Compared to That One, I'm Not Even Worth a Fart

At the instant the Water Splitting Thorn and soft sword were about to strike him, the Spring Embroidered Saber at his waist left its sheath.

With a clang, the blade cried out.

Blade light spilled across the ground like moonlight, carrying boundless Baleful Intent.

God of Slaughter's Blade Slash.

The blade light condensed into a black ribbon, freezing even the air wherever it passed.

A bone-piercing chill instantly swept through the teahouse. Though the Young Master in White was a True Qi Realm martial artist and stood some distance away, she could not help shuddering, as if she had fallen into an ice cellar.

One could only imagine the pressure endured by Heavenly Cripple and Earthly Mute beneath that blade light.

"Pfft!"

Two crisp sounds rang out almost at the same time.

The Water Splitting Thorn in Heavenly Cripple's hand shattered inch by inch the moment it touched the blade light. She herself was struck by the blade qi, her body cleanly split from shoulder to abdomen, blood and entrails splattering across the ground.

Earthly Mute's soft sword fared no better. The blade light pierced through the sword and severed him at the waist. His upper body crashed heavily before Su Fei's table, his eyes still wide open with terror.

As the blade light faded, Su Fei sheathed his saber in one smooth, flowing motion.

Two more corpses lay on the ground, mingled with the bodies of the jianghu men from before. The stench of blood spread through the air.

The Young Master in White stared at Su Fei, nearly snapping the folding fan in her hand.

She finally understood that this seemingly young man in blue was a hundred times more terrifying than she had imagined.

She truly had no idea how he cultivated. Judging by his face, he was not much older than she was.

Just now, she had been utterly unable to move.

The Baleful Intent in that strike had made her feel as though even her soul were about to freeze.

After finishing everything, Su Fei straightened the wrinkles in his clothes without even sparing her a glance.

For some reason, she spoke.

"I'm not an assassin from the Shadow Kill Tower."

Su Fei politely replied.

"I know. You are different from them. You have no killing intent, and your martial cultivation is far too poor."

The "Young Master in White" clenched her little fists at his words.

Su Fei rose and walked toward the horse trough, untying the reins.

The Thousand Mile Steed seemed startled by the smell of blood, pawing uneasily at the ground.

Su Fei gently stroked its back and said softly,

"Now that you're full, it's time to get back on the road."

He swung onto the horse without looking back. The sound of hooves gradually faded, vanishing at the end of the official road.

Inside the teahouse, the Young Master in White looked at the corpses scattered across the ground, then in the direction Su Fei had departed, and suddenly said to her servant,

"Quick, pack our things. We need to leave this place at once and continue our journey."

"Qingzhou is far too terrifying."

"Not only does the Shadow Kill Tower come out to kill people in broad daylight, but the man they tried to assassinate is already a Grandmaster Realm martial artist at such a young age. Who knows which sect's prodigy he is?"

"Miss, didn't you say you were a prodigy too?"

"Don't say another word, Xiao Tao. Compared to that one, I'm not even worth a fart."

By nightfall, Su Fei rode into a small town.

He chose to enter the town and find somewhere to rest.

The little town was brightly lit. It was larger than an ordinary village, and stalls lined both sides of the street. A market was actually being held.

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Su Fei rode down the street.

An old man making clay figurines used a bamboo knife to shape a lump of clay. An old woman selling tea eggs lifted the lid of her steamer, and white vapor mixed with fragrance drifted onto the street.

A scholar in a long robe had set up an easel and was painting a portrait for a child. A fortune-telling Daoist shook a tube of fortune sticks, his fly-whisk resting in the crook of his arm.

There was also a Bearded Man carrying a rack of candied hawthorns, the glossy red fruits glimmering beneath the lanterns.

In the middle of the street, a monk draped in a kasaya leaned on his monk's staff, palms pressed together as he begged alms from the owner of a pancake stall.

Two men pushing handcarts shouted for people to make way. Their carts were piled with coarse cloth sacks, making them look like peddlers packing up for the day.

What a tranquil, carefree scene.

Su Fei slowed his pace. Just as he reached the center of the market, a sudden change erupted!

"Kill!"

That low shout was like a signal. The people who had been minding their own business instantly changed expression.

The old man making clay figurines threw his clay knife. The bamboo knife spun through the air and became a sharp short blade.

The old woman selling tea eggs overturned her steamer, splashing scalding water at Su Fei while a three-inch dagger appeared in her hand.

The scholar behind the easel tore off his long robe, revealing the soft sword hidden beneath. The tip of his brush transformed into a sword tip and stabbed straight at Su Fei.

The fortune-telling Daoist's fly-whisk suddenly spread apart, threadlike silver strands shooting out wrapped around several poisoned needles.

The man selling candied hawthorns swung his rack, its wooden pole bursting apart to reveal an iron spear embedded within.

The monk begging alms suddenly swung his monk's staff. The bowl-thick shaft screamed as it cut through the air and smashed toward Su Fei's head.

The two men with handcarts directly overturned their carts as well. The sacks rolled away, revealing long spears and lances inside. One gripped a spear, the other a lance, and they attacked from both sides.

In only a few breaths, more than ten people surged in from every direction. Their weapons differed, but every move was vicious. They had turned the entire street into a killing trap.

Su Fei's expression remained calm.

Assassins from the Shadow Kill Tower again? You truly linger like ghosts that refuse to disperse.

He flipped off his horse, his figure soaring into the sky like Fleeting Light Shadow.

Under the moonlight, Su Fei stood proudly in the air.

"You don't know whether you're dead or alive."

His right hand drew the saber.

With a roar, the blade cried out.

God of Slaughter's Blade Slash!

This strike was utterly different from the one at the teahouse during the day. Vast Baleful Intent and Su Fei's true essence condensed into a black dragon, its gaping maw seeming capable of swallowing heaven and earth.

The blade qi dragon roared into the sky, tearing through the air with a shrill howl as it swept toward the assassins in every direction.

The old man making clay figurines had barely rushed close when a dragon claw struck him. His short blade and arm turned into a mist of blood, and the dragon's tail sent his whole body flying. He smashed into a stone wall and became a puddle of flesh.

The scalding water thrown by the old woman selling tea eggs had not even hit the ground before the dragon's head crushed over her, silencing her in an instant.

The scholar's soft sword scraped against the dragon's body and broke inch by inch. Like a fallen leaf swept up by a gale, he slammed into the wall behind him. The sound of shattering bones mingled with the crisp crash of collapsing wooden boards.

All of the Daoist's poisoned needles flew back beneath the blade qi dragon, turning his own face into that of a hedgehog. The silver threads of his fly-whisk were ground into powder by the blade qi.

The man selling candied hawthorns, along with his spear, was caught up by the blade qi dragon. His miserable scream abruptly stopped. Only several skewers of candied hawthorns rolled into the dust, smeared with mud.

The spears and lances of the two men with handcarts were sent flying from their hands the moment they touched the dragon's body. Their pupils bulged as dragon claws seized them and smashed them viciously into the ground, blood splattering across the entire street.

Only the monk was somewhat stronger. He reacted with astonishing speed, holding his monk's staff horizontally before him as his true essence erupted into a pale golden protective barrier.

The blade qi dragon slammed into the barrier with an earthshaking boom. The barrier visibly dimmed at a rapid pace.

The monk gave a muffled grunt, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. Most of the copper rings on his monk's staff shattered, and the force drove him stumbling backward again and again.

He crashed through the stalls behind him, a large section of his chest caved in. His breastbone had clearly shattered.

The blade qi dragon gradually dissipated. The street was a complete mess, stalls collapsed and blood everywhere. Of the more than ten assassins, only the monk remained alive.

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