Beijing, Qin Xun’s Residence.
In a modest courtyard, a group of people surrounded Qin Xun, who sat in a wheelchair. Leading them was Wu Ke, a C-rank cultivator and a trusted subordinate of Elder Han.
Wu Ke had once been disciplined by Qin Xun for misconduct, and the grudge had festered. Now, he saw this as the perfect opportunity for revenge.
Qin Xun’s household consisted of only a young housemaid, who handled chores like cleaning and cooking. After self-destructing his Qihai Snow Mountain (energy core), his foundation had been severely damaged—not only was his cultivation ruined, but his physical condition had also deteriorated drastically. He relied entirely on her care.
The housemaid was strikingly beautiful, which made her a target of Wu Ke’s lewd taunts. Yet, she remained silent, standing quietly by Qin Xun’s side.
Perhaps due to Qin Xun’s once-formidable reputation, even as a cripple, Wu Ke and his men didn’t dare go too far—limiting themselves to verbal provocations.
“Elder Qin, I doubt you ever imagined you’d end up like this,” Wu Ke sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. “If only you’d shown me mercy back then, maybe I’d let you keep some dignity today.”
The housemaid scoffed. “A petty man blaming others for his own mistakes.”
Wu Ke’s face darkened. He signaled two burly men beside him. “Go. Teach her a lesson. Who does she think she’s dealing with?”
The two men grinned as they approached, though unease gnawed at them—what if Qin Xun suddenly rose from his wheelchair and snapped their necks?
Qin Xun remained expressionless, showing no anger. To Wu Ke, this was just an act—a feeble attempt at intimidation. After all, if the once-mighty Tianquan Elder hadn’t truly lost his power, why would he tolerate such humiliation?
(There used to be guards here, but they had been reassigned.)
The housemaid tightened her grip on the wheelchair, her face pale but her composure forced.
Her delicate, frightened appearance only excited the two men. One of them lunged at her eagerly—
Slap!
Her hands flailed in panic, accidentally striking the man’s face. A crisp sound echoed as three teeth flew out of his mouth.
“Ah! S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she stammered, backing toward the other man—only to “accidentally” hit him as well.
Crack!
This time, she used a bit more force. The man’s neck twisted unnaturally, and he collapsed, lifeless.
Wu Ke: “???”
Qin Xun remained as calm as ever, as if he had expected this outcome.
But Wu Ke was far from calm. Based on the housemaid’s speed and strength, she had to be at least C-rank—otherwise, how could she snap a D-rank cultivator’s neck so effortlessly?
Why did the intel say she was an ordinary person?
We tested her multiple times!
Wu Ke couldn’t make sense of it.
Qin Xun suddenly smiled. “Who gave you the courage to surround my home?”
He turned to the housemaid. “Yan’er, one minute—enough?”
“Plenty.”
In an instant, “Yan’er” became a blur, darting past the group. Wu Ke managed to stumble back, but the others stood frozen—until thin red lines appeared on their necks, deepening rapidly.
“You’re not C-rank?!” Wu Ke gasped, bolting in terror.
Holy sh—
Before he could finish the thought, a cold sensation pierced the back of his neck.
Thud!
Wu Ke dropped to his knees, clutching his bleeding neck in panic. “I’m dead, I’m dead…”
Yan’er looked down at him in disgust. “No skill, no guts, yet you dare cause trouble here?”
She kicked him flat onto the ground. Blood gushed from his wound.
“Who said I’m not C-rank? If you’re weak, don’t blame others.”
A faint smirk played on her beautiful face.
If Su Mo were here, he’d recognize her instantly…
…..
Eastern Beijing.
A squad—one B-rank and five C-ranks—waited for their target.
One checked the time. Should be about now. He hefted his weapon, ready for battle—
But suddenly, his warhammer grew impossibly heavy.
His advantage was brute strength, so the hammers were already weighted to his preference. Now, their weight multiplied several times over, turning them into deadly burdens.
Crunch!
The hammer slammed onto another teammate’s foot, shattering it completely.
“Who’s there?!” The six immediately went on high alert—
Only to see their target standing before them: Nie Yun.
Their mission, assigned by Elder Han, was simple: Kill Nie Yun when she arrived.
“Well, it’s the person you wanted to kill,” Nie Yun said around a lollipop, her voice muffled but her tone unmistakably mocking.
Her dismissive attitude enraged them. They swore to tear her apart.
“Attack!”
(Except for the guy with the obliterated foot, who was too busy writhing on the ground.)
Nie Yun didn’t move. Yet, the men’s legs suddenly felt like lead, their movements sluggish.
“Thought my ability was telekinesis?” She chuckled. “Oops. I faked it.”
Gravity intensified—five times normal. Nie Yun, however, moved as if unaffected.
In the crushing force field, the men struggled to adapt. Their reactions slowed just enough for Nie Yun to pick them off with ease.
But then—
The B-rank fighter, blood dripping from his mouth, lunged at her.
Nie Yun recoiled in disgust, barely dodging—but a few drops landed on her skin.
“You’re dead.” Enraged, she slammed her palm against his forehead. Spiritual energy surged, shredding his brain from within. He dropped instantly.
A B-rank, killed so easily? It felt… anticlimactic.
Nie Yun eyed the others. “Killing all of you should make it less lame.”
Others: “???”
Three minutes later, Nie Yun hauled six corpses away—
Then, dizziness hit.
The spot where the B-rank’s blood had touched her skin was smoking, as if corroded by acid.
His blood was poisonous?!
Nie Yun’s vision darkened. She collapsed.
…..
Eastern Jing City, Ancient Tomb.
Usually desolate, the tomb was now bustling. Cultivators from domestic and foreign factions had gathered, all hoping to profit from the chaos.
The tomb’s entrance was a stone slab—pressing a hand to it teleported one inside.
Five major forces surrounded the site:
-
The Western Divine Church
-
The Island Nation (Japan)
-
America
-
The Ten Thousand Beasts Alliance
-
A masked individual
Their numbers were small (Japan had the most at twenty), but every member was at least C-rank.
Each group was led by veteran B-ranks—America had three, showcasing their overwhelming strength. The tomb’s defenders stood no chance.
The white-haired leader of the American team proposed splitting forces—some would stay outside as guards while others explored.
But no one wanted to be the “sucker” left behind. Eventually, they agreed each faction would contribute a few guards.
The Western Divine Church, with the fewest members, protested. “We barely have enough people as is! Let the stronger ones handle security.”
A cold voice from the Japanese side replied, “Fine. But we get 10% of your final haul.”
The Church members smirked. “Deal.”
(After all, they could just claim zero gains. 10% of nothing was still nothing.)
“Hurry up,” the masked figure suddenly interjected. “Once inside, avoid Ye Qingyu at all costs. If you see her, RUN. Don’t throw your lives away. Understood?”
The others exchanged glances but didn’t argue.
That woman was terrifying. Back when she’d just broken through to B-rank, she’d crushed seasoned experts effortlessly. Now?
…They could only pray not to run into her.