His throat bobbed as he swallowed a mouthful of blood. His eyes remained fixed on Li Jing'an's back, his voice filled with shock and disbelief:
"Old Li... you really only have the strength of a Fifth Grade Martial Artist?"
Li Jing'an still stood amid the swirling dust. Without turning around, he said calmly:
"Some cards should have been put away long ago. But you little brat are too good at causing trouble. If I didn't act, you'd really be dead."
As he spoke, his robe fluttered lightly, and he took another step forward.
"Crack."
The rubble split apart, and the ground sank an inch. In that instant, Chu Ning seemed to see Li Jing'an's shadow rise endlessly beneath the starlight, as though a heavenly god had descended to the mortal world.
Shock surged through his heart like a tide, and an unnamed tremor climbed from his spine to the crown of his head.
"One day... I have to reach this height too."
Wang Lin's remnant soul changed expression abruptly. He shouted furiously, "Fifth Grade! You're actually a Fifth Grade Martial Artist? Are you... a Blood Refining Hall hound, or a First Grade Pavilion lackey?"
Li Jing'an tore open the bloodstained blue cloth at his chest, revealing a dark-gold tattoo over his collarbone—a black bird riding on auspicious clouds. "Twenty years ago, you escaped the First Grade Pavilion's pursuit. Today..." His fingertip brushed over the tattoo, and the bird's eyes suddenly lit up. "Tun Yuan, it's time to bring you to justice."
The moment the words "Tun Yuan" were spoken, Wang Lin's phantom trembled violently. Then he burst into mad laughter. "Hahahaha... It's truly been many years since I've heard that name."
"Old Man Hunyuan... He actually still remembers me... But he only sent a Fifth Grade Low-rank brat to deal