He didn’t believe that Chen Ping would dare to kill Sang Qi in front of their Shura Hall members!
Even if Chen Ping had immense power backing him, he wouldn’t dare now.
But the next moment, a golden flash streaked by, and a sword imbued with chilling killing intent slashed down.
“Pfft…”
Blood sprayed into the air, Sang Qi’s head rolled to the ground, his eyes still holding lingering fear and unwillingness.
His body swayed, then collapsed with a thud.
The scene fell into dead silence.
Mo Qingyun’s hand, gripping Chen Ping’s, trembled slightly, not from fear, but from shock.
She knew Chen Ping was powerful, but she hadn’t realised he was this formidable, daring to decisively slay his enemy despite the Shura Hall Great Elder’s threats.
Chen Ping sheathed his Dragon-Slaying Sword, the golden glow at its tip fading, as if the bloody scene had never occurred.
He didn’t even glance at the pale-faced Sang Lan or the furious Great Elder, merely turning around to gently pat Mo Qingyun’s hand, his voice returning to its usual warmth: “Let’s go, the stench of blood here has ruined the mood for sightseeing.”
Holding her hand, he walked step by step past Sang Qi’s corpse, his posture upright, without a trace of hesitation.
The Great Elder stared at his retreating figure, fists clenched so tightly his nails nearly drew blood.
In his hundreds of years of life, he had never endured such humiliation.
Yet he could sense the unfathomable aura emanating from Chen Ping, making him wary of acting rashly.
As Chen Ping passed Sang Lan, he didn’t pause, only saying faintly: “If you seek revenge, come at me, I know you’re also coveting the coffin I obtained from the ruins.”
With those words, he and Mo Qingyun vanished into the shimmering depths of Liuli City, leaving behind only the cold fury of the Shura Hall members.
Sang Lan remained silent, her younger and elder brothers both slain by Chen Ping, yet at this moment, her heart held no hatred, only shock!
After all, she wasn’t born of the same mother as Sang Kun and Sang Qi, and there was no sibling bond.
“Chen Ping, I will kill him, no matter what immense power backs him, I want him dead!”
The Great Elder’s eyes turned blood-red!
Sang Qi’s death didn’t concern him much!
What mattered was that Chen Ping, a mere third-grade Loose Immortal, had ignored him, disregarded his warnings.
“Great Elder, let’s wait until Father emerges from seclusion!” Sang Lan urged.
“Miss, this matter has nothing to do with Shura Hall, it’s my personal grudge with Chen Ping, if anything happens, I’ll bear it alone!”
With that, the Great Elder’s figure vanished instantly!
Sang Lan sighed helplessly, watching his disappearing silhouette.
Liuli City’s twilight was torn apart by a fierce blade aura, Chen Ping and Mo Qingyun had just reached the Nine-Bend Bridge when the air ahead froze solid.
The Great Elder stood like a god of death at the bridge’s head, his dark robe billowing in the night wind.
The murderous aura radiating from him formed tangible dark patterns, spreading wildly along the bridge’s stone tiles, freezing even the ripples on the water’s surface into frost.
“Chen Ping, leave your life here!”
The Great Elder’s voice seemed dredged from a frozen abyss, each word carrying bone-chilling cold.
In his hand appeared a pitch-black short blade, its edge glimmering with eerie bloodlight, the Shura Hall’s treasured “Soul-Devouring Blade”.
This blade had drunk the heart’s blood of a thousand cultivators, now sensing its master’s killing intent, it let out a low wail, like a demon’s cry.
Mo Qingyun’s heart tightened, instinctively pulling Chen Ping behind her.
She could feel the Great Elder’s aura had surged several times stronger than at the lakeside, a forbidden power unleashed by burning part of his lifespan.
Chen Ping, however, gently patted her hand, his gaze calm as a deep pool: “Stand back, watch me dismantle this old bag of bones.”
Before his words faded, the Great Elder moved like a phantom.
