Chapter Six: Song Jixin

Outside the house, Chen Ping'an looked toward Su Ling with a worried expression, his lips moving as if he had more to say.

"Brother Su, those aristocratic youths are simply going too far with their bullying..."

Hearing this, Su Ling couldn't help but chuckle. This naive lad was actually standing up for him—it was truly a first for him, an eye-opening experience.

"It’s alright. Those mundane mortals aren't capable of harming me. You’d best worry about yourself instead."

"After all, I’m afraid I’ve implicated you in this."

"Brother Su, don't say such things. I may not have many talents, but I am loyal. Besides, they are in the wrong; even if this blows up, they won't have an easy time of it."

Chen Ping'an's words brought a sense of relief to Su Ling. With a personality like that, he would surely suffer setbacks sooner or later. However, as long as he was present, he would help whenever he could.

Just as Su Ling was about to soothe the headstrong Chen Ping'an and head inside, he suddenly felt the sensation of being watched.

Su Ling followed the feeling, glancing over the earthen wall, and discovered that the observer was none other than Song Jixin.

Seemingly aware that he had been spotted, Song Jixin did not act timidly. Dressed in gilded silk robes, he unfolded an ink-washed fan with one hand, looking toward Su Ling with a faint, enigmatic smile.

Seeing this, Su Ling frowned slightly. It was highly likely that Song Jixin was the mastermind behind the rumors regarding his martial arts cultivation.

As the saying goes, revenge should not be delayed overnight, especially when they were neighbors. Su Ling dismissed the bewildered Chen Ping'an and walked straight toward Song Jixin's residence.

The old earthen gate stood open. Even from a distance, Su Ling could smell the scent of poultry drifting through the air.

This smell lacked the fishy stench of ordinary farm birds; instead, it had an almost appetizing quality. This was due to the expensive feed used, but more importantly, the unique geography.

It could only be said that the Li-Zhu Cave Heaven was filled with treasures; even a blade of the most common wild grass, if placed in the outside world, would be considered a decade-old medicinal herb.

Su Ling paid no mind to these things. As he stepped into the courtyard, Song Jixin appeared before him.

"Kid, what do you want?"

Though it was a question, the tone was assertive. It was clear that Song Jixin already knew why Su Ling had come, and he made no effort to hide his arrogance.

Su Ling swept a casual glance over the tall, refined young man. His skin was like precious jade, and he radiated an inviolable air of nobility. Yet, accompanying it was an arrogance that seemed rooted in his very bones.

In one corner of the front courtyard stood a small, hand-built wooden cabin. At that moment, a seductive maid was holding a feed tray, scattering grain to the fluffy yellow chicks.

"You did it."

Su Ling skipped the pleasantries and confronted the arrogant palace-born youth directly.

Song Jixin raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his long, slightly sinister eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Song Jixin was clearly playing dumb. Although he had indeed done it, as long as there was no hard evidence, this "mud-legged" peasant could do nothing to him.

Su Ling remained silent for a moment. Then, just as he took a step forward, a dark figure suddenly materialized before him.

The tall, imposing figure blocked the space between Su Ling and Song Jixin.

"What is your game? Looking for a fight?"

Song Jixin played the thief crying "stop thief," feigning that he was the one being harassed despite knowing full well he was in the wrong.

"Do you know? You have many fine qualities, but you are narrow-minded. You simply cannot tolerate anyone living a happier life than your own."

"What?"

Su Ling’s words successfully provoked Song Jixin. While he didn't grasp the full meaning, the naturally gifted Song Jixin was sharp enough to detect the underlying implication.

Was this peasant implying that he lacked breadth of character—that he was a petty villain?

Realizing this, Song Jixin let out a cold snort, his eyes filled with hostility as he looked at Su Ling.

"Fine. If you’ve come looking for trouble, then—see him out!"

"As you command!"

The dark figure before Song Jixin let out a crisp, powerful roar. Then, exerting force from his feet, he tore through the air like a ghostly afterimage, charging straight at Su Ling.

As the sound of the air being torn apart approached, Su Ling showed no reaction, appearing as if he had been stunned by the terrifying sight.

In reality, however, while this dark figure appeared fast as lightning and swift as the wind to an ordinary person, to Su Ling, he was moving like a crawling snail.

Even though a sandbag-sized fist was less than a meter from his face, he did not flinch in the slightest!

Su Ling did not use his full strength; he employed the power of only a single finger. The moment his fingertip touched the fist, a deafening sound, like the explosion of a grenade, erupted from the point of contact.

Simultaneously, the fist of the dark figure—apparently Song Jixin's servant—began to vibrate violently.

Following that, it burst apart with a boom, much like a water-filled balloon being pricked.

Bone fragments mixed with mangled flesh sprayed in a fan shape, clattering toward Song Jixin like bullets.

As for the owner of the fist, he had already collapsed to the ground. While not immediately dead, he was breathing his last, in a near-fatal state.

"What!"

This horrific scene unfolded in an instant. Song Jixin, a mere mortal of flesh and blood, had only just reacted when his capable servant collapsed, his fate unknown.

As for the deadly, bullet-like debris, it struck an invisible protective barrier and was blocked entirely, leaving a thick layer of blood and gore on the ground at their feet.

Song Jixin was stunned, his pupils contracting, his face filled with disbelief as he looked at the calm, indifferent Su Ling.

It was as if Su Ling had merely crushed an insect—it was all so effortless.

Seeing this, Song Jixin lost his composure. He uncharacteristically recalled that dark chapter of his past when he had nearly been strangled to death by Chen Ping'an.

"You... how is your strength so powerful?"

A sharp voice rang out. Su Ling, his face cold, did not deign to reply. If not for the town's rules, no one present would have survived the day.

Though he preferred a quiet life, he was not a blockhead who would wait for trouble to arrive before striking back.

He possessed a flexible moral compass: if others did not provoke him, he remained indifferent. But the moment they endangered him, then he was sorry—he would play for keeps!

"Ah~!"

A seductive shriek echoed through Mud Bottle Alley. The owner of the voice was currently hiding behind Song Jixin, feigning extreme terror.

This piercing sound shocked Song Jixin out of his stupor. He quickly composed his expression, calming himself, though his eyes remained dark and indecisive.

He knew the strength of his fallen servant well. To be blunt, an ordinary martial artist—even one at the Mercury Realm—could not have dealt with him so easily.

Furthermore, the suppression of the Heavenly Dao here was severe; even if one possessed heaven-defying abilities in the outside world, they would retain less than a tenth of their power here. Dragons had to coil, and tigers had to crouch.

Yet, Song Jixin had never imagined that Su Ling’s current strength was sufficient to crush his servant like an ant.

Just as Song Jixin fell into deep thought, a large number of professional bodyguards, who had been hidden in the shadows, stepped out and collectively appeared in the vast courtyard.