In the capital of the Yulan Empire, inside an elegant, tranquil inn.
Shiheng sat by the window, his fingertips tapping the tabletop in a slow, leisurely rhythm, as though quietly awaiting an inevitable confrontation. Kelin Xiaoman sat attending him in silence, her delicate hand gently lifting a celadon teapot to pour him a cup of clear tea, its fragrance curling around them. Her expression was gentle, her whole bearing serene and untouched by worldly cares, seemingly belonging to an entirely different world from the bustling streets outside.
Earlier, on the main street, Shiheng had neither deliberately restrained nor concealed the pressure of his half-step to godhood. He had intended to display his strength and wait for those who followed to come demanding an explanation, so he could settle these trivial matters in one go.
Sure enough, barely a moment later, an incomparably powerful saint pinnacle aura, brimming with domineering arrogance, suddenly swept across the entire inn like a tsunami!
The surrounding air instantly congealed like iron. Heavy pressure crushed through the streets and alleys, sending every bird outside the window plummeting to the ground. Every passing pedestrian was forced to prostrate themselves beneath that immense presence, trembling all over and not daring even to draw a deep breath, terrified that the powerful aura might catch them and kill them.
Space twisted slightly, and an old man with white hair and beard, dressed in luxurious brocade robes, stepped out of thin air and landed firmly in the inn's courtyard. He was none other than Lin Cangxuan, the Lin Family patriarch of the Yulan Empire.
His gaze was sharp as a hawk's, its cold gleam sweeping across the entire inn before fixing firmly on Shiheng by the window. At first, a barely perceptible trace of apprehension flashed through his eyes. After all,