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Following the initial wave of surprise, Wei Hou seemed to regain his composure. He blinked in surprise, a bemused expression gracing his face, "Is Young Lady Wan being sincere?" His question, tinged with disbelief and confusion, echoed through the silence, prompting the onlookers to hold their breath once more.

Fairy Fern Spirit\'s reply was as chilling as the frosty wind that swept through the field, "If you annihilate all the cultivators responsible for my mother\'s demise, I will accept your proposal." The iciness of her tone contrasted sharply with the content of her words, adding an eerie note to the already tense atmosphere. 

Wei Hou\'s initial jubilant expression quickly gave way to a frown at her words. His brows furrowed in deep contemplation as he pondered over the demand. He finally shook his head, a flicker of regret crossing his features, "I cannot comply! Many of my grandfather\'s confidants were implicated in that incident, and I simply lack the authority to sentence them." His tone reflected a hint of regret and frustration. As if attempting to salvage the situation, he quickly added, "Would Fairy Fern Spirit be amenable to alter her demand?" His question suggested a certain desperation, a wish to come to an agreement that was beneficial for both parties.

Wei Hou\'s plea for negotiation hung in the air unanswered. His eyes watched Fairy Fern Spirit with anticipation, silently hoping for her to yield and alter her demands. However, in response, Fairy Fern Spirit merely laughed, the sound cold and devoid of any warmth. Ignoring Wei Hou\'s presence entirely, she leaned towards Xiaolian, whispering something that only the two of them were privy to. The interaction, seemingly innocuous, yet crucial, escalated the tension permeating the atmosphere.

As the whispers faded into silence, Wei Hou was left with his question unanswered. His face, usually poised and collected, contorted with an array of raw emotions - indignation, frustration, and a hint of humiliation. It was a spectacle that captured the attention of the onlookers, a testament to his unraveling composure. He took a moment, drawing in a deep breath to curb his rapidly rising rage. Regaining his earlier poise, he redirected his attention towards a cultivator from the Hidden Evil School.

"Uncle Hui, it\'s been years since our paths crossed. I\'m elated to see how prosperous your disciples have become!" Wei Hou\'s words, filled with a seeming kinship, seemed to ease the tension slightly. The sudden shift from rage to geniality took the crowd by surprise, sparking a wave of murmurs among them. Wei Hou\'s declaration of kinship, after such a heated exchange, added another layer of intrigue to the unfolding spectacle.

Observing this dramatic shift, Han Cai found himself drawing parallels between the unfolding scenario and a theatrical performance. Each character had a role, their actions perfectly timed to add suspense and intrigue to the narrative. Despite the escalating tension, he found himself unwilling to leave. His interest was not solely focused on the spectacle at hand, but his gaze was also drawn towards the still uncertain fate of the "Deed to the Store in Meadow City."

Caught off guard by Wei Hou\'s sudden change in demeanor, the middle-aged man regarded him with a skeptical gaze. He responded with a cold scoff, his expression constantly shifting between surprise, suspicion, and annoyance. "I am fine indeed! Little did I expect your spies to discover me while I was training my disciples." His words reflected his deep-rooted resentment for the young man before him. With a sigh, he added, "Apparently, matters have taken a rather unpleasant turn." His words, laced with sarcasm, conveyed the bitterness he harbored towards the situation they found themselves in.

Wei Hou\'s eyes were locked onto the middle-aged man, a noticeable gleam of avarice shimmering in them. He chuckled lightly, a sound that echoed ominously through the tense silence. "Hehe! Uncle Hui sure has a sense of humor," he mocked, his words laced with an undercurrent of derision. He paused momentarily, leaning back and studying the older man\'s grim countenance with a deceptively jovial smirk. "Who would spend decades in the Azuremist Grassland for mere training?" he questioned, his gaze darting to the map clutched in the older man\'s grip. He was well aware of the man\'s ulterior motives. "Undoubtedly, you had some business with the Azuremist Mystic Realm. Several years ago, a group of your peers ventured there with the damaged Azuregrass Map. Maybe you have it in your possession now."

He paused, letting his words sink in, before delivering the final blow. "The emergence of the Azuremist Mystic Realm, which happens once in three thousand years, is soon due. However," his voice lowered, taking on a manipulative tone, "if Uncle chooses to surrender the map willingly, I pledge to plead on your behalf to my Ancestor for your life to be spared." The underhanded proposition, carefully veiled in a veneer of goodwill, seemed to unsettle the middle-aged man.

Listening to Wei Hou\'s manipulation, the middle-aged man was stunned into silence. His eyes narrowed as he digested the proposition and its potential consequences. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face - suspicion, indecision, and trepidation. After a seemingly interminable silence, he mustered enough courage to offer a retort. His voice, cold and firm, cut through Wei Hou\'s manipulative charade. "Once, we were his disciples. There\'s no way I wouldn\'t be aware of Old Devil Ancestor Qin\'s cunningness." His words echoed with a chilling finality. 

"Handing over the map would only result in our ruthless extermination by his sadistic tendencies. Moreover..." he began, only to be abruptly cut off by Wei Hou. With a creased brow, Wei Hou, clearly intrigued by the ominous beginning of the older man\'s statement, interjected. "Moreover?" he prompted, leaving an anticipatory silence hanging heavily in the air.

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