"I thought they were fledglings I could handle easily. Who would have thought their martial uncles were here too..."
Chen Zhisheng frowned. He could not afford to provoke disciples of major sects. Even if they were all at Foundation Establishment, one hand would probably be enough for them to deal with him.
In his years of cultivation, Chen Zhisheng had once provoked a female cultivator from the Immortal Sects who had just reached Foundation Establishment.
He had thought someone so young would be easy to bully. Little had he known that people like her were the cherished darlings of their elders and the jewels in the palms of great aristocratic families. Without another word, she had unleashed a magic treasure of Ten Jia caliber!
Had Old Chen not greased his soles and fled fast enough, he might have met his end right there.
From then on, he had understood that no matter how a rogue cultivator like him defied heaven to change his fate, he could never rival those favored sons and daughters of heaven. When he encountered them, he had to keep a low profile and tread carefully, never confronting them head-on.
The rough-and-tumble cultivation world had its share of powerful figures. Its true experts could likewise look down upon sect disciples, but it produced experts at a far lower rate than the great sects. Unfortunately, he was considerably weaker than even an ordinary rogue cultivator.
"But I'm not going to clash with them head-on. Why should I fear them?"
On second thought, Chen Zhisheng cast those concerns beyond the ninth heaven.
His survival strategy was to run when he could not win, and kneel and beg for mercy when he could not outrun his pursuers. Theft had never had anything to do with direct combat. It relied on