Sixty years were enough to turn all those young geniuses of the past into dry bones, or feeble old men on the verge of death.
Yet she still looked exactly as she had back then. In fact, as her vitality and blood grew ever more terrifying, her beauty had become even more breathtaking than before.
"Let's go take a look. After sixty-six years of seclusion, it's time to see what the secular Martial Dao has become."
Su Yueli murmured softly.
This time, she did not put on that conspicuous black robe, so easily recognized.
She rummaged through her Storage Pouch, took out a cold white mask carved with patterns, and fastened it over her face.
She had always kept masks on hand for convenience's sake, but had never used one.
Then she stepped forward, her figure turning into a blurred afterimage as she raced at full speed toward the Great Li Imperial City.
"..."
Along the way, Su Yueli suddenly recalled the Pang Family of old. Back then, the moment the two sides met, it had been a life-or-death struggle with no room for compromise.
Yet the Pang Family's patriarch, a towering figure in the mortal world—a Peak Eighth Realm martial artist—had ultimately died by her hand.
A full sixty years had passed. By now, the Pang Family had most likely long forgotten her.
Mortals had short lifespans. By her reckoning, those who had seen her and hated her back then were probably all lying beneath the earth now.
Although the Pang Family had cultivators within it as well, they were all mediocre juniors. At most, they possessed the strength of the Third or Fourth Realm.
In the past, when she was weak, she had needed to avoid their edge. Now that she could fight head-on, she naturally did not