Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 542: The Ju Clan

By the time Han Yu reached the last few letters, the pile beside him had grown high. The final one was the shortest of them all.

"My son, I do not know if these letters will ever reach you anymore. But I will keep writing as long as I can. The Ju Clan still remembers your name, even if you do not wish to remember us. If your anger fades one day, come home. There will always be a place waiting for you."

Han Yu folded the letter carefully and placed it back into the box. For a moment, he simply stared at it. There was a strange ache in his chest. He did not know Ju Fan, not truly, yet he could almost feel the echo of the man's loneliness.

He looked around at the filthy cave, at the blood-stained walls and the half-rotted mats. This was how Ju Fan had lived; alone, surrounded by decay. Perhaps he had sealed away these letters precisely because they were the only things that reminded him of something pure.

Han Yu took a deep breath and focused his thoughts.

The letters mentioned something else... something called Blood Masters. It came up more frequently in the later letters, especially when Ju Qingge spoke about the clan's standing.

He pulled one of the middle letters again and reread the passage.

"The elders have decided to send another generation into the trials. The Blood Masters must not fade. Though your uncle failed to form the seal, the main branch still looks to us for results."

The words piqued Han Yu's curiosity.

He sifted through the other letters, finding more mentions of the term. Blood Masters, it seemed, were unique cultivators within the Ju Clan. Individuals who had developed a method of refining their own blood essence into a spiritual force that could manipulate others' vitality.

It was a terrifying but fascinating art.

The letters spoke of their blood carrying the memory of generations, that within the crimson veins of ever Ju Clan member was present a true Blood Master. It contained both their ancestry and their power. It was a hereditary path, cultivated through the careful preservation of lineage.

No wonder Ju Fan had a bloodline seal on the box.

Han Yu leaned back, piecing it together. The Ju Clan was not just another allied clan, they were an old lineage with a deep connection to the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect. If their members were Blood Masters, then their techniques likely resonated with the sect's doctrine, which revolved around blood, essence, and sacrifice.

It made sense now. Ju Fan probably joined the sect not merely for cultivation but because his bloodline made him compatible with its teachings. Perhaps he was even selected for something specific.

Han Yu put the letter away, feeling a mixture of pity and unease.

Ju Fan's life had been miserable, but beneath the madness, there had once been someone with family, purpose, and belonging. Somewhere along the way, he had abandoned all of that and drowned in blood.

Han Yu looked around the cave again and murmured softly, "I hope wherever you are, Ju Fan, know that your mother never stopped waiting."

The flickering talisman light dimmed slightly, casting long shadows across the bloodied walls. Han Yu sat quietly, his thoughts tangled between curiosity and melancholy.

He had come here to survive, yet every step seemed to drag him deeper into someone else's tragedy.

After a few minutes of pondering, Han Yu sat cross-legged beside the open box again, the air in the cave thick with a heavy stillness. The faint light of his illumination talisman flickered, throwing shadows over the letters strewn before him.

The pile of correspondence from Ju Fan's mother had left him uneasy, but what remained at the bottom of the box looked different.

These letters were newer, their parchment fresher. The wax seals were stamped not with the Ju Clan insignia, but with a simple official mark.

Han Yu frowned slightly. 'Government seals.'

These were not personal messages.

Curiosity prickled through his fatigue. He picked one up and unfolded it carefully, making sure not to tear the delicate paper. The ink was blotched in places as if water had dropped on them, but the words were still legible enough to read.

The first sentence made his heart skip.

To Ju Fan of the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect,

We regret to inform you of the calamity that has befallen your clan.

Han Yu froze, the letter trembling slightly in his hands. He blinked once, then twice, as though hoping his eyes had deceived him.

"Calamity?"

He continued reading.

On the night of the last New Moon, the Ju Clan estate was destroyed in what appears to be a catastrophic explosion of spiritual and bloodline energy. The destruction spanned more than a kilometer in radius, erasing nearly every living being in the vicinity.

Only a handful of servants who had left the estate for errands survived to bear witness. The cause of this event remains under investigation, though preliminary reports suggest an internal bloodline reaction.

Han Yu's lips parted slightly, and for several seconds, he forgot to breathe. He set the letter down, staring blankly at the blood-stained wall before him.

"The Ju Clan… destroyed?"

He glanced back at the neat handwriting, the formal tone of the report. There was no room for doubt in such words. The entire clan... gone in an instant.

A dull ache formed in his chest as he reached for the next letter. His hands were slightly unsteady, but he forced himself to open it.

This one was different.

It did not come from an official source, but rather from another member of the Ju Clan, someone who had apparently lived away from the family for a long time. The handwriting was looser, more emotional, as if the writer's hand had trembled while recording the events.

Nephew Ju Fan, I write this with grief that words cannot contain. You may already have received the report from the city officials, but I wanted to tell you what really happened. The Ju Clan's decline had grown worse in recent years.

We had not produced a true Blood Master in more than three centuries. The Patriarch's cultivation stagnated at the Dao Shell realm, and even the bloodline's resonance weakened in our children. The other clans—Qing, Wen, and Zhao—mocked us, calling us diluted and impure. The pressure grew unbearable.