Chen Ping was with her, feeding the fish, watching her smile like a child, her eyes curving with joy, and the long-frozen corner of his heart quietly began to thaw.
He had never imagined that, beyond the clash of swords and blades, there could be a scene in this world that could slow time itself.
Until a chilling, murderous aura suddenly tore through the air, dimming the shimmering light by the lake.
“Chen Ping!”
A furious roar exploded like thunder. Sang Qi, his black armour stained with blood, aimed the chilling gleam of his Shura Blade directly at Chen Ping’s back.
He had clearly been tracking them for some time, his aura wild and volatile, like a volcano about to erupt, his blood-red eyes locked onto Chen Ping as if he would devour him alive, “Give me back my brother’s life!”
“Who are you?” Chen Ping asked, looking at Sang Qi.
“Shura Hall, Sang Qi. The Sang Kun you killed was my brother!”
With that, Sang Qi swung his Shura Blade in a fierce arc.
Mo Qingyun’s face paled, instinctively pushing Chen Ping back, but the blade’s wind grazed her, instantly tearing a gash in her sleeve.
Chen Ping’s eyes turned cold. He raised an arm to shield Mo Qingyun, while his other hand gripped the Dragon-Slaying Sword, meeting the Shura Blade’s edge head-on.
“Clang…!”
The clash of metal reverberated, sending ripples across the lake’s surface, the koi fish diving to the bottom in fright.
Sang Qi was forced back three steps, his palm splitting open, blood trickling out, yet his eyes burned with even greater madness, “You’ve got some skill! But today, you die!”
His blade stance shifted, transforming into a storm of blade shadows, each strike infused with Shura Hall’s secret killing techniques, every move deadly.
Chen Ping’s steps were subtle, his figure weaving through the blade shadows like a phantom.
He wasn’t fighting at full strength, partly to protect Mo Qingyun, partly to test the mettle of Shura Hall’s eldest young master.
But Sang Qi’s attacks grew increasingly reckless, ignoring his own vulnerabilities, clearly intent on mutual destruction.
“Reckless fool.”
Chen Ping let out a cold snort, no longer holding back.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword blazed with golden light, transforming into a golden dragon that slashed down at the Shura Blade.
With a “pfft,” the energy blade effortlessly cut through the Shura Blade’s aura, its momentum unrelenting as it struck Sang Qi’s shoulder, shattering his black armour and sending blood spraying.
Sang Qi let out a scream, collapsing to one knee, staring in disbelief at the wound on his shoulder.
He had trained bitterly for years, believing himself among the best of his peers, yet Chen Ping had crippled him so easily.
“Brother!”
A cry rang out from the distance. Sang Lan, accompanied by the Great Elder and others, rushed to the scene, only to find Sang Qi gravely wounded.
The Great Elder’s pupils contracted, his aura erupting in an instant, an invisible pressure enveloping the area, as if the air in Liuli City had frozen.
He stared at Chen Ping, his voice icy, “Chen Ping, I respect you as a formidable man, but if you harm the young master today, Shura Hall will stop at nothing to ensure you have no grave to rest in!”
Mo Qingyun’s heart tightened, instinctively gripping Chen Ping’s hand.
The Great Elder of Shura Hall’s strength was unfathomable. If a fight broke out, they might not escape unscathed.
Yet Chen Ping merely gave a faint smile, laced with mockery and disdain.
He looked down at the kneeling Sang Qi, slowly raising his golden sword, its tip aimed at his throat.
“No grave to rest in?”
Chen Ping’s voice was soft but clear, reaching every ear, “When have I, Chen Ping, ever feared a threat?”
Fear flashed in Sang Qi’s eyes. He wanted to beg for mercy, but the killing intent in Chen Ping’s gaze silenced him.
“Your brother, Sang Kun, provoked me first and deserved his death.”
Chen Ping’s sword tip quivered slightly, “You came seeking vengeance today, and you’ve brought about your own doom.”
“No!” Sang Lan screamed, trying to intervene, but the Great Elder held her back.
The Great Elder’s face was ashen. He hadn’t expected Chen Ping to so brazenly disregard his threat.
“This isn’t a threat, it’s a warning…”
The Great Elder stared coldly at Chen Ping, his eyes filled with contempt.
