Ten years was no more than a snap of the fingers to a high-level cultivator, but for a child, it was enough to transform a swaddled infant into a graceful young boy.
By now, Lin Feng and his family had moved to the Third Heaven and renamed the Purple Cloud Palace.
In the training grounds beside a side hall of Xi He Hall.
"Boom! Crack!"
A muffled crash rang out, accompanied by the crisp sound of something hard shattering.
In the middle of the grounds stood a boy who looked about ten years old, wearing a well-fitted, moon-white brocade robe patterned with clouds. A simple jade hairpin held up part of his jet-black hair.
The rest fell loosely behind his shoulders. He had inherited the best features of both parents and was exceptionally handsome, especially his eyes, which shone as black as lacquer, lively and tinged with mischief.
He was drawing back his little fist, looking faintly disdainful at a training puppet before him. Cast entirely from dark iron essence gold, it was supposed to withstand a full-strength blow from someone at the peak of the Emperor Realm.
A distinct little fist mark had been stamped into the puppet's sturdy chest, surrounded by a spiderweb of cracks. Its core formation flickered erratically; it was clearly ruined.
"Ugh, another one broken. These puppets Uncle Ding gave me can't take a beating at all." The boy curled his lip. His clear voice had the soft sweetness peculiar to children, yet his tone sounded like that of a world-weary old man.
This boy was none other than Lin Chen.
At only ten years old, his cultivation had already reached the Emperor Realm—a truly staggering feat!
Such speed of cultivation would have left jaws scattered across the floor, not just in the Third Heaven,