Chapter Forty: A Swift and Decisive Battle

“My father, Shen Dabao, is the number one blade on Jianming Street!” Shen Wan clasped his hands behind his back, curled his lips, and wore a look of absolute arrogance.

“Who’s Shen Dabao? Number one blade on Jianming Street? How come I’ve never heard of him?” Gu Zhiping was genuinely taken aback by that claim, though he had no idea that Shen Wan’s father merely ran a pork stall outside their house, just a humble butcher.

Of course, Shen Wan cared nothing for those details. He shot a sidelong glance at Lin Bufan and the others, jerked his chin, and said, “Let’s go.”

With that, he turned around and swaggered off, ready to leave in style.

Only then did Gu Zhiping snap back to his senses. He bared his teeth and said, “Go? Did I say you could leave?”

Before his words had even faded, he spread his hand, and a faint purple flame leapt into his palm. With a flick of his sleeve, the flame shot straight at Shen Wan.

Shen Wan couldn’t see the flame, but Lin Bufan could. Lin Bufan merely widened his eyes—the fire erupted in midair before his hand had even moved.

There was a loud bang, and then a streak of sword light pierced the remnants of the flame, heading straight for Gu Zhiping’s face.

Gu Zhiping had no time to react. Just as the sword light neared his forehead, a hand appeared before him in an instant and crushed the sword light effortlessly.

A backlash surged forth, and Lin Bufan was sent stumbling backward by the shock, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

The scene fell silent at once. That exchange had taken place in the blink of an eye, like lightning and sparks. Yet the oppressive force that erupted from it drove the crowd back a step.

“Foundation Establishment?” Lin Bufan’s gaze landed on the guard who had intervened for Gu Zhiping—a cultivator in the Foundation Establishment stage. His eyes swept over the other three guards, and his heart sank.

Foundation Establishment was an entire realm above Spirit Condensation, and there were four of them on the opposing side. Clearly, today’s incident would not end peacefully.

Behind him, Zhu Qianqing and Han Yuechan both drew their swords and, with a flash, appeared at Shen Wan’s side.

A sudden tension hung in the air. Shen Wan sensed it too, though he hadn’t seen the exchange between the others. His mind was a complete muddle over what had just happened.

He sidled up to Lin Bufan and murmured, “What’s going on?”

Lin Bufan’s brow was tightly knit as he replied in a low voice, “Little Uncle, later you should leave first and go find the other elders. Things have gotten a bit complicated.”

It was forbidden to fight inside Cloudy Serenity City, and Lin Bufan was well aware of this. But the other side was clearly reckless—who knew what might happen? Sending his Little Uncle back to alert the elders was for both his safety and to get the elders involved where necessary.

But as Lin Bufan turned around, Shen Wan caught sight of the blood at the corner of Lin Bufan’s mouth, and his own brow furrowed. Regardless of how the sides had exchanged blows, his own man had been hurt—he could hardly pretend not to see it.

With a shove, he moved Lin Bufan aside and strode to the center of the crowd, radiating menace.

“Who did this?”

This was the first time since arriving in this world that Shen Wan had been truly angered.

Gu Zhiping looked down on Shen Wan with disdain, motioned with his chin at the guard who had just shielded him, and said, “Fighting is forbidden here—make it quick and give them a lesson.”

With that, he turned and went back into the shop to ask his clerk for money.

The guard rolled his neck, emitting a series of cracks.

Descending the steps, his movements seemed slow, yet in a blink he was standing before Shen Wan, leaving a row of afterimages in his wake.

Lin Bufan’s heart dropped. At this distance, he couldn’t possibly get between his Little Uncle and the threat in time.

The onlookers tensed, feeling the chill in the air. But Shen Wan appeared oblivious. Seeing the other arrive in the blink of an eye, he stuck to the reliable principle of striking first. Without a word of warning, he swung a punch straight at the man.

“That’s what you get for bullying my people!”

To the guard, this punch seemed slow, with no spiritual energy at all. A mortal’s fist—what difference could it make besides a tickle? That was his last coherent thought before his mind was rattled into confusion.

The instant Shen Wan’s fist connected with his face, a searing pain shot straight to his skull. His pupils shrank, and his head snapped back, twin streams of blood arcing through the dazzling sunlight in perfect parabolas.

They were so close that the guard had no chance to react. And Shen Wan had put all his strength into that punch—he almost shattered the man’s nose.

But the guard was Foundation Establishment after all, and his reaction was swift. Enduring the agony in his nose, he flooded his feet with spiritual energy, launching the Gale Step technique to escape the attack’s range.

Yet, though the energy was there and the technique invoked, his body didn’t move an inch.

He squinted, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye—Shen Wan had seized him by the collar.

It was uncanny—utterly baffling. The guard couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

But Shen Wan gave him no time to puzzle it out—the second punch followed.

The guard, already dazed, had no awareness left to resist. As a cultivator, he had no real concept of close-quarters combat.

“Bone Armor!”

“Gale Step! Step! Step!”

“Turtle Shell Technique!”

“Earthquake Strike!”

He poured out spiritual power, unleashing one technique after another, but none of them worked on Shen Wan. Tears and blood mingled in the air, and when they looked at Shen Wan’s face, he was pure devil.

Shen Wan, for his part, was enjoying himself immensely, his fists raining down without mercy, each blow landing squarely on the guard’s face.

The crowd fell silent again, every jaw dropped in shock.

Who could have imagined a youth with no cultivation grabbing a Foundation Establishment expert and delivering a one-sided, merciless beating?

The guard gritted his teeth with all his might, not making a single sound before passing out on the spot.

Shen Wan tossed the battered guard to the ground, rubbing his wrist and panting heavily.

“Damn, that was exhausting.”

Behind him, Lin Bufan stared dumbfounded at his Little Uncle’s imposing figure, finally slapping his own forehead.

“How did I not realize—he’s the real loose cannon here…”

Meanwhile, Zhu Qianqing and Han Yuechan still held their swords at the ready, but it seemed they wouldn’t need to act. Zhu Qianqing was calm, having witnessed Shen Wan’s abilities before, but Han Yuechan’s beautiful eyes were wide in shock, her expression mirroring the stunned crowd.

Inside the shop, the clerk was counting spirit stones, while Gu Zhiping lounged in a grand armchair, sipping spiritual tea. Three guards stood ramrod straight by his side.

Outside, except for a few dull thuds, there was no commotion. Soon, all was quiet.

But this quiet only meant the crowd was too stunned to make a sound.

To Gu Zhiping, though, it was proof that his men had settled things.

“Hmph, ignorant ants—how dare they challenge me?”

He sipped his tea with a flourish, feeling quite satisfied.

The shop clerk handed the tallied spirit stones to one of the guards and bowed repeatedly to Gu Zhiping in apology.

Seeing that everything had been taken care of, Gu Zhiping prepared to leave with his guards.

“In the future, keep those mongrel eyes of yours open before you do business. Not everyone’s money is yours to cheat.”

He tossed the clerk a disdainful remark. The clerk nodded like a pecking chicken, not daring to utter a word.

He watched the group leave with forced cheerfulness, cursing them silently, but daring not let his smile falter for an instant.

Just as they were about to exit, the clerk finally relaxed.

But before he could exhale fully, a figure strode in to meet Gu Zhiping and his men.

It was Shen Wan, dressed in black robes, holding a stick in his hand as he stepped into the shop.

“Hm?”

Gu Zhiping and his men halted in confusion. Shen Wan looked perfectly unscathed, his skin smooth and fair—no sign of injury, not even a scratch. Only his hand seemed a little swollen…

“Wasn’t this brat supposed to be beaten half to death?” Gu Zhiping was baffled. Somehow, things weren’t following the script—this result was nothing like what he’d expected.

But Shen Wan cared nothing for that. He turned to Lin Bufan and the others outside and called out, “Watch the door. I’m going to deal with the dogs inside.”

With that, he calmly closed the shop door and slid the bolt.

Swinging his stick, he turned back to the group before him, raised his eyes, and smiled.

“So, who’s first?”