Was he being threatened?
Right here on the streets of Chang'an City?
It was the first time Chen Xiaojun had encountered such an overbearing Soul Master.
Every noble scion he had met before had acted cautiously, their words and bearing revealing fine manners and breeding.
If not for the scene before him, he would have thought he might never witness such a melodramatic spectacle in his lifetime.
A faint, amused smile curved his lips. His indifferent gaze swept over the man with side-swept bangs, as though the fellow were merely a speck of dust in the air, unworthy of another word.
Zhu Wuneng, however, loved joining in the commotion. He immediately chimed in, "Hey, didn't your elders teach you to keep your tail tucked between your legs here in Chang'an City?"
His words carried a measure of mockery and teasing.
The man's expression darkened at that, and he replied coldly, "Hmph. As a matter of fact, no one has."
Defiance and arrogance flashed in his eyes. Clearly, he had not taken Chen Xiaojun and his companions entirely seriously.
Chen Xiaojun's carriage was rather understated. From a distance, it hardly looked like it belonged to a wealthy household.
Carriages in this world leaned toward Western styles, almost invariably favoring lavish, ostentatious designs. Families like the Chen Clan, accustomed to keeping a low profile and favoring understated luxury, were relatively rare.
The man had a perverse disposition. Seeing Chen Xiaojun and his companions approach as the fighting spread, he could not help growing impatient.
He had intended to drive them away with a casual strike. Whether they lived or died did not concern him in the slightest.
Unexpectedly, when that seemingly ordinary, burly coachman made his move, he revealed the strength of a Soul Emperor-and a defensive one at that.
Only then