117: Chapter 117: Making a move feels like it will lead to disaster.

The moment Qiao Song saw Xie Feng place his hand on the back of Deacon Tang's neck, only one thought remained in his mind:

It's over.

Right now, Xie Feng's skin had returned to a normal human complexion. A black veil covered the three-lobed pupils of his left eye, and he wore a very ordinary inner-Sect casual robe of the Qingyun Sect, leaning in his hand on that gray-blue cold crystal blind staff.

He looked more than ten times more normal than he did back in Ranhuo City.

However, Qiao Song was a witness to the legendary self-detonation king; once the mental state of the person in front of him had problems, even the Chiwu Sect would suffer disaster.

"Xie Feng! Calm down! This is a minor matter! It's not worth it for this..." Qiao Song's mouth was faster than his brain, and the words had already rushed out.

As he spoke, he took half a step forward, attempting to block the space between Xie Feng and Deacon Tang.

Xie Feng ignored them.

He turned his head sideways, the three-lobed firelight beneath his veil turning toward Tu Ziguan, and spat out only a single word:

"Point."

Tu Ziguan thumped the maxim's gun mount onto the ground, raised his right hand without hesitation to point at Deacon Tang, and then swept his finger sideways, including all the Loose Cultivators who had been watching and laughing the loudest just now.

There were also a few who had spoken cynically over the past few days.

"This one, that one, and that one over there. The one carrying the iron sword laughed the loudest just now. And the one in gray clothes by the passageway said earlier that we were dupes."

Tu Ziguan's tone was extremely cheerful.

Remember this: when my buddy gets scared, he hits people; when he hits people, he gets scared.

Xie Feng's figure swayed in place, and the cold crystal blind staff had already been swung up.

This time he didn't use any staff techniques, mainly because he hadn't practiced them in a long time.

He just used the blind staff as a club.

A single sweep of the staff struck Deacon Tang's left ribs. Deacon Tang's Spiritual Qi protective barrier was as fragile as a layer of rice paper before this staff strike, and his entire body was knocked flying sideways, crashing into the cordoned-off open space on the north side of the square and sliding a long way before stopping.

His ribs weren't completely broken, but at least two were snapped.

Before the few Loose Cultivators could react, Xie Feng had already arrived, and whoever the tip of the cold crystal blind staff pointed at flew away.

There were no Moves, no external release of Spiritual Qi—just pure Physical Body strength matched with the weight of that blind staff. Everyone swept by the tip of the staff felt as if they had been rammed from the side by a charging rhinoceros.

The square was in utter chaos. Screams and the dull thuds of clubs smashing into flesh rose one after another, mixed with the footsteps of a few Loose Cultivators fleeing with their heads in their hands and the panicked shouts of Chiwu Sect Disciples.

Although among the present Loose Cultivators and Chiwu Sect Disciples, there were some whose Realm was similar to Xie Feng's.

But the purity was far too different.

Xie Feng knew very well that compared to Cultivating, he couldn't compare to the locals; his talent wasn't considered high, and he didn't practice many Cultivation Techniques.

However, Xie Feng won through corruption; any Cultivator who dared to fight Xie Feng had to first undergo a wave of willpower resistance, and Xie Feng was craftier than a fox.

You used Spiritual Qi for defense, and he used magic attacks.

The weapon enchantment arts he had newly learned over the past few days on the flying boat while returning to the Sect were endlessly treacherous against Spiritual Qi shields.

Qiao Song stood in place, his hands hanging at his sides.

He knew he couldn't stop Xie Feng—he couldn't stop him in Ranhuo City, and even less so in the Chiwu Sect.

He merely turned his head to look at Tu Ziguan, his gaze carrying a trace of extreme, exhausted helplessness.

Tu Ziguan propped the maxim's gun mount onto his shoulder, spread his hands apart, and wore an expression of extreme innocence on his face. "Senior Brother Qiao, don't look at me. I tried to persuade him, but I couldn't stop him."

When he said these words, the corners of his mouth were still slightly upturned; obviously, he hadn't persuaded him at all.

He knew that since Xie Feng dared to beat people like this, he would definitely be able to clean up the mess for the Sect Master, so Tu Ziguan cheerfully pulled out his new-version Spiritual Qi cell phone to start taking pictures.

This was a function newly developed by him and Elder Qin.

An oppressive force descended from the sky.

The Spiritual Qi fluctuations of a seventh-Realm Cultivator pressed down like a mountain upon the heads of everyone in the square.

All the Loose Cultivators who were still running simultaneously stopped, pressed down onto one knee, while the Chiwu Sect Disciples lowered their heads in unison to salute.

Xie Feng withdrew the cold crystal blind staff from the lower leg of the last Loose Cultivator and turned his head.

An old man wearing a reddish-brown robe stood in the exact center of the square. His face was thin and gaunt, his beard and hair were silver-white, and his robe was embroidered with the flame insignia that only the master of the Chiwu Sect Artifact Hall was qualified to wear.

The Chiwu Sect Master concurrently serving as the Artifact Hall master—a seventh-Realm expert.

He stood right there, watching Xie Feng.

All the Disciples were waiting for him to give the order to capture that violent Qingyun Sect lunatic who was beating people.

But he didn't Move.

He didn't even release any aggressive Spiritual Qi lock.

All the Old Ones on Xie Feng's body began to emit an aura... They were waiting for this Cultivator to make a Move.

You can see us behind the blessing... Right?

A seventh-Realm Cultivator could perceive the subtle fluctuations of the laws of heaven and earth. He sensed that several existences far surpassing the laws of heaven and earth themselves were casting their gazes toward him through the Physical Body of this Fourth Realm Cultivator.

This scene was too bizarre.

Every single movement all over Xie Feng's body was riddled with flaws; any seventh-Realm Cultivator could knock him down with a single strike, but the Chiwu Sect Master simply couldn't make a Move.

He felt that once he made a Move, he would die.

Xie Feng did not continue fighting. He slammed the cold crystal blind staff onto the ground, causing an extremely fine crack to split across the bluestone slab at the tip of the staff. Then, he pulled something out from his bosom—a jade token, branded on the front with the imperial Phoenix insignia and engraved on the back with the character " Qian".

The official seal of the Qingzhou Governors Mansion.

The proof of identity Zuo Ciyuan had the Imperial Guards bring to him after the imperial capital incident—a credential of a true third-rank nominal title.

Xie Feng raised the jade token before the Chiwu Sect Master, carrying a flavor of bullying others by virtue of powerful connections: "The people here were just cursing a true third-rank imperial court official. Your esteemed Sect is an Artifact Refining Sect of western Qingzhou; you surely know what crime it is to hurl insults at an imperial court official, right?"

"Holy crap, you sold yourself to the emperor? How did you suddenly become a third-rank lackey official?"

Tu Ziguan was cheerfully taking pictures, but upon hearing these words, he ran over and started looking at the jade token in Xie Feng's hand.

As the saying goes:

Fearing your brothers live in hardship, yet fearing your brother drives a Land Rover.

A Land Rover Range Rover is driven back home, and three of the four childhood friends hang themselves.

Tu Ziguan stated that he had eye-redness from jealousy and couldn't bear to look at this.

The Chiwu Sect Master fell silent for a long time. He glanced at Deacon Tang lying on the ground, then looked at the jade token in Xie Feng's hand, pulled his hand out from his sleeve, and waved it toward the people still lying on the ground waiting to be beaten, his voice extremely bland:

"Deacon Tang is transferred to the southern side to guard the mines for three years. These few Loose Cultivators shall be recorded and then expelled from Luoxia Mountain, never to be employed again. Carry away all those who are lying down."

He turned around and added another sentence: "Young Master Xie has traveled a long way and is fatigued. Please enter inside to rest for a moment; the Chiwu Sect will naturally entertain you properly."

Xie Feng stuffed the official seal back into his bosom, slammed the blind staff onto the ground, and turned toward Tu Ziguan.

Tu Ziguan was re-wrapping the maxim with oiled cloth, and seeing Xie Feng turn around, he chuckled and patted the gun mount. "I'll treat you to a meal when we get back."

"Are there baked sesame cakes?"

Qiao Song followed silently at the very back, lowering his head to glance at Deacon Tang as he passed by him. This Senior Brother from the Artifact Hall still had a gaze as steady as ever—steady as if nothing had happened just now.

He silently calculated an account in his heart: after returning, Sect Master Shen would probably first scold Xie Feng, then record a great merit for him, and then scold him again.

He turned his head and lowered his voice to say to Mo Tang: "When Xie Feng returns to the Sect, notify the people of the Artifact Hall first not to have loose mouths."

Mo Tang nodded with utmost solemnity.