Lu Changsheng stood in the center of the ruins. His figure looked stooped, yet he was like an insurmountable mountain.
"Hoo—haa—"
With every breath he took, the surrounding air trembled.
"How is this possible? His vitality was clearly failing. How does he still have this kind of strength?"
The powerful figures of Linjiang County's many professions stood atop tall buildings or hid in the shadows, watching the Dragon Gate Escort Agency with wary faces.
They had thought a pack of wolves would devour an old lion tonight.
Instead, the old lion was not dead. He had bared even sharper fangs.
"So this is... the bearing of a Grandmaster?"
On the roof of the True Martial Gate's Martial Arts Hall, its master, Liu Beixuan, murmured to himself.
Below a Grandmaster, every step demanded a kowtow.
Lu Changsheng had told everyone with iron-hard fact that as long as he drew breath, the sky over Linjiang County still belonged to the Lu family.
"No need to wait for a brilliant heir. I'll tread through snow to the mountaintop myself."
Cheng Jingyun stood on the roof of the Eight Trigrams Gate's Martial Arts Hall opposite him, his eyes burning with a heat they had never held before.
"Lu Changsheng is over three hundred years old, with half his body already in the grave, yet his blood still runs this hot. His courage hasn't faded since his prime."
"If we youngsters, barely past a hundred, won't strive and fight for a future, what excuse do we have?"
His words struck a chord with many of his peers.
Lu Changsheng ignored the eyes watching him and stood at ease. The copper-coin braid behind him stirred without wind, like a venomous snake waiting to strike.
Facing his remaining enemies, he gave no ground. He stepped forward, and