This sudden turn of events did not change Hun Changqing's expression in the slightest. He reached out and seized the purple iron fan stabbing toward him, then sent a surge of pitch-black death qi from his hand, enveloping the fan as it trembled in his grip.
The instant the death qi engulfed it, the iron fan, forged from some unknown precious metal, twisted violently and withered. It then crumbled into grains of black powder that slipped between Hun Changqing's fingers and scattered across the gleaming Jade Stone floor. Meanwhile, his other hand had already picked up the copper fragment from the counter and put it into his Storage Ring.
Only after putting away the copper fragment did Hun Changqing slowly turn his head. His indifferent gaze followed the direction from which the purple fan had flown, settling on a young man standing a short distance away with Three Elders beside him.
Like Hun Changqing, the young man wore white, and his bearing was somewhat similar, exuding a soft, feminine air. His features were handsome and unnaturally alluring. Yet beside Hun Changqing, the difference was immediately apparent. It was as though Hun Changqing were the world's most perfect masterpiece, while this young man was merely a defective imitation riddled with flaws. The gulf between them was like that between clouds and mud.
The young man's eyes were slightly dazed, not only because Hun Changqing had just pulverized his folding fan, but because Hun Changqing's appearance had also struck him with tremendous force. Yet when he recalled how Hun Changqing had put away the copper fragment without hesitation, a shadow spread through his phoenix eyes, and his expression darkened. Still, he forcibly restrained his temper and addressed Hun Changqing.
"Heh, my friend, I saw your entire transaction with this old gentleman. I'm