Chapter 872: The Psychic Master 36

For a moment, Mother He could only stare at He Tongyang, her body trembling with anger and disbelief.

“It must be you!” she snapped, her voice sharp and accusing. “You must have forced her into this, didn’t you? Jingwen is just a girl—how could she even think of something like removing her uterus?!”

In her eyes, there was only one explanation.

He Tongyang must have threatened her.

Seeing her hysterical reaction, the contempt in He Tongyang’s eyes only deepened.

He didn’t bother to respond to her accusation. Instead, his gaze shifted to Zhou Fang, calm and measuring.

“I heard you’re a descendant of the Zhou family?” he asked.

Zhou Fang paused briefly, then nodded. “Yes.”

He Tongyang leaned back slightly, his tone indifferent. “It’s not impossible for you to take Wu Jingwen away.”

Zhou Fang’s hands tightened instinctively. “What condition?”

A faint chill flashed across He Tongyang’s eyes.

“I want you… to compete against the younger generation of the He family,” he said. “Win, and you take her away. Lose… and her fate has nothing to do with you.”

The moment those words fell, Zhou Fang’s jaw clenched.

He understood the implication immediately.

This wasn’t just a test—

It was a gamble.

But after a brief silence, he still nodded.

“Alright. I agree,” he said firmly. Then his voice dropped, carrying a trace of warning. “But if anything happens to Jingwen… even if your He family is powerful, I won’t let it go.”

He Tongyang’s expression remained cold. “As long as she doesn’t cause trouble herself, no one will touch her.”

With that, he turned and walked away, heading toward the martial grounds.

Zhou Fang followed.

By the time they arrived, more than a dozen young members of the He family were already waiting in the arena. Around them stood several elders, silently observing.

He Tongyang took his seat calmly and said, “Defeat all of them, and you can take Wu Jingwen away.”

Zhou Fang drew in a deep breath, steadying himself.

“Alright,” he said.

“How do you want to compete?” he asked.

He Tongyang didn’t even bother to specify. “However you like,” he replied casually. “I only care about the result.”

Zhou Fang’s gaze sharpened, determination filling his eyes.

For Jingwen… I can’t lose.

The battle began.

And it was far from easy.

One opponent after another stepped forward, each stronger than the last. Techniques clashed, spiritual power surged, and the air in the arena grew tense with every exchange.

Time passed.

An hour.

Then two.

By the end, the ground was marked with the traces of fierce combat, and the atmosphere was thick with exhaustion and pressure.

Finally—

The last disciple of the He family fell.

Zhou Fang staggered, unable to hold back any longer as blood rose to his throat. He coughed it out, his body swaying slightly.

But he did not fall.

Instead, he forced himself to stand upright, his eyes fixed on He Tongyang.

“I won,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “Now… can you return Jingwen to me?”

He Tongyang stared at him silently for a moment.

Then he lifted his hand slightly.

“Bring her here.”

“Yes, Patriarch.”

Ten minutes later, Wu Jingwen was brought into the arena.

Her expression was cold at first—but the moment she saw Zhou Fang standing there, pale and injured, her face changed instantly.

“Brother Fang!” she cried out, rushing toward him. “What happened to you? Who hurt you?”

Her eyes quickly filled with anger as she turned toward He Tongyang. “Was it you?! He Tongyang, I’m telling you—no matter how you threaten me, even if I die, I will never become the He family’s filthy breeding tool!”

“Jingwen, stop!” Zhou Fang quickly grabbed her arm.

She froze, startled.

“It’s not like that,” he said, shaking his head.

Then he looked back at He Tongyang, his expression serious but respectful. “Patriarch He… can we leave now?”

Wu Jingwen blinked, confusion written all over her face.

Leave?

They could actually leave?

He Tongyang glanced at her, his gaze indifferent and faintly disdainful.

“Relax,” he said coolly. “I won’t go back on my word. Go.”

As if he had any interest in her at all.

To him, someone like Wu Jingwen wasn’t even worth comparing to a single strand of Tang Wan’s hair.

Zhou Fang finally let out a breath of relief.

“Thank you, Patriarch He,” he said sincerely.

Then he turned to Wu Jingwen. “Jingwen, let’s go.”

“…Okay,” she replied, still dazed.

Supporting Zhou Fang carefully, she helped him walk out of the martial arena.

Behind them—

He Tongyang remained seated, his expression unreadable.