Chapter Twenty-Six: Song Changjing

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Cai Jin Jian stood like an untouchable, lofty mountain, cold winds piercing through the bones. She removed a precious ornament from her crown and casually tossed it to Su Ling.

A low, sharp sound cut through the air as Su Ling stretched out his hand, catching the swiftly flying gilded hairpin. His fingers pinched the exquisite piece, still trembling violently from the sudden flight.

“Little lady… I shall take my leave!” Cai Jin Jian no longer lingered in entanglement, seemingly accepting reality. She turned and walked away into the distance.

Passing by Fu Nanhua, who had been watching the scene unfold for some time, the once gracefully arched brows suddenly tightened into an unpleasant scowl.

Her originally stunning beauty now exuded a chilling sense of dread.

“Coward without a spine!”

Fu Nanhua didn’t believe that Cai Jin Jian’s earlier actions had gone unnoticed. The reason she hadn’t intervened was simply to avoid trouble.

“...”

Fu Nanhua remained silent for a moment, then cupped her hands in salute toward Su Ling, quickening her pace to follow closely behind Cai Jin Jian.

“Next,” Su Ling tossed the gilded hairpin carelessly to Chen Ping’an, who was still dazed nearby, without even glancing at Cai Jin Jian, who had left in a disheveled state after being reprimanded.

“Brother Su, isn’t this a bit inappropriate…” Chen Ping’an showed reluctance. After all, the hairpin in his hand was something Su Ling had arrogantly seized through sheer strength.

Although Cai Jin Jian’s beauty was undeniable, her unreasonable and quarrelsome nature made him dislike her.

But since she hadn’t inflicted any real harm on him yet, using this as a means of oppression and gain put honest Chen Ping’an in a difficult position.

Seeing Chen Ping’an’s inner resistance, Su Ling grew slightly exasperated but then thought that this was just another form of honest behavior.

“Enough. Just take it. Don’t overthink it. Consider it a belated gift from me for our meeting.”

At Su Ling’s words, Chen Ping’an forced a stiff smile. So that was why, not long ago, when Su Ling said anyone bullying him could just come to him for backup...

It turned out to be this kind of domineering help…

Chen Ping’an felt numb but nodded silently, signaling full understanding though not agreeing with the principle.

“Let’s go. Why are you still standing here dumbfounded?”

Su Ling reminded him, and Chen Ping’an, still frozen for a moment, then headed toward his own place.

Since descending the mountain, his thoughts had yet to be fully realized, but his mood was light, and his aura naturally relaxed.

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Chen Ping’an instinctively felt that Su Ling’s martial realm had markedly advanced just now.

In truth, it was merely the joy radiating from within due to his improved mood, even infecting Chen Ping’an.

It must be said that great strength influences everything—whether in choices made or the aura unintentionally exuded, it clearly affects the surrounding world.

This was one of the bonuses of becoming stronger. The summit of the mountain was yet to be climbed, but Su Ling was not content with that; in the future, he would face all manner of formidable foes.

Then, upon victory, he would relish the stunned gazes, condensing his supreme martial will...

Yet, just before arriving home, much of that joy dissipated, leaving only a trace of fierce resolve.

“Are you the brat who broke Song Jixin’s leg three years ago?”

A deep, unhidden, domineering voice came from the courtyard beside Chen Ping’an’s.

The voice carried a sharp killing intent, causing Chen Ping’an to freeze in shock, unwilling to move heedlessly.

Su Ling’s expression remained indifferent as he turned toward the sound, eyes fixing on the front of Song Jixin’s residence.

There stood a robust and imposing figure, like a mountain solid as bedrock.

The man wore a white jade robe, his gaze arrogant, his demeanor haughty, emanating an undeniable aura of pride and extraordinariness.

Unlike Chen Ping’an’s worldly shock, Su Ling showed a hint of disdain.

No guess was needed to identify the arrogant speaker.

He was none other than Song Changjing, the God of War commanding thousands of troops in the Great Li Dynasty—also known as Song One-Hand.

Only the name was mistaken; the title was spot on, referring to the unyielding pride of Song Changjing.

The title of God of War came from his martial realm reaching the pinnacle of the Divine Refining Mountain, with strength so rare across the entire Cauldron Continent that none could rival or resist him.

The nickname “Song One-Hand” originated when, upon entering the soon-to-collapse Lizhu Heavenly Cave, he brazenly declared that with his current power, he could single-handedly crush the Daoist Saint Qi Jingchun guarding the cave...

If the title God of War was somewhat accepted by Su Ling, the claim about Song One-Hand crushing the Confucian Fourteen Realms Saint Qi Jingchun was nothing more than a hellish joke.

Su Ling snorted but secretly admired the Great Li war god’s arrogance.

To be so recklessly proud, speaking without a hint of thought, was truly brainless.

To speak frankly, not even a single strand of Saint Qi Jingchun’s hair was something Song Changjing could handle.

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The Confucian Fourteen Realms’ transcendent cultivation was by no means as disappointing as Qi Jingchun’s portrayal in the original story.

If someone truly believed Qi Jingchun’s saintly title was undeserved, Su Ling might politely inform that frog in the well:

Great divine practitioners are like chess masters because most are best still rather than moving.

Once they act, they astonish the world like the imposing Way of Heaven, irresistibly crushing any challengers.

That was why few ever witnessed their battles.

Because the enemy would vanish completely into the river of time, leaving no trace of existence.

Su Ling was momentarily stunned. At that moment, Song One-Hand slowed his steps to stand about ten meters before him.

Accompanying him was the prince he had come to retrieve for the Great Li Dynasty, now a defeated dog—Song Jixin.

Seeing Su Ling’s gaze, Song Jixin looked away, his expression somewhat unnatural.

However, the maid Zhigui accompanying him appeared much more composed, her gaze steady and demeanor dignified.

“Hmph!”

Although Song Changjing did not turn around, he still detected Song Jixin’s cowardice and snorted coldly.

At that sound, Song Jixin’s face struggled with emotion but then lifted his head, chest out, his slightly trembling pupils reflecting Su Ling’s indifferent attitude.

“Quail pretending to be brave, what a disgrace!”

Song Changjing despised Song Jixin’s demeanor.

To be so fearful over a young warrior who had broken his leg three years ago was infuriating.

As the saying goes, a common man’s rage can spill blood three feet high; all the more so one holding supreme military power like the God of War.

Though he would not slay millions, his chillingly cold and suffocating killing intent was intense enough to turn Chen Ping’an’s face pale.

Seeing this, Su Ling frowned. He thought, this is merely a warrior—how dare he mouth off in his presence!

Su Ling let out a cold shout, and with it, his thick, extraordinary martial aura spread forth, instantly dispelling the killing intent emanating from Song Changjing.