107: Chapter 107: No Need to Delve Deeper

Every fine pattern on the blade seemed to be quenched in solidified killing intent, silently scorching his skin.

That pure aura of death almost froze his Divine Soul into ice shards—he did not doubt for a moment that if his internal Qi moved even slightly...

In the next instant, this sword would mercilessly pierce the Dantian, grinding his life-bound Golden Core—which he had painstakingly cultivated for over four hundred years and regarded as his life—into dust, severing his last chance at Reincarnation, leaving him to vanish into ashes.

This was the crushing pressure brought by absolute power—irresistible, unblockable; even the mere thought of resistance was an unattainable luxury.

"Sen... Senior... spare me..."

The Guardian's voice was dry and trembling, like rusty iron scraping against a coarse stone surface.

The majesty of a titan in ordinary times had vanished completely, leaving only a bone-deep fear churning in his throat, his teeth chattering uncontrollably, making faint 'clack-clack' sounds.

He was a Cultivator at the Late Soul Transformation Stage, holding an exalted position in the Zhenlei Princes Mansion; even the Zhenlei Prince himself would have to show him a modicum of respect upon meeting.

Yet before this person, he was as insignificant as a speck of dust or an ant!

The other's aura was unfathomable, like a boundless abyss or a silent, eternal starry sky—he could not even muster the courage to peek, knowing only that it must be... a terrifying Realm far beyond Soul Transformation!

The cold voice sounded by his ear once again, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, yet every word struck his tottering Dao Heart like a thousand-catty hammer:

"Keep your master's dog life in check. If there is a next time, it won't just be Face that is lost."

The moment the voice fell, the sword blade pressing against the Dantian disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared.

There was no residual fluctuation of Qi, as if the fatal threat just now had merely been a hallucination, realistic enough to be suffocating.

Only the bone-chilling cold lingering at the Dantian silently reminded him—just a moment ago, he had been a hair's breadth away from Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering.

However, the Guardian remained frozen in place, his legs as soft as boiled noodles, unable to muster even a shred of strength.

The clothes on his back had long been soaked through with cold sweat, clinging icily to his skin; as the evening breeze swept by, it brought a bone-piercing chill that made his Soul tremble in fear.

He swallowed with difficulty, the sound of his Adam's apple bobbing exceptionally clear on the silent rooftop, like a stone falling into a deep well.

He turned around slowly, extremely slowly—

Behind him, there was no one.

There was only the blue tile beneath his feet reflecting the slightly cool afternoon sunlight, and at the end of the long street, the carriage with the white jade body gleaming with a gentle luster, leisurely driving into the corner of the alley and finally disappearing from sight.

A monstrous wave surged in his heart!

What terrifying cultivation and concealment methods were these?

He himself was a dignified Late Soul Transformation Stage Cultivator; with his spiritual sense fully unleashed, even the flapping of a mosquito's wings within a hundred zhang would be unable to hide, yet he had been completely oblivious, like a blind man!

The other's strength... likely had already touched the legendary, ethereal Void Refining Realm!

This was a supreme level that he felt unable to even reach with his gaze, let alone look up to!

He no longer had even the slightest delusional thought of pursuit or revenge.

He jumped off the roof, practically rolling and crawling; his legs were weak upon landing, and he stumbled several steps before barely standing steady, his knees knocking against the bluestone slab, causing him to grimace in pain—where was there any trace of a high-level expert's demeanor?

He stumbled toward Heir, who was slumped on the ground with unfocused eyes, his voice distorted and floating due to extreme fear, even carrying a hint of a sob:

"Heir! Let's go! This place is ominous, we cannot stay for even a moment! That person... that person is someone we absolutely cannot provoke! It is a Void Refining Realm powerhouse! A Void Refining Realm powerhouse!!"

"Go! Let's go!!" Heir had long since been scared out of his wits; upon hearing the three words "Void Refining Realm," he was even more Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, his voice shrill and off-key, like a chicken with its neck pinched.

Under the hurried support of his attendants, he scrambled up using his hands and feet; his brocade robe was mixed with mud and urine stains, looking wretched beyond words, and blood beads seeped from under the torn fabric at his knees, yet he felt no pain, scrambling and crawling into the carriage that had already been tilted by the aftermath of the Sword Qi.

The carriage driver's Face was bloodless, his hands shaking so much that he could barely hold the reins; upon hearing the order, he instinctively raised his whip and lashed the horse's rump!

The horse, in pain, let out a shrill neigh, its four hooves pawing frantically, dragging the tilted carriage as it fled in panic toward the direction of the Zhenlei Princes Mansion.

The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, emitting a harsh, unpleasant "creak-creak" sound, kicking up dust all the way, terrified like a stray dog, without even the courage to look back.

On the long street, only a mess was left behind: overturned stalls, shattered porcelain, scattered fruits and vegetables, and countless gazes filled with shock, uncertainty, and whispered discussions.

"That... that person just now, was that the mysterious Late Soul Transformation Stage Guardian from the Zhenlei Princes Mansion? He actually stood frozen on the roof like a puppet?"

"Look at his lost and Soul-less appearance when he came down, it's just like he saw a ghost! Who on earth is the sacred being in that carriage, capable of suppressing a Soul Transformation Cultivator to the point of not daring to breathe?"

"The Heir was even scared to the point of incontinence... My god, this matter will surely spread throughout Wuji City by tomorrow! The Zhenlei Princes Mansion has lost all its Face this time!!"

The discussions surged through the crowd like a tide, yet everyone kept their voices low, none daring to speak loudly, fearing to bring trouble upon themselves.

Everyone also knew clearly that today's events would surely be like a thunderbolt, striking hard into the seemingly calm lake surface of Wuji City, inevitably stirring up thousands of waves and agitating countless winds and clouds!

And at this moment, inside that departing white jade carriage, it was a completely different scene.

Jian Tanghuang's almond-shaped eyes were wide open, her long eyelashes trembling incessantly due to excitement, her body almost bouncing off the cushion covered in soft brocade.

She completely disregarded any demeanor of a noble lady, leaning close to Xuanyuan Zhanxian, her hands tightly clutching her skirt, her knuckles slightly white from the force.

She lowered her voice, yet could not conceal the excitement and admiration that was almost overflowing from her tone:

"Senior Brother! Was it Commander Yingsha who acted just now? That skulking fellow was at least in the Late Soul Transformation Stage, right? He was actually scared to the point of not daring to move, standing there like a block of wood!!"

Although she had not seen the situation on the roof with her own eyes, at the very moment the Guardian of Heir unleashed his Qi and intended to strike, that fleeting, bone-chilling, yet vast, star-like, biting killing intent was something she would never mistake!

That aura instantly enveloped the entire long street; even she felt a moment of suffocation, let alone the Guardian who was at the core of the killing intent—he was likely suppressed on the spot, unable to unleash even one or two tenths of his full strength.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian's fingertips gently brushed over the dark long spear placed horizontally by his side, the ancient cloud patterns on the spear shaft swirling with a faint, gentle luster under his fingertips.

He cast his calm gaze out the window; the streetscape flew by, the bluestone road was gradually replaced by dense tree shade, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, sprinkling dappled, dancing light spots, like scattered gold paved on the ground.

His voice was as faint as a breeze brushing over a quiet lake, without stirring the slightest ripple:

"No need to delve further."

Simple as those four words were, they carried a kind of unquestionable composure and indifference.

It was as if that earth-shattering act of suppressing a Soul Transformation and scaring off the Princes Mansion just now was, to him, nothing more than casually brushing a speck of dust off his lapel.

The carriage curtain was gently swayed by the evening breeze that slipped in from outside the window, like a layer of translucent cicada wings, firmly isolating the noise and dust of the market outside.

Inside the carriage, high-quality agarwood was burning quietly, diffusing a pale golden mist; it was so quiet that one could hear the rustle of each other's clothing rubbing together, and the faint sound of breath brushing against the brocade.

Jian Tanghuang's fingertips repeatedly twisted the tassel on the jade pendant at her waist, the silk thread winding around her fingertips three times, then loosening, and winding up again.

Senior Brother's words "No need to delve further" were like a small pebble thrown into the lake of her heart, causing ripples of joy to spread across the bottom of her heart, impossible to suppress.

But in the end, unable to hold back, she leaned closer to Xuanyuan Zhanxian, her voice pressed even lighter than the flapping of a gnat's wings, yet unable to hide that trace of secret joy and curiosity:

"Senior Brother, do you think... the Zhenlei Princes Mansion has suffered such a big loss this time, will they secretly cause trouble and make us 'suffer the consequences'?"

Just as the words fell, the moving carriage suddenly paused slightly, the "rumble" sound of wheels rolling over the bluestone slabs stopped abruptly, and the carriage body stopped steadily in the center of the street.

Outside the carriage came the voice of Uncle Fu, old yet steady and solid like the roots of an ancient pine, respectful to just the right degree, penetrating the carriage curtain:

"Young Master, Wangxian Tower has arrived."

Xuanyuan Zhanxian did not speak again, simply raising his hand to brush aside the carriage curtain; the hem of his dark brocade robe swept across the carved carriage shaft, his movements clean and without a hint of hesitation, and he had already alighted elegantly.

He cast a casual glance toward the front of the building.

He saw that in front of Wangxian Tower, it was already a completely different scene.

The manager, leading dozens of neatly dressed attendants, stood waiting in front of the door, bowing their heads, a dark mass of people.

The back of the manager's silk vest was already soaked through with sweat, the sweat stains seeping down along the starched and stiff collar, yet his waist was bent so low it was almost touching the ground; that air of extreme respect and fearful trepidation was likely twelve times more earnest than welcoming the current Crown Prince.

Clearly, the disturbance on the long street just now, where the Heir of the Zhenlei Princes Mansion sought trouble only to be thunderously humiliated, had long since spread like a wildfire, sweeping across the entire street, and even inside and outside this Wangxian Tower, at an astonishing speed.

Jian Tanghuang followed and jumped off the carriage, her embroidered shoes stepping on the smooth stone slab, making a crisp, light sound.

The golden hair accessory in her hair swayed gently with her movements, emitting a faint, clear "jingle" sound, shattering into the cool evening breeze.

She was standing on tiptoe, her almond-shaped eyes darting around, curiously examining what mysteries this famous Wangxian Tower held—

Suddenly, she felt the clouds in the sky move slightly, and a green light, like a meteor falling to the ground, arrived in an instant!

The color of the green light was clear and cold, like the cold water of a deep pool, carrying a bone-piercing chill that instantly overwhelmed all the worldly aura in front of the building; even the surrounding air seemed to suddenly drop in temperature, condensing into substance.

When the green light dissipated, a figure was already quietly standing in the center of the street.

It was a woman dressed in moon-white Daoist robes, her wide sleeves hanging down like flowing clouds spilling to the ground, and a bright moonlight seemed to flow silently between her robes.

Her steps were light, and she landed without the slightest sound, as if she had come stepping on the moonlight, untainted by worldly smoke and fire.

Her appearance was beautiful and peerless, like a cold plum blossom blooming in the snow; her temperament was ethereal and otherworldly, as if she had just stepped into the mortal world from the Jade Pool at the peak of the clouds, and every frown and smile carried a coldness that kept people at a distance.

Her gaze swept by indifferently; when it passed over Xuanyuan Zhanxian, those clear eyes, which were like an ancient well without waves, paused almost imperceptibly—the pause was extremely short, so short that almost no one noticed, yet it clearly carried a sense of scrutiny.

Immediately afterward, this gaze fell precisely and accurately onto Jian Tanghuang, who was poking her head about, her eyes full of curiosity.