A Dish Best Served Cold (The Man In Rage) novel Chapter 1726

“Such is the fate of the Chu family,” the voice of the old lady continued sadly, laden with grief accumulated over the decades. “Go, and never show yourself here again.”

Despite her pleas, the old matriarch was forced against her will to watch her family tear each other apart.

Long before she was deemed senile, nobody in the Chu family took her seriously. Not even Chu Yuan, with whom she begged to reverse his decision on Ye Fan's banishment.

It seemed as though the vicious cycle of history would never cease to torment the old woman. Ye Fan was yet another one of her descendants destined to disobey her.

With the lethargy of old age settling in her bones, she had finally given up on the impossible task of trying to reconcile her kin. Besides, her age gap with Ye Fan was far too great for the pair to communicate as equals.

The old woman often found herself wandering about the Chu residence only to realize how few of them she actually knew, with Ye Fan being the one she was most acquainted with.

Before, she had planned for Ye Fan to inherit the ancestral sword at a more suitable time as the Sword ofYunyangwasto be unleashed at the moment it was needed the most.

However, she felt as if there might not be another opportunity to do so given the turn of events over the past couple of months.

Outside of the compound, the ancient sword glowed green as it hung suspended in midair.

With the forlorn voice of his great-grandmother still echoing through the air, Ye Fan found himself frozen in shock.

Gazing into the depths of the sword before him, he saw the soul within swirling along with the green light as it pulsed and shimmered.

“Could this be the very same sword used by our great ancestor?”

Ye Fan gazed at the sword before him, lost in thought for a long time. Unable to understand the emotions that heaved in his heart, he found it difficult to calm

himself.

Ye Fan recalled that there was a record of the founder of the Chu family, Chu Yunyang, in the Book of Celestial Cloud.

The legend was that he had set out to establish a foothold of his family in the land armed with nothing but a sacred sword.

This must have been the sword in question! The Sword ofYunyang!

At last, Ye Fan reached out in a daze and grabbed hold of the hilt.

The moment his skin made contact with the sword, he began to convulse violently.

Thrown into a swirling river where time and space ceased to exist, Ye Fan stood transfixed, his hand still glued to the hilt, as centuries of the noble family's history flashed before his eyes.

Without even realizing it, tears of reverence for the founding patriarch rolled down his cheeks.

At the same time, a figure as broad as a mountain appeared in his mind's eye. With his powerfully built body drawn to full height, his shoulders became lost in the clouds.

Gazing down with regal haughtiness, he looked as if the world belonged at his feet.

“Mr. Yunyang,” Ye Fan whispered.

If Tsukuyomi was the deity of Japanese martial artists, the founding father of the Chu family, Chu Yunyang, was Ye Fan's.

Ever since embarking on the path of the warrior, every obstacle he had encountered along the way was once overcome by Chu Yunyang all those millennia ago.

Aside from his martial accomplishments, the founding patriarch had also been a talented scholar. The Book of Celestial Cloud, filled with elegant yet concise instructions, was said to have been the written record of his ancestor's thoughts. A byproduct of random musings in his spare time.

Ye Fan became thunderstruck by the realization that the sword he was wielding had once been used by his ancestor in his own quest. Despite the millennia that separated them, Ye Fan was not so different from Chu Yunyang after all.

His feeling of awe was fleeting.

When he grasped the hilt, the sword hummed louder for a moment and with a flash of green light, swiped across his palm.

A drop of blood fell onto the blade and turned into vapor the moment it made contact with the metal.

With a final hum, the sword quivered once more before falling still. Its green light faded slowly away.

In the absence of the green light, the sword of Yunyang looked like an ordinary, battle-worn old sword. Despite its shabby appearance, the ritual of the blood had solidified its allegiance to Ye Fan.

Gazing in wonderment at the sword, he turned toward the Chu residence once more and sank into a deep bow.

“I will never forget this, great-grandma. It has been an honor being your great-grandson. I hope that I would be able to repay all that you have done in another life. Take care of yourself.”

With one last gaze at the decrepit structure through bloodshot eyes, he sheathed the sword in the scabbard on his back and began his descent down