Even if he had broken through several Minor Realms in a single night, Li Tiezhu was still only a tiny Qi Refining Cultivator. Before a Purple Mansion Great Cultivator, he was fundamentally not worth mentioning.
The big hand around his neck was like an iron pincer, clamping down on him, lifting him off the ground. No matter how he struggled, it did not move an inch.
His windpipe was under pressure, and his whole face had swollen to the color of pig liver. Not only was breathing difficult, even begging for mercy was impossible; he could only squeeze out a few blurred syllables with great difficulty.
Sensing the ice-cold killing intent emanated from the other party, Li Tiezhu's eyes filled with despair.
After tumbling and clawing his way through the Cultivation World for decades, he had long since ceased to be that ignorant, muddleheaded Xiaobai from back then. What the masses pursued was nothing more than the single word "live"; for the sake of lifespan, they could resort to any means.
Though the other party was a Purple Palace Cultivator, his entire body revealed a rotten, decaying aura. That sort of aura—Li Tiezhu had only ever sensed it before from the old people in the village who were on the verge of the grave.
People like this were the most dangerous, with no bottom line to speak of.
But He had not expected that the other party would be so audacious as to publicly commit violence under the eyes of the crowd. Was he not afraid of being punished by Myriad Manifestations Palace?
If it had been before, Li Hongming naturally would not have had such courage.
Now it was different. If he could not break through to the Golden Core Stage, he had at most thirty years left to