The dimly lit interior of the casino hummed with the soft clinking of spirit stones and the low murmur of negotiations. The manager, a stout man with a sly smile, stepped forward to greet Lie Zhanfeng.
"Well, well, how can I help you today?" Feng Yan asked, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
Lie Zhanfeng wasted no time and stated his purpose plainly, "Do you accept spiritual herbs in exchange for spirit stones? I have something of interest to trade."
Feng Yan's smile grew sharper. "We certainly do, but it depends on the quality of the herb. Show me what you've got."
Lie Zhanfeng hesitated briefly, his mind running through the spiritual plants he had gathered from the cave. Among the ten, two had already been sold to another shop. The remaining ones were far more precious and beneficial for cultivation. Selling them felt like a loss, but his dwindling spirit stone reserves left him no choice.
Reaching into his satchel, Lie Zhanfeng produced a carefully wrapped bundle and revealed a vibrant herb with deep emerald leaves and a faint golden glow along the edges. "This is the Goldenflame Herb. It's not the rarest, but it's useful for Qi Refining cultivators."
Feng Yan examined the herb closely, his sharp eyes assessing its worth. "A fine specimen," he said, stroking his chin. "I'll offer 200 spirit stones for it."
Lie Zhanfeng raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. The Goldenflame Herb was indeed valuable, but he hadn't expected such a significant price gap compared to what he received for other plants at the previous shop.
"That's... more generous than I expected. Thanks, Boss," Lie Zhanfeng said, tipping his head slightly.
"Just call me Feng Yan," the manager replied, his smile widening. "And remember, if you have more treasures, feel free to bring them here. We value fairness."
Lie Zhanfeng pocketed the spirit stones and left the casino on foot. He preferred not to hire a carriage, wary of involving innocent people should trouble arise. If he were pursued, he could retreat into his Void Bracelet's space, but the same couldn't be said for a coachman.
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As he made his way along a quieter path, the faint murmur of voices reached his ears. He slipped behind a tree and peeked around it cautiously.
Ahead, three figures—two men in black robes and the shopkeeper from the earlier encounter—stood facing a young boy. The boy looked no older than fourteen, his face partially obscured by a mask. He held a broken sword in his hands, his stance defiant despite the odds.
One of the men in black sneered, his scarred face twisting into a menacing grin. "Hand over your storage ring, boy, and we'll leave your body intact."
The boy didn't respond, his cold gaze fixed on his attackers.
Lie Zhanfeng assessed the situation. The shopkeeper, an old man with a calm demeanor, was a 4th-level Qi Refining cultivator. The two men in black were slightly stronger, both at the 5th level. While Lie Zhanfeng could defeat them with his current cultivation, he was reluctant to get involved. He didn't enjoy meddling in other people's affairs unless necessary.
He turned to leave but paused when his eyes caught the boy's expression. Beneath the mask, there was a fiery determination, a stubborn refusal to accept defeat. The description reminded Lie Zhanfeng of a certain someone—Xie Dongyi.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. Gritting his teeth, he stepped out from behind the tree.
The sudden appearance of Lie Zhanfeng startled the group.
"Who the hell are you?" one of the men in black growled, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.
Lie Zhanfeng smirked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Me? I'm the one who's going to take your lives."
The second man in black, a stocky figure with a scar on his face, pointed at the 'Tattoo' on Lie Zhanfeng's exposed arm. His eyes widened in recognition. "Lao Wu! It's him! The guy who escaped from us a month ago!"
Lie Zhanfeng's smirk vanished, his expression hardening. If they recognized him, leaving them alive wasn't an option.
"Ah, you're still sore about that?" he said, rolling his shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you—with a swift death."
The man with the scar lunged first, his curved blade slashing through the air with a metallic hiss. Lie Zhanfeng didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped in, his body moving with fluid precision. Grabbing the man's wrist, he twisted sharply, forcing the blade to slip from his grasp. Without hesitation, Lie Zhanfeng's elbow collided with the man's face, sending him crashing into a tree with a sickening crack.
Another man—slender and fast—rushed in, dagger aimed for Lie Zhanfeng's ribs. Lie Zhanfeng dodged with ease, sidestepping to the side and sweeping the man's legs out from under him. As the attacker hit the ground, Lie Zhanfeng's knee came down hard on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
The Primordial Tyrant Codex surged through his body. It wasn't just strength; it was a refined, brutal art of using sheer force with precise control. Lie Zhanfeng felt it course through him, knowing this was the power he'd spent so long unlocking. It wasn't a show of force—it was domination, and it felt as natural as breathing.
The shopkeeper, realizing how quickly his underlings had fallen, frantically activated a fire talisman. A bright explosion of flames hurtled toward Lie Zhanfeng. But Lie Zhanfeng was already moving, stepping into the inferno. His fist struck with unrelenting power, and the flames dissipated into harmless embers.
Before the shopkeeper could react, Lie Zhanfeng was on him. He launched himself forward, his fist like a hammer, crashing into the man's chest. The force of the blow was enough to send him flying backwards into a nearby tree. There was a sickening crack, and the shopkeeper's back contorted unnaturally. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, unable to move.
Lie Zhanfeng stood over him, breathing heavily but still in control. He glanced down at the groaning man. "Finally settled the score," he muttered. The man's life was already forfeit, and with that, the lingering grudge was erased.
Lie Zhanfeng quickly moved around the unconscious bodies, his eyes scanning for the storage rings. It didn't take long for him to find them—each attacker had one. With inexperienced movement, he plucked the rings from their fingers, slipping them into his own space.
When he reached the shopkeeper, he took his ring too, pausing for a moment to inspect it. There were many valuable items hidden within it, and Lie Zhanfeng's lips curled slightly. "Jackpot," he muttered, securing the ring in his space as well.
By the time Lie Zhanfeng turned back, he saw the boy was still standing, his posture stiff, his broken sword still gripped in his hand. His cold eyes followed the scene, but his expression never wavered. He remained silent, observing but not reacting.
Lie Zhanfeng approached the boy, who still stood frozen in place. "Kid, you alright?" he asked, his tone softer now.
The young man's eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling into a faint, emotionless frown. "Stop calling me 'kid,'" he said in his usual flat tone.
Lie Zhanfeng blinked, showing a clueless expression that deserves a beating, "Sure, whatever you say."
The boy didn't respond, his gaze still cold and distant.
Lie Zhanfeng let out a soft laugh. "Cold as ice, aren't you?" He shook his head, knowing better than to push the boy too much.
Just as Lie Zhanfeng turned to leave, he noticed the boy's stance faltering. The boy swayed for a moment, his cold composure finally crumbling as exhaustion caught up with him.
Without warning, the boy collapsed, fainting right into Lie Zhanfeng's arms.
Lie Zhanfeng caught him easily, muttering under his breath. "Cold personality or not, you're still just a kid," he said, half-amused.
With a shrug, he slung the boy over his shoulder and turned away, his gaze hardening as it lingered on the defeated attackers. This wasn't a world where mercy was often repaid with kindness.
This is the magical world of cultivation, afterall. Injuries, no matter how severe, could be healed, and grudges were seldom forgotten. Leaving enemies alive was planting the seeds for future retaliation.
Lie Zhanfeng's expression darkened.
One by one, he ended their lives with swift, precise strikes. There was no hesitation, no theatrics—only the cold efficiency of someone who understood the harsh rules of survival. When he reached the shopkeeper, whose broken body trembled weakly on the ground, Lie Zhanfeng stared down at him.
"This is the end for you," he said quietly, before delivering the final blow.
With the matter resolved, he adjusted the unconscious boy on his shoulder and walked away, leaving behind only silence and the faint rustle of the wind.