirit steward standing nearby, ingratiatingly joining the conversation after overhearing Zhang Chen’s mutterings.

Zhang Chen glanced at the smiling, sycophantically bowing Lion Spirit, somewhat surprised by the cunning plans of these beasts. Faced with the Lion Spirit’s ingratiating grin, Zhang Chen scornfully covered his nose and barked: "You reek! Keep away from me!"

The Lion Spirit wasn’t offended, but instead retreated while continuously bowing to Zhang Chen, his smile full of flattery and humility.

Zhang Chen couldn’t be bothered with him; after all, he was just a beast and didn’t merit much attention. As he was in a position of power, he had the privilege to disregard him.

The Demon Race is also divided into different classes, much like the human hierarchical order, but due to their beastly nature, the order is much more brutal and clearly defined.

Zhang Chen looked toward the distant slaves, his mind filled with thoughts as he awaited the supply delivery, when suddenly he heard heart-wrenching cries: "Don’t hit my father! I’m begging you, please don’t hit my father!"

Turning his head at the sound, Zhang Chen saw rice scattered on the deck and a man sitting on the ground, blood streaming from his forehead, staining the wooden ship. A Demon Race steward holding a large club struck the man’s head on the rice-covered deck, causing him to grimace in pain, his vision blurred by dizziness and blood. He tried to get up, but the dizziness was too overpowering, rendering him unable to rise.

The ’child laborer,’ previously seen by Zhang Chen, was now draping himself over the man, using his frail body to shield him. Yet the Demon Race steward ignored him, raining blows on him with the club: "You damn two-legged sheep, do you know how valuable that rice is? Even if you two sacrificed your heads, it wouldn’t repay the price of a bag of rice. And you mischievous brat, daring to obstruct me—you must not care for your life! Though the Demon Master said not to slaughter humans under fourteen, if you wish for death, I won’t be held accountable when I beat you to death. It’ll be a perfect way to satiate our hunger."

The club struck the boy mercilessly, bones fracturing audibly, clearly aiming to kill, while the surrounding demons watched eagerly, waiting for the boy to die so they could fall upon him and dismember him. After all, old man’s flesh was tough and sour, the adult man’s bones too hard, only the young boy’s flesh was crunchy and flavorful, eating it was quite pleasurable.

A heartrending scream escaped the boy, drawing the gaze of those on the ship, Zhang Chen’s expression instantly turning icy as he sternly shouted: "Enough!"

Silence fell upon the ship, the demon beasts halting their actions, knowing the ship was under the protection of Hu Li the Immortal, and Zhang Chen, as the owner of the fleet, must hold an extremely noble status. He had Hu Li the Immortal’s fur, symbolizing the immortal’s worldly incarnation.

Zhang Chen’s reprimand made the steward crawl up in an abject manner, and he immediately knelt before Zhang Chen: "Forgive me, sir! The damn two-legged sheep dirtied your ship, please pardon us!"

With the steward’s kneeling, all demon beast stewards and slaves followed suit, their eyes filled with helplessness and fear. To the Demon Race, the anger of the upper class implied a mortal crisis.

Just like a fierce tiger’s anger, how could lambs not fear or tremble?

Only the boy with broken bones, now forcibly crawling to the man bleeding on the deck, kept calling ’father,’ his voice sorrowful and piercing, alarming the nearby demon beast steward. Fearing Zhang Chen’s wrath might be stirred by the boy’s crying, he quickly pinned the boy down, smothering his mouth, intent on suffocating him.

Zhang Chen glanced at the struggling boy, perceiving his eighteen fractured bones, and his expression softened. How could he endure such pain and continue to crawl, a testament to his determination?

He gestured for the demon beast to release the boy, who collapsed on the ground, limbs contorted in bizarre shapes, trying to rise but unable to command his broken limbs, resorting to wriggling like a maggot, eventually using his chin to bump the man’s chest.

Zhang Chen ignored the prostrated demon beast, approaching the kneeling boy, looking at the man in the blood pool, he sighed gently: "Stop calling, he’s already dead!"

The boy froze, as if struck by Thunder, his cries halting.

"Clean the deck properly, or I’ll strip off your pelts and use them to scrub my deck," Zhang Chen declared as he turned to leave. A sinister grin spread across the demon beasts’ faces, eyes fixed on the boy in blood, as the steward raised his club and moved toward the boy, murder in his eyes.

But as Zhang Chen stepped forward, his clothing was tugged, turning around he saw the boy biting the hem of his attire, stopping his advance.

"Please! I’m begging you, help me!" the boy pleaded, his words distorted by the tight grip on the fabric, his face begging as he looked at Zhang Chen.

He understood the demon beasts had murderous intent, having shattered his limbs and ribs, death awaited him on the dining table, yet now here was this imposing young man, whom the demon beasts feared, he seemed his only hope for survival.

The boy bit Zhang Chen’s hem tightly, staining his clothes with bloodstains, frightening the demon beasts who witnessed the offense against Zhang Chen. Fearing repercussions, they scrambled to remove the boy, but Zhang Chen waved them away, gazing down at the blood-stained boy and sighed gently. The boy’s pleas, muddled by the cloth, were mere whimpers, but Zhang Chen, versed in the Law of Sound, discerned the meaning.

"Let the boy stay, take him to my quarters," Zhang Chen instructed.

The boy’s tears fell upon hearing this, releasing his grip before his eyes rolled back as he fainted.

The demon race stewards knelt before Zhang Chen, relieved he wasn’t furious for the disturbance, eyes filled with the joy of narrowly escaping ruin. They scurried to clean the bloodstains and, alongside the ship’s steward, carried the boy into Zhang Chen’s cabin.

In the distance, Zhou Qiucheng, Zhong Wubai, and others watched this scene, all with flickering eyes, but they did not speak.

Zhang Chen entered the room and looked at the young man tossed on the ground like a dead dog. Relying on his Blood Dao Cultivation, he instantly sensed the young man’s injuries clearly; the young man’s limbs were broken, and his ribs, shin bones, and more were all fractured. An ordinary person would have been in too much pain to move and would have fainted, yet this young man persisted.

"Why did you decide to save him? I thought you would just stand by and watch?" Ji Feihua appeared at the cabin door, looking at Zhang Chen with curiosity.

"Why do you think that way?" Zhang Chen asked.

"You are a major strategist; even the lives of billions do not concern you. The fact that you spoke up for a dying young man breaks the impression everyone has of you." Ji Feihua asked with full curiosity.

"Self-help leads to divine aid!" Zhang Chen said flatly, his voice filled with a sigh: "Among tens of thousands on the vessel carrying goods, all chose to follow destiny, while this young man thought instead of defiance and self-rescue. He is not like the others."

Ji Feihua didn’t understand. How could people be categorized differently when they are all human?

Zhang Chen didn’t continue to explain to Ji Feihua. In Zhang Chen’s eyes, only those who defy and refuse to follow destiny can truly be considered human. Those who are numb and merely survive become completely obedient machines, lacking any value in saving.

Zhang Chen flicked the Three Lights Divine Water from his fingertips, sending it into the young man’s body. The next moment, a colorful light shot out from the young man, and all his injuries were completely healed.

"What kind of treasure is this, to possess such divine effects?" Ji Feihua noticed the rich Vitality remaining in the air and asked with astonishment.

Hearing Ji Feihua’s question, Zhang Chen replied: "It is the Three Lights Divine Water."

"The legendary Supreme Treasure that can pull the dead back to life and restore flesh from bone?" Ji Feihua asked with curiosity.

Zhang Chen nodded: "That’s correct!"

The Three Lights Divine Water is renowned in this world, and its name resonates loudly.

Upon hearing those words, Ji Feihua gasped: "You truly are generous."

Zhang Chen did not reply but turned to look at the young man on the ground. The young man flipped up, scanned the cabin, saw Zhang Chen, and hurriedly got up, respectfully saluting: "Greetings to my benefactor."

"What is your name?" Zhang Chen looked at the young man and asked: "Judging by your articulate speech, you don’t seem like a child of ordinary folk."

The young man answered respectfully: "I am Wang Ye. My mother once told me I originally belonged to the Shen Family in Jinling, but later met calamity."

Hearing this, Zhang Chen’s brows furrowed slightly: The Shen Family of Jinling? What a small world!

"What is your mother’s name?" Zhang Chen asked again.

"My mother is called Wang Xifeng," the young man replied.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Chen’s pupils constricted, studying the young man before him. If he remembered correctly, Wang Xifeng seemed to be pregnant when they parted ways. At that time, Wang Xifeng only had one son, Shen Qiu, and hadn’t heard of another son?

What’s most crucial is that the age doesn’t match!

Zhang Chen evaluated Wang Ye, approximately four to five years old, not aligning with the time frame when he and Wang Xifeng had an affair.

Furthermore, isn’t the one lying on the ground supposed to be his father? Zhang Chen’s head buzzed, as though a thousand mysteries passed through his mind, secretly deducing the timeline, yet no matter how he calculated, it didn’t fit.

"Strange! Strange!" Zhang Chen observed the black, thin youth with a subtle inquiry: "You previously mentioned searching for your father, wasn’t the dead man your father? Why are you still searching for him?"

He wondered in confusion.