Watching the shadow slowly approach his room, Ye Chen raised an eyebrow. So, Jin Zhaodi had come after all? Though he had never met her, the broad figure—larger than most men—was the most obvious characteristic. Regardless of whether it was Jin Zhaodi or not, sneaking around in the dead of night was never the behavior of a good person.

  Standing atop the roof, Ye Chen took the Wind Spirit Sword from his storage ring. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the shadow, and just as it grew closer, he suddenly leapt down and slashed with his sword…

  ...

  For the past half year, Jin Zhaodi had been secluded in the mountains. She still could not accept the death of her younger brother. All he had wanted was to win the love of a woman. What was wrong with that? Why did a family disciple like Ye Chen, with so many women at his disposal, have to fight with her brother for the one woman? Even if he had taken her brother's woman, that was one thing. But to go so far as to kill him? That was unforgivable.

  Ye Chen had killed her brother's assailant, yet still dragged her brother into the mess. Relying on his status as a family disciple, he had colluded with the Mo family, wiping them out without mercy. It had led to her brother's tragic death. Then there was Lin Ke'er, who, driven by greed, had become the main culprit.

  Jin Zhaodi loathed Ye Chen, loathed Lin Ke'er, and loathed the Mo family. She could not sleep peacefully at night. Every night, her brother's bloodied face haunted her dreams, crying out in pain. Even her deceased father's angry voice rang in her ears, reprimanding her for how she had cared for her brother.

  For the past months, Jin Zhaodi had slept restlessly, consumed by hatred, only desiring to kill Ye Chen and take her revenge. She had thought the chance would take much longer to come. But unexpectedly, the Mo family's ancestor had died. Now, an opportunity for vengeance had presented itself.

  So, Jin Zhaodi had come. Staring at Ye Chen's room, she swore that he would not die so easily. And Lin Ke'er, too. She would bury her alive, to spend eternity underground with her brother. As for those who had acted under the Mo family's command, they, too, would die!

  Consumed by hatred, Jin Zhaodi silently approached the door. But just at that moment, a chill ran down her spine, and she instinctively tried to retreat. But it was too late. A shadow descended from above, flying straight toward her. A flash of cold light cut through the air. The hastily summoned protective barrier she raised was useless before the gleaming blade.

  In the next instant, Jin Zhaodi felt her world flip upside down, spinning uncontrollably. Amidst the dizzying rotation, she caught sight of her enemy's face.

  Young and handsome. It was Ye Chen, the very one she had longed to kill. And only when her vision blurred, seeing only the ground and her own fallen body, did it finally dawn on her.

  She was already dead… But how? Ye Chen was only at the fifth level of Qi Refining! How could she have had no strength to resist? In her confusion and disbelief, Jin Zhaodi's life flickered out.

  ...

  Ye Chen gazed at Jin Zhaodi's lifeless body, then suddenly looked up. Across from him, in the adjacent room, Lin Ke'er had cautiously poked her head out. The moment Lin Ke'er saw Ye Chen, her eyes widened in shock at the headless corpse before him. But when her gaze landed on the severed head, her eyes grew even wider in disbelief.

  Jin Zhaodi, at the seventh level of Qi Refining. How had she died at Ye Chen's hands? Lin Ke'er's eyes filled with utter disbelief. How could Ye Chen be this strong?

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  Sensing Lin Ke'er's gaze, Ye Chen sheathed his Wind Spirit Sword and gently placed his index finger on his lips, signaling for silence.

  Startled, Lin Ke'er nodded quickly and closed the door. Leaning against the door, Lin Ke'er felt her heart pounding uncontrollably. She had always thought Ye Chen weak. Even when Ye Chen broke through to the fifth level of Qi Refining, she had believed it was all thanks to cultivation pills. She had always felt he was no match for her.

  But today, seeing Ye Chen kill Jin Zhaodi, a seventh-level Qi Refining cultivator… Lin Ke'er felt as though she were in a dream. Ye Chen, who always wore a gentle smile, had just moments ago wielded a sword with a cold, icy gaze. This image was a shocking contrast to the Ye Chen she thought she knew. How could Ye Chen be so strong? Lin Ke'er, who had always trusted in the power of strength, was now overwhelmed with confusion and turmoil.

  Ye Chen stored Jin Zhaodi's corpse into his storage ring, then prepared to watch the unfolding scene. Would the Mo family's stronghold be breached? If the Mo family fell, even more cultivators would likely join the fray. Silver Moon Market would certainly be plundered. In such a situation, would it be better for him to flee? Or would it be wiser to stay and wait for his family to come to his aid?

  Before Ye Chen could settle on an answer, horrified voices rang out from outside. Ye Chen immediately leapt onto the roof, concealing his presence once more to observe. Before he could steady himself, his expression changed dramatically.

  A hoarse, aged voice echoed from deep within the Mo family's compound: "Is this all you have? How pitiful."

  In the next instant, a figure rose from the depths of the Mo family grounds, soaring high above and appearing before the gathered cultivators. Those who had been relentlessly attacking the Mo family, nearly breaching their defenses, now froze in place. They gazed at the elderly figure, whose hair and beard were entirely white, a mix of dread and disbelief in their eyes. Only a Foundation Establishment cultivator could soar into the sky without relying on any magical tools. The Mo family's ancestor… had not died!

  Some cultivators stood in stunned silence, while others slowly retreated into the crowd. The leaders from the mountains—the cultivators in the late stages of Qi Refining—were the first to break, their faces ashen as they fled.

  "Fleeing now, like a swarm of ants?" The old man's voice rang out coldly. He raised a finger, and even from hundreds of meters away, the fastest fleeing cultivator—a ninth level Qi Refining cultivator—was reduced to nothing more than a mist of blood, his body exploding in an instant.

  The old man continued to advance step by step. With each movement, a spell flew from his hand, and with each spell, another cultivator met their end. A Foundation Establishment cultivator was truly a force of terror.

  The cultivators attacking the Mo family were now in a state of utter panic. They fled in disarray, but there was no escape. As long as the elder's gaze fell upon them, even from hundreds of meters away, death was inevitable. The overwhelming pressure of a Foundation Establishment cultivator was unmistakably clear in that moment. Even Ye Chen, a kilometer away, was drenched in sweat.

  So this was the power of a Foundation Establishment cultivator? It was truly a power to be desired. If a Foundation Establishment was this formidable… what about the Golden Core? The Nascent Soul? Wouldn't they be capable of soaring to the heavens?

  Witnessing the terrifying might of a Foundation Establishment cultivator only deepened Ye Chen's yearning to grow stronger.

  The bloodshed did not last long. The once-bustling street grew eerily quiet, the ground stained red with blood. The Mo family members began to emerge, followed by the Mo family's law enforcement team, who set to work hunting down the remaining stragglers. Silver Moon Market was soon filled with cries and wails, as the culprits who had dared to plunder the market were being held to account.

  Ye Chen shook his head, his gaze following the Mo family ancestor, who was now retreating back to the Mo family compound. Activating his Emperor's Qi Viewing Technique, Ye Chen focused intently, his eyes narrowing.

  The true cultivation level of the Mo family ancestor was immediately revealed to him. Indeed, the man was a genuine Foundation Establishment cultivator. But when Ye Chen looked deeper into his vitality, his eyes narrowed further in suspicion.

  If Lin Ke'er's vitality was like a towering tree... then, by comparison, Lu Jing's was akin to a small sapling. But the Mo family ancestor's vitality? It resembled nothing more than dried grass, swaying in the wind, as if one breath of air could sever it completely.

  The Mo family ancestor… was truly on the verge of death. He might last another month at most. That earlier overwhelming display of power—slaughtering without mercy—had simply been him holding on by the slimmest of threads.