You're Xiao Wu, Right? Hello.

Ning Rongrong's Wind Empress Qimen was already powerful enough. Attack, control, spatial displacement, elemental manipulation—one soul skill covered nearly every dimension of combat.

Only healing was missing.

And now, that gap had been filled.

If Ning Rongrong learned this healing soul skill as well...

Attack, control, support, healing. Four in one.

Perfect.

Zhu Zhuqing clenched her hand inside her sleeve. Her gaze shifted away from Yang Xing and fell upon her own palm.

If she could learn even one of them too.

Even just one.

Then when facing Zhu Zhuyun, perhaps she would no longer have to keep running, keep hiding, keep waiting for that chance to overtake her that might never come.

Nor would she have to place her hopes on... that runaway dandy?

Out of the corner of her eye, Zhu Zhuqing glanced at Dai Mubai, who was not far away.

His expression was the worst among them all.

Yang Xing was currently crouching with Ning Rongrong, speaking to her in a low voice. Judging by the direction, Ning Rongrong occasionally pointed in his direction.

They were talking about him.

They were definitely talking about him.

Dai Mubai's Adam's apple bobbed.

Yang Xing had caught Li Yusong's full-force staff strike with one hand. Then he had sent him flying with a single kick, and he still had not gotten back up.

If Ning Rongrong complained about him.

If Yang Xing freed up his hands now...

Dai Mubai glanced toward the cloud of dust at the edge of the field. Li Yusong was still there. His position had changed from lying flat on his back to lying on his side, seemingly struggling to rise, but he had not succeeded.

A level-sixty-three Soul Emperor.

Kicked into such a state with one blow.

Was Ning Rongrong's mysterious master truly that strong?

Or was Teacher Li, this Soul Emperor, simply that weak?

Bitterness filled Dai Mubai's mouth. He knew the answer.

The next second.

Ning Rongrong stammered something to Yang Xing, then glanced in Dai Mubai's direction.

Yang Xing stood up.

Dai Mubai's body tightened like a drawn bowstring.

Yang Xing took a step.

He walked toward him.

Dai Mubai's breathing stopped for half a beat. The chill and fear in his evil eyes intertwined as the muscles in his limbs instinctively tensed, preparing for defense.

Yang Xing's steps were casual. His half-lidded eyes swept past Dai Mubai's position.

Then...

He walked right past him.

He passed him directly.

He did not even spare him an extra glance.

As though he were a stone by the roadside.

Dai Mubai froze. The feeling of being completely ignored was even more infuriating than getting beaten up, but at that moment, all he felt was the relief of surviving a disaster.

Yang Xing did not stop.

He walked straight toward the rabbit-tailed girl shrinking behind Tang San.

Xiao Wu.

With every step Yang Xing took closer, Xiao Wu's pupils widened.

The instinctive alarm of a hundred-thousand-year soul beast screamed in her mind.

This person was not human.

She gripped Tang San's hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her body was rigid, and her legs felt as though they had been filled with lead.

Yang Xing stopped.

Less than two meters away from Xiao Wu.

Moonlight shone on his face, which still bore lipstick marks. Half of one shoulder was exposed outside his robe, his hair was a mess, and his entire demeanor was utterly slovenly.

Yet this very person smiled at Xiao Wu.

"You're Xiao Wu, right? Hello."

His voice was gentle, his tone friendly.

Like an older brother next door greeting a little sister.

Ordinary.

Polite.

But Xiao Wu froze in place as if she had been drenched in ice water. Her large eyes were wide open, and something deep in her pupils trembled violently.

Tang San sensed that something was wrong with Xiao Wu.

Her hand was trembling. Her whole body was trembling.

Tang San did not think much of it.

His left foot stepped forward.

His body moved ahead, attempting to completely shield Xiao Wu from Yang Xing.

But before that step could land—

"Stop."

One sentence.

It drifted from Yang Xing's mouth.

His voice was not loud.

It was even gentle.

But Tang San's raised foot froze.

His entire body froze.

He had not chosen to stop himself. His body had simply gone completely out of his control.

It was as though an invisible giant hand had pressed down from above, nailing every inch of his muscles, every tendon, and every joint firmly in place.

He could not move.

Tang San's pupils contracted sharply.

He tried to mobilize his soul power. Blue Silver Grass stirred within him, yet it was as though something had sealed off its exit. Not even the slightest trace of it could be released.

His eyes darted wildly.

He could not turn his neck, lift his arms, or even bend a finger.

Only his eyes could still move.

Tang San's gaze locked tightly onto the figure's back before him.

The back of Yang Xing's head was less than a meter from his eyes. He could clearly see the loose robe, the few strands of messy hair sticking up, even a faint pink lip print on the back of his neck.

This kind of control.

It was not suppression by a soul skill.

It was not a mental attack.

It was some kind of power he could not understand at all, acting directly upon his body. As if the rules of this world itself were restraining him.

A confusion he had never felt before, along with fear of the unknown, climbed up from the base of his spine.

Yang Xing turned his head slightly.

Those lazy eyes glanced at Tang San from the side, wearing an ordinary smile.

"Be a polite child."

Yang Xing's voice was light.

"Don't interrupt when others are talking."

Tang San remained frozen in that posture.

Yang Xing, however, no longer paid attention to him. He turned back and faced Xiao Wu again, revealing what he believed was a gentle smile.

Xiao Wu stood frozen in place.

Yang Xing's smile hung on his face less than two meters away from her. Gentle, friendly, like some idle youth from the next street greeting her.

But her body was betraying her.

Every bone in her body trembled. Every inch of skin tightened.

The hundred-thousand-year survival instinct had turned into a shrill siren that flooded her skull, repeating only one word.

Run.

Run.

But she could not run.

Tang San had been immobilized. The person she trusted most stood behind her like a statue, unable to move.

Xiao Wu used every ounce of strength in her body to tug at her facial muscles. The corners of her mouth pulled outward.

A smile.

A smile so stiff that one could almost hear the sound of her facial muscles tearing.

"H-Hello." Her voice squeezed out from her throat, dry as sandpaper scraping iron. "Is there something you need?"

Yang Xing tilted his head. Looking at Xiao Wu's pale face and smile uglier than tears, he understood perfectly.

A hundred-thousand-year Soft Bone Rabbit.

Not to mention that he was already a Titled Douluo and could tell at a glance, could sense that Xiao Wu's aura and presence differed from those of ordinary humans.

Besides, he had read the original novel.

But he had no intention of exposing anything now.

He had only come closer out of curiosity.

After all, seeing a fantasy character brought to life—especially such an adorable hundred-thousand-year-old rabbit spirit who had taken human form—was rather interesting.

As for afterward, that was harder to say.

"It's nothing major." Yang Xing spoke casually and tilted his chin toward the people behind him. "My good disciple told me that when she was being chased and attacked earlier, you were the only one there who kept wanting to help her."

He smiled. "I came to thank you personally."