Severed Ties: That Comb, Crushed into the Soil

The morning mist had yet to dissipate, but the air on the sports field felt as solid as cement.

Tang San's hand was frozen mid-air, his fingertips an inch away from Xiao Wu's luxurious sleeve, yet it felt like an insurmountable chasm. He looked at the maiden before him, so familiar yet so strange—her gold thread long skirt flowed with radiant light, her gem necklace sparkled, and her eyes, which once curved into crescent moons just for him, were now as cold as two blocks of eternal ice.

"Not familiar?"

Tang San's corner of the mouth twitched. He forced a smile that was uglier than crying, his voice hoarse, "Xiao Wu, stop playing. Did Qian Mo give you some bewitching medicine? Or did he use some evil technique to control your mind?"

The more he spoke, the more he felt he was right. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. He subtly moved his left hand behind his back, gripping the silent sleeve arrow hidden in his sleeve.

"It must be! Xiao Wu, I'm your brother! We made a vow!" Tang San took a step forward, his tone urgent, laced with an undeniable tone of lecturing, "Come here quickly! Let me check your body and drive out the evil spirits! The outside world is too dangerous, only by my side is safe!"

"Safe?"

Xiao Wu let out a cold laugh, devoid of any warmth, filled only with thick sarcasm.

"Tang San, since you're so open, let me ask you."

Xiao Wu stared directly into Tang San's evasive eyes and said, word by word, "Why has your father, Tang Hao, been following us like a ghost for the past six years?"

This sentence struck Tang San's mind like a heavy hammer.

Tang San's face instantly turned pale, his pupils contracting violently. He opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to deny it, but under Xiao Wu's piercing gaze, the lie got stuck in his throat, unable to be spoken.

"You... you know?" Tang San's voice trembled.

"Of course, I know." Tears welled up in Xiao Wu's eyes, a regret for the past six years of naive innocence. "A Titled Douluo, not seeking revenge at the Martial Soul Hall, not living in seclusion in a sect, but instead staring at a 'harmless' rabbit every day. Tang San, tell me, is this to protect you, or to... raise me?"

"No! It's not like that!" Tang San panicked, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "Dad... he's just worried about my safety! And... and I haven't even seen Dad, I don't know where he..."

"Enough."

Xiao Wu interrupted his pale defense. "Tang San, you've been smart since you were a child, so smart it's scary. Do you believe such an excuse yourself?"

"I think this woman needs a good beating!"

Beside them, Dai Mubai had been holding back his anger. Seeing Tang San flustered, he roared, his White Tiger Martial Soul instantly manifesting, ready to rush forward and forcibly pull her away. "Xiao San, why are you wasting words with her! Just grab her back first! She'll naturally be grateful to us when she wakes up!"

Ma Hongjun chimed in, "Exactly! She must have been hit by an evil technique! Phoenix Fireline!"

The two, left and right, unleashed their full soul power, like wolves pouncing.

Qian Mo stood on the steps, idly playing with a gold soul coin in his hand, not even lifting an eyelid.

"Kneel."

Two words, spoken lightly.

"Weng--!"

A pure, ultimate pressure of Purple Gold Auspiciousness descended like Mount Tai collapsing.

This wasn't a suppression of Soul Power Level, but a dimensional strike from a higher life form.

"Crack!"

Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun's bodies, still mid-air, stiffened abruptly, then were slammed to the ground as if by an invisible giant hand. Their knees dug heavily into the soil, the sound of bones cracking crisp and clear.

"Ah--!" The two cried out in pain, faces pressed to the ground, unable to move even a single finger.

Qian Mo blew on the Gold Soul Coin at his fingertip, his gaze passing over the two ants crawling on the ground, and looked towards Xiao Wu.

"Since you're going to break it, break it completely," Qian Mo said calmly. "Don't keep those trash items around, they're an eyesore."

Xiao Wu took a deep breath and nodded.

Her hand swept over the Soul Tool at her waist, and a flash of light appeared.

A crudely made wooden comb appeared in her palm.

It was a comb carved from ordinary sandalwood, with a lopsided rabbit pattern etched onto it. This was something Tang San had personally carved for her when they were at Nuoding Academy, saying he would help her comb her hair every day from then on.

This comb had once been her treasure, and she couldn't sleep without it by her pillow every night.

Seeing this comb, a flicker of hope ignited in Tang San's previously ashen eyes.

"Xiao Wu..." Tang San's voice trembled as he reached out with both hands, wanting to catch it. "I knew... I knew you wouldn't bear to part with it. This comb, it's ours..."

"Clatter."

Xiao Wu let go.

The wooden comb fell vertically, dropping onto the dusty ground and kicking up a small circle of dust.

Tang San's hands froze mid-air, his expression solidified.

Xiao Wu raised her right foot. Those Flowing Cloud Battle Boots, inlaid with rubies, gleamed with a cold luster in the morning light.

Without any hesitation.

They descended.

"Crack."

Under the crushing force of the Soul Tool battle boots, the fragile sandalwood instantly shattered into pieces, becoming worthless scraps of wood.

Even the lopsided rabbit carved on it was stomped into the mud, its original appearance no longer discernible.

"I don't need your cheap tenderness anymore."

Xiao Wu retracted her foot, her voice as cold as if she were speaking to a stranger, "This comb, just like your hypocritical deep affection, is worthless."

"Pfft--!"

Tang San felt a sharp pain in his chest, his throat sweetened, and a mouthful of fresh blood spurted out.

Killing the heart.

This kick didn't just crush a comb, it crushed his laughable self-esteem as a "Transmigrator" and "Son of the Plane."

"Xiao Wu! How could you..." Tang San clutched his chest, staggered back, his face as pale as paper, his eyes filled with despair and malice.

"Wonderful."

Qian Mo lightly clapped his hands, walked down the steps, and stood beside Xiao Wu, as if appreciating a grand finale.

He turned to look at Dean Flender, who was already dumbfounded.

"Dean Flender, is this play good?" Qian Mo's lips curled into a smile.

Flender pushed up his askew glasses, his face extremely grim. He wanted to get angry, to use his Soul Saint pressure to teach these lawless students a lesson, to forcibly keep Xiao Wu.

"Qian Mo! You've gone too far!" Flender gritted his teeth, "You're poaching from under my nose and injuring my students! Do you really think Shrek is made of mud?!"

"I don't know if it's made of mud, but I know you are made of gold."

Qian Mo flipped his wrist, a Black Gold Card held between his fingertips.

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"Here is 100,000 Gold Soul Coins."

Qian Mo flicked two fingers gently.

The Black Gold Card drew a beautiful arc, precisely embedding itself three inches deep into the soil at Flender's feet.

"This rabbit's transfer fee."

Qian Mo's tone was lazy, as if he were buying a cabbage at the market. "Also, including Oscar and Ning Rongrong, I'll add another fifty thousand. This money is enough for you to buy this broken village and build a cemetery."

The soul power Flender had just gathered instantly dissipated.

He stared at the Black Gold Card at his feet, his throat moving with difficulty.

One hundred thousand... plus fifty thousand...

150,000 Gold Soul Coins!

Shrek Academy's tuition fees collected over the past twenty years wouldn't even amount to a fraction of this!

With this money, he could even go to Heaven Dou City and buy a license for a proper academy, and never have to scam for food and drinks in this godforsaken place again!

Dignity?

In the face of 150,000 Gold Soul Coins, dignity was nothing!

"Cough cough..." Flender quickly bent down, picked up the card, wiped the Soil off with his sleeve, and put on a heartbroken yet helpless expression. "Since... since the children aren't aiming for this, I can't force them. A melon twisted by force is not sweet. I wish... I wish you a bright future."

"Dean!!"

Tang San looked at Flender in disbelief, his eyes about to burst. "How could you..."

"Shut up!" Flender put away the card and glared at Tang San. "Everyone has the right to choose! We must respect Xiao Wu's choice!"

Tang San swayed, feeling like the whole world was spinning.

Betrayed by everyone.

Was this what it felt like to be betrayed by everyone?

"No... I'm not wrong... the world is wrong! You are wrong!"

Tang San suddenly looked up, his eyes scarlet like blood, Purple Demon Eye activated to its limit, two lines of blood tears flowing down his cheeks.

Since reason wouldn't work, he would solve it the Tang Sect way!

"Qian Mo! I want your life!!"

Tang San let out a beast-like roar and charged at Qian Mo without hesitation.

Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track Step!

Mysterious Jade Hand!

Controlling Crane Capturing Dragon!

He twisted his body strangely in the air, his right hand forming a claw, a fine needle as black as ink held between his fingertips.

King of Hell's Post!

This was the strongest poison weapon he could currently make, fatal upon contact, impossible for even a God to save!

"Die!!!"

Tang San's face contorted, channeling all his hatred into this single strike.

However.

Facing this fatal blow, Qian Mo didn't even activate his martial soul.

He simply stood in place, watching Tang San pounce like a mad dog, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes.

"Too slow."

Just as the King of Hell's Post was about to touch the corner of Qian Mo's clothes.

Qian Mo moved.

Not to dodge, but to attack.

He raised his right hand, striking faster than his opponent.

"Slap!!!"

An extremely crisp slapping sound echoed throughout Shrek Academy.

Time seemed to stand still.

Tang San's body, which had been charging forward, suddenly stopped in mid-air, then flew backward at twice the speed he had come.

He spun seven hundred and twenty degrees in the air, spitting out several bloody teeth, and crashed heavily into the most dilapidated male dormitory in the distance.

"Boom!"

The already crumbling wooden house collapsed completely.

Smoke and dust billowed.

Qian Mo took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his hands, as if what he had just slapped away wasn't a person, but a fly.

"Sneak attack? Poison?"

Qian Mo shook his head and casually threw the handkerchief on the ground.

"Tang San, this is all the capability you have."

He turned around and waved to Xiao Wu, Ning Rongrong, and Oscar, who were already stunned behind him.

"Let's go. Back to the temple."

"This place, filled with the stench of poverty and hypocrisy, I feel disgusted staying here for even a second longer."

Sunlight shone on Qian Mo's retreating back, casting a long shadow.

And in that ruin.

Tang San, covered in mud and with a face swollen like a pig's head, struggled to crawl out from under the broken wooden planks. He still clutched the unthrown King of Hell's Post tightly in his hand, looking in the direction Qian Mo and the others had left, his eyes filled with bone-deep venom.

"Qian Mo... Martial Soul Hall..."

Tang San ground his teeth, swallowing the remaining blood and saliva in his mouth.

"Today's humiliation, I will repay a hundredfold!"

"As long as I create the Buddha Fury Tang Lotus... As long as I..."

He lay in the muddy water, like a broken-backed dog, letting out a furious roar of incompetence.