Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 622: Remnants Of The Fen Clan

Han Yu felt three presences.

One elderly man, his spiritual presence thin and flickering like a dying candle.

One middle aged woman, her cultivation nonexistent but her body toughened from labor.

One child, a boy… hungry, small, and weak.

The courtyard itself was pitifully small. A few bamboo planks formed the fence. Inside were three tiny rooms, a kitchen missing half its tiles, and a small toilet behind a loose wooden door. The only greenery was a handful of vegetables struggling in a dirt patch beside the kitchen.

Footsteps sounded from within. The door creaked open, and a boy of seven or eight walked out rubbing his eyes. His cheeks were thin, his wrists frail, and his clothes were patched many times over but kept as clean as possible.

He lifted his head and saw Han Yu.

His eyes widened in terror. The cold, predatory aura of Ju Fan hit him like a hammer. He let out a sharp cry and stumbled back, falling onto the dirt.

"Mother! Grandpa!"

The cry echoed across the courtyard.

The middle aged woman rushed out, skirt brushing the ground, panic on her face.

"Little Mue, what happened? What did you see—"

She froze as soon as she saw Han Yu standing tall and stern. She paled immediately.

"We… we already paid our debt! Why are you here again? We have nothing left to give!"

She bowed repeatedly, shielding the child behind her, voice cracking with fear.

The elderly man came hobbling out with his cane, his breath heavy and shallow. The moment his eyes fell on Han Yu, he instinctively released a sliver of Qi. It was weak and flickering, but it was the kind of reaction that came from a desperate attempt to show resistance.

Han Yu did not move, nor did he speak.

He simply stepped aside.

"Go," he said softly to Qing Luan.

She swallowed, her body trembling but her resolve firm. She stepped into the courtyard.

Her presence did not evoke fear. Instead, the woman blinked at her in confusion. The elderly man squinted, bringing her face into focus. The boy peeked from behind the woman's shoulder.

Qing Luan took a deep breath and spoke.

"My name is Qing Luan. My mother was Fen Hualing. I came looking for her clan."

The courtyard fell silent.

The elderly man's grip on his cane trembled violently.

He stared at her for several long seconds before his lips parted.

"Hualing…?"

His voice cracked. His cloudy eyes widened with disbelief. Tears instantly welled in his eyes and rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.

"Child… you look… you look just like her…"

Qing Luan's lips trembled. "You… you knew my mother?"

The old man nodded slowly. "Of course I did. I was her uncle… and this courtyard… this is what remains of our clan."

The middle aged woman quickly bowed. "Young Miss, if you are truly Hualing's daughter, then… then you finally returned. Your mother was the pride of our clan."

Qing Luan's tears spilled freely. "Then… what happened to everyone? Why did the clan fall so far? Where is everyone? And… what happened to Mother…?"

The courtyard quieted, a suffocating sadness filling the air.

Han Yu observed silently from the entrance.

'Now the truth will surface. And with it… my opportunities.'

The courtyard door creaked softly as Fen Dugong gestured them inside. His hand shook slightly, not from fear of Ju Fan, but from the frailty of age and the deep emotions stirred by seeing Fen Hualing's daughter.

"Please… come in," he said, voice thick. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Inside, the cramped rooms were even smaller and more worn than the courtyard suggested.

The walls showed water marks from years of rain seeping through cracks. The wooden beams overhead were discolored, and several were reinforced with patched boards to keep them from caving in. A single window let in faint afternoon light.

Fen Ziyue hurried about, gathering mismatched cups and a teapot with chipped edges. She poured tea carefully into each cup, yet the color was barely more than pale yellow water. The leaves had clearly been used for several brews already.

Han Yu brought the cup to his lips but drank barely a sip. It did not matter anyway. He was here for information.

He sat on the lone wooden chair in the room, the only one strong enough to support weight.

It creaked under him, but did not break. Fen Dugong sat cross-legged directly on the ground. Fen Ziyue sat behind him, and little Fen Mue clung to her sleeve, peeking around her legs at Han Yu and Qing Luan with curious fear.

Qing Luan sat close to Han Yu, unsure whether she should sit on the floor or stand. Eventually she lowered herself onto her knees, folding her hands on her lap. Her eyes stayed fixed on Fen Dugong.

He cleared his throat and began.

"My name is Fen Dugong. I am… was… the uncle of Fen Hualing. She was my younger brother's daughter." His voice wavered. "The young miss here… the resemblance is clear."

Qing Luan wiped her tears and bowed deeply. "Please… Elder Dugong… tell me everything. Anything you know."

Fen Dugong nodded, then began recounting the story, his words steady but soaked with years of hardship and sorrow.

"The Fen clan was already declining when Hualing married into the Qing clan. Most of our promising youths married out or left for some sects. Those who remained were either too old, too weak, or too bound to this place to leave."

He paused, rubbing his chest as if memory weighed heavily on him.

"Our debts kept growing. We did not have cultivators strong enough to protect our trade routes. Merchants from rival clans began undercutting our prices. Our farms suffered drought one year and blight the next. The elders tried to salvage what they could, but…"

His breath hitched.

"Then we lost our patriarch. My elder brother. He collapsed one evening. The doctor said his heart could not bear the pressure any longer."

Fen Ziyue lowered her head, her eyes red.