29: Chapter 29 One Slap Kills a Nascent Soul Powerhouse

"Father! Save me—!" Wang Jia's wail tore through the long street.

This voice no longer sounded human, as if his throat had been torn open, the wail squeezed out from a bloody gash.

Every syllable was steeped in extreme fear, twisted and broken, like the final cry of a young beast with its throat clamped by iron pliers before the butcher's knife fell.

The moment he caught sight of that familiar figure, light suddenly erupted in his eyes—this was the light of a drowning person finally touching a piece of driftwood before sinking into the darkness, the light of someone dying seeing their closest kin one last time.

Tears mixed with snot smeared all over his face.

His previous arrogance and overbearing nature had long been ground into powder, leaving only the most absolute humility and the most primal helplessness.

Wang Zhentian's gaze fell upon his son—this only child he had held in the palm of his hand for nineteen years, the sole Bloodline of the Wang Family, was currently being held up in mid-air like a dead dog, feet off the ground, kicking and struggling in vain.

This face, twisted by fear, and those eyes looking at him, were like two red-hot daggers stabbing fiercely into his heart.

A rage capable of burning the heavens and boiling the seas rushed to his head.

The Spiritual Qi around him boiled out of control due to his fury, his robes dancing wildly without wind, flapping loudly like thousands of war drums beating simultaneously.

The air beneath his feet was scorched and twisted, and the Aura of the Soul Transformation Stage poured down without reservation—this was the weight of a mountain about to collapse, the despair of the entire sky caving in.

The stone slabs of the street could not withstand it and cracked inch by inch.

The fissures spread crazily in all directions like venomous snakes, emitting "crack, crack" sounds of shattering that were exceptionally harsh in the deathly silence.

"Brat—"

Wang Zhentian's voice was squeezed out word by word from between his teeth, every word saturated with the killing intent of ten-thousand-year-old ice, while also carrying the tyranny of volcanic lava:

"No matter who you are, or which mountain stands behind you... release my son immediately."

He paused for a breath. In this pause lay an abyss of killing intent:

"Otherwise, I will surely... extract your Soul and refine your spirit, grind your bones and scatter your ashes, so that you won't even have the qualifications to enter Reincarnation!"

The bloodthirst in his words almost solidified, turning into an invisible heavy hammer that smashed into the chests of the low-level Cultivators watching from afar.

Some felt their blood Qi surging, their faces turning deathly pale; others felt their stomachs churning, nearly vomiting.

The air seemed to solidify, and everyone held their breath, as if they had already foreseen the young man in green robes being ground into powder and his ashes scattered by the fury of the Soul Transformation Cultivator in the next moment.

Chu Changsheng did not even lift his eyelids.

"Too much nonsense."

That slender hand waved casually—the action was so understated, as if brushing dust off his shoulder, or driving away an annoying mosquito.

Yet, with just this casual wave, the space in front suddenly collapsed and compressed.

An invisible, intangible, yet vast power that made one's Soul tremble turned into a transparent, raging wave visible to the naked eye, distorting the air, and pushed horizontally towards Wang Zhentian in mid-air with a gesture of pure suppression!

There were no brilliant spells, no obscure runes.

There was only the most primitive, most brutal power, carrying the "rumbling" sound of muffled thunder as it rolled across the Void Realm.

This sound was like the firmament groaning, like the earth trembling.

The fury on Wang Zhentian's face instantly froze.

It was replaced by boundless shock and despair.

He didn't even have time to form any defensive technique—his protective spiritual light shattered with a "crack" like a fragile eggshell, turning into specks of light filling the sky.

This power slammed solidly into his chest.

"Pfft—!"

Blood mixed with fragments of internal organs sprayed out wildly, blooming into a bewitching mist of blood under the afternoon sun.

His entire body was as if struck head-on by a prehistoric giant beast, and like a Puppet with its strings cut, he maintained a rigid posture, falling powerlessly and stiffly from the sky.

"Boom—!!!"

The heavy body slammed fiercely into the center of the bluestone street.

With the point of impact as the center, spiderweb-like cracks spread crazily for dozens of zhang, the fissures deep enough to see the bottom.

Dust mixed with blood mist rose up, spreading a scarlet haze under the sunlight.

This sound was not the sound of a flesh-and-blood body hitting the ground—it was the sound of a sky-supporting pillar collapsing, the sound of a Family's myth shattering.

Deathly silence. Absolute deathly silence.

The wind stopped, the sounds stopped, and time seemed to have its throat gripped by an invisible giant hand.

The entire long street, everyone—whether they were high-and-mighty Cultivators or street vendors.

Whether they were Young Masters from noble Families in the tea house private rooms or the accountants behind the tavern counters—all of them were like they had been cast with a paralysis spell.

They widened their eyes, opened their mouths, but could not make a sound.

Only their pupils trembled violently, reflecting the pool of blurred flesh and blood gradually revealed in the dust—this was an overlord of Nantian City, the Soul Transformation Stage Wang Zhentian.

The sound of their worldview shattering before their eyes was clearly audible.

The tears and snot still hung on Wang Jia's face, but his expression was completely blank.

He stared blankly at this outline that used to be his father, his greatest reliance—this father who yesterday was still teaching him sword techniques in the manor, saying he would find him a peerless Yao Beast as a mount, was now a pool of flesh and blood whose features could not be distinguished.

He stiffly, inch by inch, twisted his neck to look at that figure in green robes who still looked indifferent.

His mind was a complete blank.

All his thoughts, all his cognition, all his pride and reliance, were slapped into nothingness by this one slap, leaving not even a trace of residue.

Chu Changsheng flicked his wrist, as if throwing away something dirty.

Wang Jia fell onto the cold, hard stone slab with a "thud."

The pain made him twitch violently, but he dared not even let out a scream.

"Take your father," Chu Changsheng's voice still had no fluctuation, even carrying a hint of impatience at having his peace disturbed, "and get lost."

The last word was light, yet it carried more power than any thunderous roar.

Wang Jia shuddered all over.

The fear of imminent death finally broke through his numbness.

He used his hands and feet, crawling and rolling crazily in the dust and blood, stumbling and falling several times, then struggling to get back up, not even daring to look back at that corpse.

He simply relied on the instinct to survive, dragging and pulling, to get himself and that bloody mess away from this street.

His fingernails broke, his knees were scraped raw, and blood dragged a long trail on the ground—his panicked fleeing figure, twisted like a worm, was worlds apart from the Young Master of the Wang Family who had been dressed in fine clothes, riding a fine horse, and acting arrogantly just moments ago.

Inside the Yuyao Pavilion, Shopkeeper Zhao and several clerks had long since collapsed like mud, pressing tightly against the floor, shaking like fallen leaves in the autumn wind.

Cold sweat soaked their backs, wetting the stone slabs beneath them.

Their teeth chattered uncontrollably, a sound that seemed exceptionally harsh in this deathly silence.

"Se... Se... Senior..."

Shopkeeper Zhao's voice was as thin as a gossamer thread, shattered and unbearable, as if he would stop breathing in the next instant.

Seeing them in this state, Chu Changsheng instead curved his lips with some helplessness.

"Don't be nervous," his tone was even considered gentle, and he even reached out to gently pat the massive head of the Thunder Cloud Beast beside him, "I don't eat people."

This action, however, made Shopkeeper Zhao shake even more violently, almost trying to shrink himself into the cracks of the stone floor.

Chu Changsheng's gaze fell onto the Thunder Cloud Beast.

This gaze instantly became different—it was pure appreciation and love for a powerful, beautiful creation, like a child seeing a long-coveted treasure, or a swordsman seeing a peerless sword.

"This Yao Beast, I will take it. How much?"

Shopkeeper Zhao almost pressed his forehead into the cracks of the stone floor, his voice carrying a weeping tone, intermittent:

"If... if Senior likes it, please take it! It is... it is this humble shop's... this humble shop's great fortune... an offering to you..."

"That won't do." Chu Changsheng interrupted him.

The seemingly simple storage ring on his finger flashed with a faint light, and a small cloth bag was tossed over, landing precisely beside Shopkeeper Zhao's trembling hand.

"There are one thousand Top-Grade Spirit Stones here; that should be enough."

Shopkeeper Zhao was shaking so much he could barely hold the bag, barely managing to gather a trace of his almost dissipating Divine Sense to scan inside the bag.

"Hum—!"

His vision suddenly went black.

His brain felt like it had been hit by a heavy hammer, his heart stopped for an instant, then began to beat frantically, almost wanting to burst through his chest.

A mountain of crystals emitting pure and vast Spiritual Qi—dense and numerous, the light dazzling, it was clearly ten thousand!

A full ten thousand Top-Grade Spirit Stones!

Top-Grade Spirit Stones!

The High-Grade Spirit Stones that circulated daily were already precious; one Top-Grade Spirit Stone could be exchanged for ten thousand High-Grade Spirit Stones, and ten thousand Top-Grade Spirit Stones... were enough to buy more than half of Nantian City!

In his entire life, he had never even dared to imagine seeing such great wealth with his own eyes!

"Se... Senior! This... this this..."

Shopkeeper Zhao suddenly raised his head, his old face flushed red, then quickly turned deathly pale, then flushed red again.

Excitement, fear, disbelief—all kinds of emotions were crazily intertwined on his face, twisting into an indescribable expression.

His lips moved, but he could not make a complete sound, only uttering some broken, meaningless syllables.

"The extra," Chu Changsheng casually pointed to the wall collapsed by the Thunder Cloud Beast and the messy front hall, "consider it repair fees."

Having said that, he said no more.

His figure flipped gracefully, and he sat steadily on the broad back of the Thunder Cloud Beast.

His movements were smooth and flowing, as if practiced thousands of times, carrying an indescribable composure and unruliness—this was the composure where nothing in heaven and earth could make him bow his head or make him panic, the unruliness of standing above all living beings.

"Let's go!"

The Thunder Cloud Beast was already spiritually intelligent, emitting a joyful and high-pitched neigh that shook the long street.

The neigh was the joy of breaking free from a cage, the ecstasy of meeting a wise master, the declaration of a peerless Vicious Beast finally finding its home.

The lightning around its body, which had originally calmed down, burst forth again, crackling and popping, even more dazzling than before.

Its silver-black fur stood on end, with brilliant thunder coiled around every single hair.

Its wings spread suddenly, bringing up violent air currents, sweeping up the dust and rubble on the ground, knocking the surrounding vendors to the ground.

"Swish—!"

A jet-black bolt of lightning, wreathed in brilliant silver thunder, shot into the sky!

It instantly pierced the clouds, leaving behind only a gradually expanding ripple in the air at the spot, and a long-lasting, blinding afterimage of thunder.

This afterimage was like a deep wound branded onto the firmament, as if it were a mark left by the sky being scorched by this light.

Shopkeeper Zhao sat paralyzed in the ruins, staring blankly at the trail of light that had disappeared into the horizon.

For a long time, a very long time.

Until his neck was stiff, his eyes sore, and until that trail of light completely dissipated deep into the clouds, he muttered like a dream:

"This Senior... exactly... what kind of sacred being is he..."

And at this moment, the entire Nantian City was like a drop of cold water falling into boiling oil, completely exploding!

Sounds of exclamation, discussion, and people running to tell others erupted from every street, every tea house and tavern, merging into a boiling ocean of sound.

The Wang Family's pillar of support had collapsed, a mysterious youth had slapped a Soul Transformation Cultivator to death with a single palm, and a Divine Beast and a peerless wealthy guest had appeared in the Yuyao Pavilion...

Every detail was spreading, fermenting, and transforming at an astonishing speed, eventually weaving into a legend that was both breathtaking and chilling.

It was foreseeable that the countdown to the Wang Family's destruction had begun at this very moment.

And the name Chu Changsheng—though most of them did not know it—had been branded deep into the memories of everyone in Nantian City like a deep scar.

This was an indelible mark, a legend that had emerged out of nowhere.

Above the Nine Heavens, the gale winds were fierce and biting.

Chu Changsheng rode the Thunder Cloud Beast, galloping freely through the boundless, thick, cotton-like sea of clouds.

The wild wind howled and roared beside his ears, yet it could not penetrate the three-foot space around him, turning instead into a passionate background score, playing a tune of unrestrained joy.

The sea of clouds surged, sometimes like ten thousand galloping horses, churning up a thousand piles of snow-white waves; other times like the palaces of Heavenly Gods, majestic and continuous, flowing with golden edges under the sunlight.

He leaned comfortably against the Thunder Cloud Beast's warm, soft neck fur, his fingers idly combing through the arcs of electricity dancing on its neck.

These violent flashes of lightning were as docile as silk under his fingertips, gently winding around them and emitting satisfied "buzzing" sounds.

"Little Yun," he said, facing the wind, his voice filled with a smile, "Your speed isn't bad at all; chasing the wind and electricity, it's quite exhilarating! It's just that voice of yours..."

He rubbed his ears and teased, "Next time you're happy, keep the noise down; you're about to deafen me."

"Ao... wu..." The Thunder Cloud Beast seemed to understand, emitting a series of low, long purrs from its throat, which carried a hint of coquettishness.

The crackling lightning that manifested its majesty also obediently receded, leaving only a layer of soft, shimmering silver light, making it look like a well-behaved, fluffy giant cat, with none of the ferocity that had previously torn through the sky.

"System," Chu Changsheng shifted into a more comfortable position, his gaze cast toward the unpredictable sea of clouds below, "Activate cheat mode. Let's see how my luck is today. Can I pick up a bargain as soon as I head out? Find a good seedling with 'Great Emperor Aptitude' and bring it back to the mountain; that would add some fun."

His tone was lazy, as if he were talking about picking up a head of cabbage at the market.

"Ding! Scanning mode activated." The cold, precise mechanical voice resounded directly in his mind, "Performing a deep spiritual energy spectrum and potential Aptitude fluctuation screening within a radius of one million miles, centered on the host's current position..."

Chu Changsheng rested his chin on one hand, while the other hand idly teased the electric sparks dancing on the tips of the Thunder Cloud Beast's ears.

Below, the sea of clouds surged, gathering and dispersing unpredictably, and amidst the flowing light and shadows, it seemed to hide another world.

He appeared leisurely, but his mind was crystal clear, awaiting the System's feedback.

It did not make him wait long.

"Detected special spiritual energy fluctuations. The spectrum is abnormal and faintly resonates with the Dao rhythm."

"Location: Approximately 800,000 miles to the southwest of the host's current position."

"The target life form's energy reaction is weak, but the potential Aptitude fluctuation rating is: extremely high."

"Suspected to possess 'Great Emperor Aptitude' characteristics. It is recommended that the host proceed to investigate immediately."

"Oh?" Chu Changsheng raised an eyebrow, the laziness in his eyes instantly replaced by a gleam of interest. "800,000 miles? Not too far, not too near; just right to stretch my muscles. Little Yun!"

He gently patted the Thunder Cloud Beast's neck.

"Roar—!!" The Thunder Cloud Beast was already spiritually connected, and sensing its master's suddenly rising interest, it threw its head back and let out a roar that shook the clouds!

This time, it held nothing back.

Its silver-black fur stood on end, and countless blindingly bright lightning bolts surged crazily from its body, intertwining and wrapping it, along with Chu Changsheng on its back, into a violently intense ball of lightning!

"Go!"

"Boom—!!!" It sounded like a true thunderclap from the Nine Heavens!

The ball of light suddenly transformed into a thunderbolt meteor streaking across the sky, tearing through layers of cloud barriers at a terrifying speed that the naked eye could not capture, and shot off toward the southwest!

Wherever it passed, the clouds were violently plowed open, leaving a vacuum channel tens of miles long that could not close for a long time.

The cloud vapor at the edges of the channel was ionized by the high heat, shimmering with a magnificent purple-blue radiance that lingered, as if the sky had been branded with a burning scar.

The wild wind was left far behind, and the mountains and rivers below turned into a blur of iridescent light; rivers became silver threads, and mountains became ink dots.

The Thunder Cloud Beast pushed its speed to the limit, like a lightning blade splitting the heavens, cutting through all obstacles.

About an incense stick's time later, on the vast horizon ahead, the silhouette of a giant city slowly appeared at the end of the swirling clouds and plains.

This city was as majestic as a mountain and as silent as an ancient beast.

The towering city walls were actually built from an unknown, pure black giant stone.

The giant stones were enormous, each one shimmering with a cold, hard, metallic luster, their surfaces marked by sword slashes, axe chops, and even the claw marks of some giant creature—these were the scars left by time, the witness to countless wars and slaughters.

An Aura of vicissitudes and wilderness rushed toward them, making one feel as if they could hear the war drums of antiquity echoing in the wind.

The city walls were a hundred zhang high, like a black mountain range separating the heavens and earth, winding endlessly, with no end in sight.

Atop the walls, countless black banners danced wildly in the ceaseless wind, flapping loudly.

Even from a great distance, this sound faintly carried over, filled with a metallic murderous intent, like countless war spirits shouting in the wind.

The entire giant city was shrouded in a faint, almost invisible, dark red halo.

This halo was indistinct, yet it made one inexplicably palpitate—as if it had precipitated the blood and fire of countless years, as if every city brick was soaked in the blood of warriors.

A heavy, ancient, and even slightly oppressive, majestic Aura rushed toward them, making one involuntarily hold their breath.

"Is this the place?" Chu Changsheng patted the Thunder Cloud Beast.

The lightning ball quickly receded; the Thunder Cloud Beast understood, and its form rapidly shrank and changed within the light.

When the light dissipated, it had transformed into a large dog about two feet long, with sleek, oily, silver-black fur.

It even wagged its tail ingratiatingly, stuck out its tongue, rubbed against Chu Changsheng's leg, and emitted a satisfied "woofing" sound from its throat—there was no trace of the majesty of a thunder beast, just an utterly harmless, pleasing spiritual pet.

"Let's go, let's go into the city and take a look."

Chu Changsheng straightened his dust-free green robe, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked leisurely, like the most ordinary traveling scholar, toward the pitch-black city gate that looked like the maw of a giant beast.

The Thunder Cloud Beast, in the form of a large dog, followed obediently at his feet, occasionally twitching its nose to curiously sniff the strange scents in the air, its ears turning from time to time to capture sounds from all directions.

The man and the dog merged into the endless stream of people at the city gate, completely inconspicuous.

The interior of the city was far larger and more complex than it appeared from the outside.

The streets were wide enough for ten carriages to travel side by side.

Buildings lined both sides with flying eaves and bucket arches; there were both palatial structures with the flair of immortal sects and shops and markets full of the atmosphere of the mortal world.

The noise was deafening, bustling with activity; the sounds of hawking, bargaining, laughter, and children crying mixed together, showcasing the amazing vitality of this giant city.

Chu Changsheng appeared to be strolling casually, but in reality, his Divine Sense had already spread out like spilled mercury, silently and imperceptibly penetrating every alley and every courtyard.

The source of the "fluctuation" indicated by the System was somewhere in this city.

Just as he reached the vicinity of a fairly open square in the city center, a burst of extremely harsh, malicious clamor, like a stone thrown into calm water, broke the relatively harmonious atmosphere of the surroundings.

"Hey! You little bastard, not dead from hunger yet?"

"Look at these rags, they stink to high heaven. Get away, don't dirty this Young Master's shoes!"

"Hahaha, look at his eyes, like a mad dog. Does he still want to bite people?"

The harsh laughter and sharp mockery were like knives, tearing through the peace of the afternoon.

Chu Changsheng looked up.

In a corner of the square, he saw seven or eight young men and women in bright, silk and satin clothing surrounding someone tightly.

They all wore mocking expressions, their eyes filled with contempt, as if they were observing some dirty filth.

The leading youth in fine clothing even held a folding fan, fanning himself with affected elegance, as if this could dispel the "dirty" Aura.

Surrounded by them in the middle was a youth curled up in a corner.

The youth looked no more than thirteen or fourteen, his frame pitifully thin and small, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

The thin clothes on his body had long since lost their original color and material, with only countless strips of rags barely hanging on his body, fluttering in the wind.

The exposed skin was covered in grime and layers of overlapping new and old bruises and scars—blue, purple, brown, layered upon layer, a shocking sight.

It was late autumn, and the cold wind had already risen.

He was shivering from the cold, his lips purple, his exposed hands and feet covered in frostbite, some of which had festered, oozing pus.

In front of him sat a chipped, broken bowl, empty, without even a single grain of rice.

But the most striking thing was his eyes.

What a pair of eyes they were—

Deep-set in his gaunt cheeks, his cheekbones protruded high, making those eye sockets appear even more sunken.

Yet in those sunken sockets, two astonishing flames burned—startlingly bright, startlingly fierce, like two raging fires burning madly in a desperate situation, refusing to be extinguished.

In these flames, the mocking, twisted faces of those around him were reflected, burning with endless grief and indignation, bone-deep humiliation, and a heart-trembling stubbornness that was on the verge of collapse yet held onto the last shred of dignity, refusing to let go.

He bit his lower lip tightly.

He had already bitten it until it bled.

Fresh blood flowed down the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his ragged collar, yet he did not make a sound.

He only used those flame-like eyes to stare, one by one, at everyone surrounding him.

This gaze was not like a plea for mercy, nor like begging for pity—

It was more like he was using every ounce of his strength to brand these faces, these voices, these laughs, stroke by stroke, into the depths of his Soul, carving them into the marrow of his bones.

A youth in fine clothing seemed to be stung by this gaze.

This gaze was too bright, bright enough to make his heart creep, making him feel an inexplicable chill.

He became angry from embarrassment, stepped forward, and raised his foot to kick the broken bowl in front of the youth—

"What are you looking at! You unlucky thing!"

The youth's body tensed up suddenly.

In this instant, the flames in those eyes suddenly erupted with a desperate and crazy light.

In this light, there was the determination to burn together, the unyielding backbone that would rather die than submit, and the viciousness to bite off a piece of the other person even if he were smashed to pieces—as if he were about to perish together with the descending silk boot.