"I Am Xiao Yan, the Xiao Yan Who Reached Eight-Star Dou Fighter at Eleven!"

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Xiao Zhan's pupils contracted sharply. Dou Qi surged around him as he prepared to intervene.

Ge Ye reacted even faster. With a flash, he stood between Xiao Zhan and the young man. Greenwood Dou Qi gathered in his palm. Though he had yet to strike, he had already cut off every route by which Xiao Zhan could offer aid.

The smile on his face remained gentle, but his eyes had turned cold.

If Xiao Zhan dared to make a move, he would not stand by and watch.

A glint of golden light flashed through Xiao Xun'er's eyes. Dou Qi circulated within her as she prepared to block the attack.

But a voice was faster than her.

"A piece of trash like you—what right do you have to interrupt when we're speaking?"

The voice was domineering and icy, carrying a lofty disdain, as though the Misty Cloud Sect elite who was a Five-Star Dou Practitioner was nothing more than a noisy ant in his eyes.

Xiao Yan did not even lift his head.

His aura abruptly soared. Dou Qi burst from his body like floodwaters breaking through a dam, and the pressure of a Four-Star Dou Practitioner instantly swept through the entire hall.

A Four-Star Dou Practitioner.

This sudden turn of events made everyone present widen their eyes.

Xiao Yan, who had been crippled for three years and whom everyone had deemed beyond hope, had actually revealed the strength of a Four-Star Dou Practitioner at this very moment.

Xiao Yan threw a punch without even turning around.

Eight Extremes Collapse.

Eight hidden forces, wrapped in scorching fist wind, crashed fiercely against the young man's fist like raging waves piling atop one another.

Bang!

A dull impact exploded through the hall. A blast wave swept in every direction, making the cups and dishes on the tables clatter.

The young man's expression shifted from fury to shock, then from shock to terror—he only managed to see a fist before his whole body was sent flying backward like a kite with its string cut, slamming heavily into the wall of the hall.

The bricks in the wall shattered, and spiderweb-like cracks spread outward from the point of impact.

The young man fell to the ground and spat out a mouthful of blood. His face was pale as paper, his eyes filled with disbelief.

One punch. A Five-Star Dou Practitioner, heavily injured.

The hall fell deathly silent.

Every gaze turned in unison toward Xiao Yan, including Nalan Yanran's stunned eyes, Ge Ye's frozen smile, the three elders' utterly grim expressions, Xiao Zhan's delighted gaze, and the young men and women who had just been whispering and gloating.

The same thought arose in everyone's mind: Wasn't he only at Three-Level Dou Zhi Qi? How could one punch heavily injure a Five-Star Dou Practitioner?

More than ten seconds passed before someone finally found their voice.

"H-How is that possible?" No one knew who spoke first, but then the hall erupted as whispers turned into waves of shocked cries.

"A Four-Star Dou Practitioner! Young Master Xiao Yan is a Four-Star Dou Practitioner!"

"Wasn't he crippled? When did he recover?"

"Three years... from Three-Level Dou Zhi Qi to a Four-Star Dou Practitioner in three years? What kind of speed is that?"

Xiao Xun'er gazed at Xiao Yan's straight back, her eyes gleaming with wonder.

She had finally seen that boy again—not the gentle youth who had lain dormant for three years, but the Xiao Yan who had made the entire younger generation of the Xiao Clan fear him when he was only nine.

He had returned, in a way she had never expected.

"Yan'er!"

Xiao Zhan's voice trembled, his eyes brimming with delight.

He did not even spare Ge Ye another glance as he strode toward Xiao Yan. He wanted to reach out and pat his son's shoulder, but his hand stopped halfway, as if afraid that this was all an illusion that would shatter at the slightest touch.

The three elders, however, looked exceptionally grim.

They exchanged glances and saw the same thing in one another's eyes—fear.

For three years, they had opposed Xiao Zhan at every turn and suppressed Xiao Yan at every opportunity.

They had withheld cultivation resources, mocked him at clan assemblies, and had even privately discussed stripping Xiao Yan of his position as young clan leader and driving him out of the Xiao Clan.

They had only dared to do so because Xiao Yan had been crippled, with no possibility of ever rising again.

But now, Xiao Yan had not only recovered, he had also displayed strength far beyond that of his peers.

A Four-Star Dou Practitioner. A fifteen-year-old Four-Star Dou Practitioner.

They were finished.

"Xiao Yan, you weren't crippled?" Nalan Yanran finally snapped back to her senses. Her face was livid, and there was a tremor in her voice that even she had not noticed.

"I was."

Xiao Yan picked up the written divorce letter from the table and blew on the still-wet ink. His tone was as calm as if he were recounting an unrelated event from the past. "But I recovered."

He folded the divorce letter and flicked his hand. The sheet of paper drifted through the air like a white butterfly, tracing an arc before landing steadily in Nalan Yanran's hand.

"I am Xiao Yan. The Xiao Yan who reached Eight-Star Dou Fighter at eleven."

There was no boastfulness or deliberate showmanship in his tone, only a confidence and arrogance that came naturally from his bones, as though it were merely a simple fact not worth wasting words over.

Nalan Yanran lowered her head to look at the large words "Divorce Letter" written on the paper in her hand, and the expression on her face finally broke.

"Xiao Yan, you actually dare to divorce me?"

Her voice sharpened, and her fingers trembled slightly with rage.

She abruptly drew the longsword at her waist. Its blade glinted with cold light beneath the sun as wind-attributed Dou Qi gathered upon it, making even the air seem sharp.

With a swing of her sword.

A sharp sword aura slashed out from the blade, flying toward Xiao Yan in the shape of a half-moon.

Wherever the sword aura passed, it carved a deep groove through the bluestone floor, scattering chips of stone.

Low Mystic Tier Dou Technique, Wind Profound Slash.

Xiao Yan's expression did not change. Dou Qi surged around him and gathered in his right fist. Fire-attributed Dou Qi wrapped around it like molten lava, and the scorching heat distorted the air around him.

Flame Burst Fist.

His fist collided with the sword aura, erupting with a tremendous shockwave.

Flames and wind blades tore at each other in the air before exploding. Heat and sharp force spread outward, whipping everyone's robes until they snapped in the wind.

Nalan Yanran was forced back more than ten steps by the attack. Each step left a deep footprint in the bluestone floor. Only when her back struck a pillar did she stop, the hand holding her sword trembling slightly as blood seeped from the web between her thumb and forefinger.

Xiao Yan did not move an inch.

He had not even taken half a step back, maintaining his punching stance as the fiery Dou Qi on his fist slowly faded.

If not for the lingering red glow on his hand, everyone would have nearly believed that the strike just now had been an illusion.

"There isn't enough room to fight here." Xiao Yan withdrew his fist, sweeping his gaze across the crowded hall. Dou Qi suddenly erupted beneath his feet. "We fight outside."

The instant he used Explosive Step, the bluestone beneath his feet shattered into countless fragments. He shot out of the hall like an arrow released from a bow, moving so fast that only an afterimage remained in everyone's eyes.

Nalan Yanran gritted her teeth, sheathed her sword, and chased after him.

Ge Ye did not even have time to examine the disciple whom Xiao Yan had heavily injured with one punch. Dou Qi surged beneath his feet as he pursued them.

Xiao Zhan, the three elders, and everyone in the hall rushed out the doors without hesitation.

In the open space of the rear courtyard, Xiao Yan slowly came to a stop and turned around.

Sunlight fell upon him without obstruction, gilding his black robes with a faint golden glow. He stood there straight and tall, like a pine rooted in the earth, unyielding despite wind and rain.

Nalan Yanran caught up and stopped ten paces away from him. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing still uneven.

She was not tired—a Three-Star Dou Practitioner's stamina was not so poor. She was suppressing it, suppressing the shock brought by that punch and the humiliation brought by that divorce letter.