Slap the face of a simp

Purple Bamboo Peak.

Clouds rose like steam, purple mists drifted from the east.

This should have been the most serene and elegant location among the thirty-six peaks of the Taichu Holy Land—thousands of purple bamboos grew along the mountainside, rustling like ten thousand swords whispering in the wind when the breeze passed; spiritual mists never dissipated year-round, refracting dreamlike pale purple halos in the morning light; a waterfall cascaded from the peak's summit, its splashing droplets carrying wisps of Spiritual Qi, nourishing the mountain's rare flowers and exotic herbs.

But at this moment,

This serenity was utterly shattered.

A thick, pale blue light curtain enveloped the entire mountain peak, impenetrably dense. The curtain was a full three feet thick, its surface flowing with intricate runic patterns, each slowly rotating and emitting a low hum.

That was the Mountain-protecting Formation.

In the eight thousand years since the Taichu Holy Land was founded, this Formation had only been activated three times.

The first was a thousand years ago when the demonic Sect invaded, and the Holy Land faced calamity; the second was three hundred years ago when the Holy Revered Master underwent tribulation and needed to isolate external interference; the third... was today.

And it was activated at full power.

Every purple bamboo rustled in the wind with an unprecedented 'shushing' sound, no longer the elegant and melodious rustle of the past but carrying a sharp, murderous edge, as if millions of unsheathed sharp swords were grinding against each other.

Deep in the bamboo forest, several spiritual cranes that had nested there for years were frightened by this commotion, flapping their wings and taking flight. They circled in the air a few times, not daring to land, and finally turned to flee to the neighboring Green Bamboo Peak for refuge.

Su Ye stood before the mountain gate, looking at the impregnable, airtight Mountain-protecting Formation before him, feeling a tingling sensation from his forehead all the way to the nape of his neck.

This wasn't a Mountain-protecting Formation.

This was clearly a cage to keep out thieves.

And he was the 'thief' about to enter the cage.

"Senior Brother, maybe... we should hide in the Scripture Pavilion for a few days?"

Lin Waner huddled behind him, her two hands tightly clutching five bulging Storage Pouches at her waist, looking like a hamster guarding its food.

Though she was greedy for wealth, she valued her life more.

And she valued it very, very, extremely much.

"Revered Master... seems truly angry this time."

Her voice was extremely low, almost squeezed out from between her teeth, as she cautiously glanced toward the mountaintop while speaking.

Su Ye didn't make a sound.

Of course, he knew Revered Master was angry.

And not just ordinarily angry.

That kind of anger wasn't thunderous rage, nor was it harsh words—it was—

Calm.

Too calm.

So calm it sent chills down his spine.

From his understanding of Revered Master, if she were truly enraged, she wouldn't rush down the mountain to chase and beat him. She would simply sit in the Cold Jade Palace, brew a pot of tea, and wait for him to walk into the trap.

And now, he was walking toward that trap.

"What's there to fear."

Su Ye straightened his collar, forcing himself to stand tall.

Today, he wore that new moon-white robe, its collar and cuffs embroidered with faint cloud patterns. It was made from High Grade heavenly silk fabric that Lin Waner had scavenged from the market last month, and she had begged a seamstress from the foot of the mountain to work overtime for half a month to finish it.

He had originally thought to dress smartly, appearing open and aboveboard, with a clear conscience.

But standing before the Formation now, this new robe gave him a sense of absurdity, as if he were 'dressing respectably before his end.'

He unfolded his folding fan and gently waved it.

On the fan's surface were four characters he had personally inscribed—'Skilled Hands, Benevolent Heart.'

The ink was still fresh.

He stared at those four characters for three breaths, feeling somewhat guilty himself.

Going to Divine Weapon Peak for a 'free clinic,' emptying most of their armory, and even swiping the peak's treasure sword embryo on the way out... this 'benevolent heart' indeed seemed rather unqualified.

"Senior Brother, maybe we should return some of the stuff?"

Lin Waner tentatively asked.

"Return?"

Su Ye glanced at her.

Lin Waner immediately clutched the five Storage Pouches even tighter: "Forget I said anything."

Su Ye withdrew his gaze and continued staring at the mountain gate.

He didn't step inside.

He was waiting.

Waiting for a way out.

Or waiting for Revered Master's anger to subside.

Or waiting for a heavenly disaster to smash a hole in this terrifying Mountain-protecting Formation—though he knew that was even less realistic than waiting for him to break through to Soul Transformation.

Lin Qianxue stood quietly to the side the entire time, holding the sword embryo wrapped in layers of cloth strips in her arms.

The sword embryo was still scalding hot.

Through three layers of sealing cloth strips, through the isolation array of the Storage Pouch, that intense heat still penetrated the multiple barriers, like a heart that never cooled, steadily pulsing in her palm.

Her gaze wasn't fixed on the Formation, nor on the mountaintop.

She looked at Su Ye's profile.

At his slightly tense jawline as he forced himself to appear calm, at his somewhat stiff wrist as he waved the fan.

She knew Senior Brother was afraid.

But she also knew Senior Brother would never flee.

From the day she joined Purple Bamboo Peak, Senior Brother had always been this kind of person.

No matter how big the trouble he caused, no matter who he faced—Elders, Peak Revered Masters, even the Holy Revered Master—he always stood at the forefront.

That face always carrying a hint of a smile, as if nothing mattered.

But she remembered.

Three years ago, when she first entered the Holy Land, she was ostracized due to her special Physique. It was Senior Brother who found her crying in the bamboo grove under the moonlight. He didn't ask anything, just draped his outer robe over her shoulders and said, 'People of Purple Bamboo Peak don't live on their knees.'

At that moment, she knew.

In this lifetime, she would draw her sword only for this person.

"Senior Brother, someone's here."

She suddenly spoke, her clear, cold voice cutting through the silence.

Not perception.

Instinct.

The most primal alertness of her Innate Sword Heart's clarity toward killing intent.

As soon as she finished speaking.

Hum—

The air before the mountain gate plaza abruptly distorted.

It wasn't ordinary Spiritual Qi fluctuation but the unique spatial tremor of a highly advanced concealment Formation being withdrawn.

Swish, swish, swish!

Thirteen black figures materialized out of thin air.

They appeared without warning, as if stepping out from a void rift or as if they had always been standing there, only now permitted to be seen.

Thirteen people.

All wearing identical black law enforcement robes.

The robe's material was extremely special, neither silk nor hemp, actually not reflecting sunlight but devouring light like an abyss. The robe's hem was embroidered with dark red cloud and thunder patterns—the unique emblem of the Law Enforcement Hall: clouds symbolizing surveillance over the world, thunder symbolizing thunderous methods.

Each person wore a palm-sized token at their waist.

The token was made entirely of black jade, with 'Law Enforcement' engraved on the front and their respective names on the back.

That was the Law Enforcement Token.

In the three thousand years since the Taichu Holy Land established the Law Enforcement Hall, only forty-nine had ever been forged.

Seeing the token was like seeing the Peak Revered Master; holding it allowed command of half the Holy Land's Disciples.

And now, there were thirteen here.

The leader was tall and slender, with sallow skin, high cheekbones, and narrow, triangular eyes that, when slightly squinted, emitted a light colder than blades from the thin slits.

He didn't deliberately restrain his Aura.

Soul Transformation Realm, Third Heaven.

And he was a seasoned expert who had been in the Soul Transformation Realm for at least three hundred years, his Foundation as solid as the roots of a thousand-year-old tree, definitely not a hollow Realm propped up by Medicinal Pills.

He stood there, doing nothing, yet the surrounding air seemed to solidify.

The usually lively purple bamboos didn't dare rustle a single leaf.

Beside him stood a young man.

Around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, fairly handsome with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, standing tall and straight.

Unfortunately, his gaze was off.

Too arrogant.

Not the arrogance of a young prodigy looking down on the world, but a petty arrogance—as if afraid others wouldn't know who he was or how powerful he was.

He also held a folding fan.

The fan was open, depicting a 'Ten Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains' painting.

The artistry was good, from a Revered Master's hand.

Unfortunately, in his hands, it didn't match his temperament at all, like a monkey stealing human clothes but unable to carry the human demeanor.

Su Ye only glanced once before looking away.

Not out of fear.

Because it hurt his eyes.

"Law Enforcement Hall."

He didn't phrase it as a question.

These three words came from his mouth in a flat tone, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if merely stating a fact: the sky cleared, it rained, the Law Enforcement Hall arrived.

Then, the corners of his mouth slowly lifted.

That smile was excessively bright, so bright it was almost blinding.

"So, what wind blew Elder Cangsong here?"

His voice was light and cheerful, as if making casual conversation.

"Could it be you heard about my tireless efforts in the 'free clinic' at Divine Weapon Peak and came specifically to deliver a commendation banner?"

Elder Cangsong didn't speak.

He just looked at Su Ye as if looking at a dead man.

But the young man beside him clearly lacked such patience.

"Su Ye!"

The young man stepped forward, his folding fan snapping shut with a 'swish,' the tip pointing directly at Su Ye's nose.

The fan tip was less than three inches from Su Ye's face, carrying a sharp qi force. An ordinary person would have been forced back by this Aura.

But Su Ye didn't move an inch.

He didn't even blink.

"You openly plundered Divine Weapon Peak, assaulted fellow Disciples, showed no respect for Elders, and treated the Holy Land's rules as nothing!"

"Today, I, Li Mu, represent the Law Enforcement Hall to arrest you and hold you accountable!"

Li Mu.

Chief Disciple of the Law Enforcement Hall.

Nascent Soul Stage, Seventh Heaven.

Among the younger generation of the Taichu Holy Land, he was also a notable figure. He entered the Nascent Soul Stage at twenty-three and reached the Seventh Heaven at twenty-seven, considered a Genius in any era.

He could never understand why Su Ye of Purple Bamboo Peak was so famous.

In terms of cultivation, he was only at the Nascent Soul Stage, Third Heaven, not worth mentioning before him.

In terms of battle achievements, he had only slain a few Yao Beasts during training missions—who hadn't?

In terms of background, an orphan picked up from who-knows-where, not even knowing who his birth parents were.

Why?

Why did he get to enjoy the best resources of Purple Bamboo Peak?

Why did he get to have those two stunning Junior Sisters?

Why, whenever the Holy Land mentioned the younger generation, was it always 'Su Ye of Purple Bamboo Peak' first, and only then him, Li Mu?

He wasn't convinced.

He had been unconvinced for a long time.

Today, he finally got his chance.

Su Ye glanced at him.

That gaze was very faint.

Faint as if looking at a stone blocking the roadside.

No.

Looking at a stone, one would at least notice its shape and size, whether it might trip someone.

Looking at Li Mu, there was nothing in that gaze—pure indifference.

Then, he turned his head and looked at Lin Waner.

Lin Waner was glaring at Li Mu, her cheeks puffed up like a pufferfish, looking like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, ready to pounce and scratch at any moment.

Su Ye looked at her, his tone serious, his expression grave:

"Waner, has our Purple Bamboo Peak's garbage sorting not been done properly?"

Lin Waner was stunned: "Huh?"

"How can any stray cat or dog come yapping at our mountain gate?"

"Logically, such large waste should be sent directly to the incinerator."

Lin Waner froze for a moment.

Then, she covered her mouth, her whole body trembling like bamboo leaves in the wind.

She didn't dare laugh out loud.

But she really couldn't hold it in.

"Senior Brother is right!"

She desperately stifled her laughter, her face turning bright red, her voice changing pitch:

"I'll have the Utility Disciples prepare more trash bins specifically for collecting this kind of..."

Her eyes rolled, thinking of a perfect term:

"This kind of—hazardous waste."

"Bastard!"

Li Mu's face instantly turned the color of pig liver.

It was an extremely spectacular color.

Starting from his earlobes, spreading to his cheeks, forehead, neck—his entire face looked as if it had been soaked in a dye vat for three days and nights.

How dare he?

Before his Revered Master, before the thirteen Law Enforcement Hall Disciples, before the Purple Bamboo Peak mountain gate—a place where countless Disciples stopped to gaze in admiration—

How dare he insult him like this?!

"Su Ye, you're looking for death!"

Boom—

The Aura of the Nascent Soul Stage, Seventh Heaven, erupted without restraint.

This wasn't a spar.

This wasn't a show of force.

This was murderous intent.

Li Mu's Spiritual Qi surged around him, condensing into a pale green phantom behind him—the Nascent Soul phenomenon of the wind attribute. His Cultivation Technique followed a path of agility and speed, emphasizing a single strike to kill, leaving no room.

The folding fan in his hand suddenly snapped open.

It wasn't an ordinary fan at all.

The fan ribs were forged from thousand-year cold iron, each engraved with three miniature Formations; the fan surface appeared to be paper but was actually the wing membrane of a shape-shifting stage Yao Beast, as tough as refined steel.

This fan was one of the Law Enforcement Hall's treasure artifacts.

Personally bestowed by the Holy Revered Master, named 'Thousand Blades.'

"Profound Rank Peak Martial Skill—Thousand Leaves Kill!"

Swish, swish, swish!

The fan ribs trembled.

Each fan rib shot out dozens of wind blades, densely packed, hundreds in total, sweeping toward Su Ye like a tidal wave.

Those wind blades weren't randomly fired.

They interwove in the air into an impenetrable net.

The upper three paths targeted the throat, brow, and crown of the head.

The middle three paths targeted the heart, Dantian, and Qi Sea.

The lower three paths targeted both knees and ankles.

Each wind blade's angle was extremely tricky, sealing off all possible evasion.

This was a killing move.

This was Li Mu's trump card, his ultimate skill.

He had once used this move to defeat an opponent at the Nascent Soul Stage, Eighth Heaven, in a single strike during the Sect's grand competition.

"Senior Brother, be careful!"

Lin Waner exclaimed, her hand already reaching toward her waist.

In her Storage Pouch was a Mysterious Tortoise Shield she had just 'rescued' from Divine Weapon Peak, Earth Rank Medium Grade, with astonishing defensive power. Once summoned, these wind blades would be nothing to fear.

But Su Ye reached out and stopped her.

"Step back."

His voice was very soft, very calm.

Like the spring breeze in March.

Lin Waner paused, then obediently retreated three zhang away.

She trusted Senior Brother.

No reason needed.

Countless wind blades whistled as they arrived.

Su Ye stood in place, not moving an inch.

He didn't even close that folding fan inscribed with 'Miao Shou Ren Xin' (Skilled Hands, Benevolent Heart).

He just stood there like that.

The cold glint of the wind blades illuminated his face, casting mottled light and shadow on that perpetually smiling countenance.

Then he spoke.

"Too slow."

There was no mockery in his tone, no anger, not even contempt.

Only disappointment.

Like a teacher looking at a student who handed in a blank exam.

"Not just slow, but weak."

"Junior Brother Li, this move of yours looks flashy, but it's full of openings."

"Although there are many wind blades, each one's force is less than thirty percent. Clearly, you're forcibly activating a Martial Skill beyond your capacity, causing your spiritual power to scatter."

"And—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Li Mu's slightly bluish eye circles, somewhat sallow complexion, and the faintly trembling fingers gripping the fan.

"It seems Junior Brother Li has been 'studying' quite a bit at the Hehuan Sect lately."

"This body of yours is terribly weak."

Before the words faded.

Su Ye moved.

No one saw how he moved.

Lin Qianxue was a Sword Cultivator, with an Innate Sword Heart that was clear and bright, her eyesight far surpassing her peers. She saw her Senior Brother take a step, the angle of that step extremely tricky, precisely slotting into the gap between two intersecting wind blades—a gap only three inches wide, fleeting in an instant.

She saw her Senior Brother turn sideways.

The degree of that turn was terrifyingly precise; the largest wind blade brushed past the edge of his robe without severing a single thread.

She saw her Senior Brother raise his hand.

The speed of that raise exceeded the limit her optic nerves could capture.

Not just fast.

It was 'just right' fast.

One part faster than Li Mu's attack, one part faster than Li Mu's defense, one part faster than Li Mu's reaction.

No more, no less.

Exactly one part.

Then—

"Slap!"

A slap.

Crisp.

Loud.

Clean and neat.

No fancy techniques, no spiritual power enhancement.

Purely the power of the Physical Body.

But Su Ye's Physical Body was one remolded by the Supreme Bone.

That seemingly slender body contained power comparable to a holy weapon!

"Ah—!"

Li Mu let out a miserable cry, his entire person flying sideways.

He spun three hundred sixty degrees in the air.

Then spun another three hundred sixty degrees.

A full three and a half rotations.

That Thousand Blade Fan he was so proud of flew out of his hand, spinning through the air before skewering diagonally into the ground three zhang away, a long, thin crack splitting the fan surface.

He crashed onto the ground.

The granite-paved ground was smashed into a shallow pit, spiderweb-like cracks spreading outward from his body.

Half of his cheek was unrecognizable from its original shape.

Swollen like a steamed bun.

No.

More exaggerated than a steamed bun.

It was like over-fermented dough, red and purple, the skin stretched almost transparent, faintly revealing the engorged capillaries beneath.

He opened his mouth to speak.

What came out wasn't words.

It was blood.

Blood mixed with a mouthful of shattered teeth.

A full twelve of them.

He struggled to raise a hand to touch his face, feeling a strange, swollen, scalding mass of flesh.

His vision went black.

Whether from pain or rage, he didn't know.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

The thirteen Disciples of the Law Enforcement Hall seemed to have been collectively hit with a paralysis curse.

They stood there, dumbfounded, like clay or wooden statues.

That was Senior Brother Li Mu.

Senior Brother Li Mu at the seventh level of the Nascent Soul Stage.

The chief Disciple of the Law Enforcement Hall, the pinnacle of combat strength among the younger generation of the Law Enforcement Hall.

One move.

No, not one move.

A slap.

Knocked flying with just one slap?

Su Ye took out a handkerchief.

It was a fine cloud brocade handkerchief, soft in texture, with a small purple bamboo embroidered at the edge.

He unhurriedly wiped his right hand, from the base of his fingers to the tips, cleaning each finger meticulously, not even missing the nail crevices.

Then he casually tossed the handkerchief onto the ground.

The snow-white handkerchief landed on a pool of bloodstain, quickly soaking up specks of crimson.

"The skin is too thick, the feel is terrible."

His voice was faint, as if commenting on today's weather.

"I suggest you go back and sand it down with sandpaper."

"How dare you, you brat!"

An angry roar, like thunderclaps exploding!

Elder Cangsong finally moved.

He couldn't not move.

Beating his Disciple right in front of him.

This wasn't just slapping Li Mu's face.

This was slapping his, Cangsong's, face!

This was slapping the entire Law Enforcement Hall's face!

If word of today's events spread—'The chief Disciple of the Law Enforcement Hall was slapped flying by Su Ye of Purple Bamboo Peak, with the Law Enforcement Hall Elder watching the whole time, not daring to intervene'—what face would he, Cangsong, have left to stand on in the Taichu Holy Land?

Rumble—

The full pressure of the third level of the Soul Transformation Realm was unleashed.

That wasn't the flashy show Li Mu had put on.

That was genuine, three-hundred-year-accumulated Soul Transformation pressure.

The surrounding air seemed to have been drained, replaced by a thousand-jun weight of invisible pressure.

The purple bamboo in the square bent under this pressure, the bamboo stalks emitting creaking groans of strain. Some of the thinner ones had their bark directly split, oozing crystalline sap.

Lin Waner grunted, feeling as if a boulder was pressing on her chest, making even breathing difficult.

She was only at the Golden Core Stage; before Soul Transformation pressure, she was like an ant.

But she didn't retreat.

She gritted her teeth and stood, stubbornly staring at Elder Cangsong, her eyes like a mother wolf protecting her cubs.

Lin Qianxue also paled slightly.

Her cultivation at the first level of the Nascent Soul Stage was two major Realms below the third level of Soul Transformation.

But she similarly didn't retreat.

She slightly turned sideways, holding the sword embryo in her arms tighter.

Her left hand was already on the hilt.

Su Ye still didn't move.

He stood right at the center of the pressure, bearing the fiercest impact.

His robes flapped wildly from the pressure, his long hair danced wildly in the wind, a few strands falling over his forehead.

But his back was straight as a sword.

He looked at Elder Cangsong, his gaze terrifyingly calm.

"Su Ye!"

Elder Cangsong's beard and hair bristled, his originally sallow face now flushed crimson.

He flipped his right hand, and an iron whip appeared in his palm.

The iron whip was pitch-black all over, about three chi long, its body covered in dense runes. Those runes weren't carved on but fused into the material's interior by some special method, shimmering faintly in the light like living things.

The whip's head was carved with a ferocious ghost face, glaring eyes and fangs, lifelike.

The Soul-Slaying Whip.

A High Grade Earth Rank Magic Treasure.

Specifically injures the Divine Soul, not the Physical Body.

Those struck by this whip remain physically unharmed but suffer severe Divine Soul damage. Light cases result in cultivation regression; severe cases lead to impaired intelligence, reduced to idiocy.

This was the torture tool used by the Law Enforcement Hall for interrogating serious criminals.

Extremely sinister.

"If I don't teach you, this lawless Rebellious Disciple, a lesson on behalf of your Revered Master today!"

"Then I'm not Cangsong!"

He raised the Soul-Slaying Whip.

The black whip transformed into a venomous snake, carrying a nauseating foul wind, tearing through the air, aiming straight for Su Ye's knees!

If this whip landed.

Su Ye's knees would surely shatter.

Not just the bones.

Tendons, blood vessels, flesh—all shattered.

He'd never stand up again in this lifetime.

A cold glint flashed in Lin Qianxue's eyes.

The sword embryo left its sheath by three inches.

In that instant, the temperature of the entire square dropped a few degrees.

"Don't move."

Su Ye's voice sounded in her mind, calm, steady.

"This old thing isn't worthy of you drawing your sword."

Lin Qianxue's hand on the hilt stopped.

She looked at her Senior Brother's back.

That back wasn't broad, even somewhat thin.

But she knew.

As long as this back stood in front of her, the sky wouldn't collapse.

The Soul-Slaying Whip whistled forth.

Three zhang.

Two zhang.

One zhang.

Su Ye even yawned.

He slightly opened his mouth, revealing a row of neat white teeth.

That yawn was extremely relaxed, his eyes narrowed to slits, a tear even welling up at the corner of his eye.

Then he lowered his head, looking at the Soul-Slaying Whip about to land on his knees.

Looking at Elder Cangsong's ferociously twisted face behind the whip.

He spoke.

His voice was soft, as if talking to himself.

"Teach me a lesson?"

"Old dog Cangsong."

"Are you even worthy?"

Hum—

His chest.

That Supreme Bone that had slept for sixteen years.

Gently trembled once.

The tremor was extremely slight, like a sleeping person unconsciously turning over.

But just this gentle tremble.

A terrifying Aura originating from the primordial chaos of antiquity suddenly erupted!

That wasn't spiritual power.

Wasn't pressure.

Wasn't anything a human Cultivator could Cultivate.

That was absolute suppression of life hierarchy.

That was the Aura of the first bone, the first king, from when heaven and earth first opened, billions of years ago.

That was—

The gaze of a king.

"What... what is this?!"

Elder Cangsong's pupils contracted violently, shrinking to almost pinprick size.

He had lived three hundred years.

In three hundred years, he had seen the heavenly might of a holy lord Undergoing Tribulation, seen the overwhelming evil flames of a demon Sect leader, seen the true form of a great Yao Race sage.

But he had never felt such an Aura.

That wasn't 'strong'.

That was 'supreme'.

As if an ant looked up at a divine dragon, as if mortal dust knelt before the heavenly court.

His proud Soul Transformation pressure, before this Aura, was like snow under the scorching sun, crumbling instantly!

No.

Not 'crumbling'.

Was 'submitting'.

His pressure was actually submitting to that Aura!

The Soul-Slaying Whip in his hand.

That whip that had followed him for two hundred years, drunk the blood of countless strong Cultivators.

Now halted abruptly in mid-air.

The whip body trembled violently, emitting mournful whimpers.

Those whimpers held no anger, no Battle Intent.

Only fear.

That was the instinctual fear of a low-rank Magic Treasure facing a king.

"The one who should kneel is you."

Su Ye took a step forward.

This step, landed on the ground.

Boom!

The entire mountain gate square trembled three times.

Centered on Su Ye's foot, the ground sank into a shallow pit.

Not a depression caused by spiritual power impact.

It was 'unable to bear'.

Unable to bear the pressure of that Aura, it collapsed on its own.

Elder Cangsong felt his knees go weak.

An irresistible tremendous force descended from the sky, pressing on his shoulders, pressing on his spine.

"No... impossible..."

His teeth chattered.

Click-click-click-click—that wasn't gritting teeth; it was an uncontrollable physiological reaction.

"You're only at the Nascent Soul Stage... how could you have such pressure?!"

He desperately urged his Dantian.

Three hundred years of cultivation, now like a pot of boiling water, surged madly through his Meridians.

He wanted to resist.

He had to resist.

He was an Elder.

Among the thirty-six peaks of the Taichu Holy Land, aside from the twelve peak Revered Masters, they, the influential Elders, held the highest status.

If he knelt to a Disciple.

How could he ever mingle in the Holy Land again?

How would those Disciples he had punished, those Juniors who looked at him like the King of Hell, gossip behind his back?

He couldn't afford to lose this face!

"Still holding on?"

Su Ye's lips curled into a mocking arc.

He took another step.

This step didn't land on the ground.

This step landed on Elder Cangsong's mental defenses.

At the same time.

Su Ye secretly activated the Heaven Swallowing Demonic Art.

The moment the technique activated, the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi within a thirty-zhang radius seemed to have been violently sucked away.

Not slowly draining.

Not gradually thinning.

In an instant.

Like a full pond suddenly having its plug pulled.

That Spiritual Qi swirled, madly rushing toward Su Ye's body, toward that trembling Supreme Bone in his chest.

Spiritual Qi vacuum.

Absolute Spiritual Qi vacuum.

Elder Cangsong's protective spiritual light, originally the sturdiest barrier of a Soul Transformation expert, now rapidly dimmed.

The spiritual power within his body was uncontrollably leaking outward!

Not just leaking.

Was plundering.

As if an invisible giant mouth was greedily devouring his cultivation.

"You... what Demonic Technique are you cultivating?!"

Elder Cangsong finally panicked.

He felt his cultivation Realm loosening.

That kind of looseness he knew too well.

Three hundred years ago, when he failed to break through to Soul Transformation, nearly falling in Realm. That year, his cultivation was similarly unstable, like a sand pile that could collapse at any moment.

But that was due to Heavenly Tribulation backlash.

And now, he wasn't Undergoing Tribulation.

He wasn't injured.

He was just facing a Junior at the Nascent Soul Stage!

"Demonic Technique?"

Su Ye walked up to Elder Cangsong.

His steps were slow, steady, as if strolling in his own backyard.

He stopped before Elder Cangsong.

The two were only three chi apart.

At this distance, Su Ye could clearly see every trembling wrinkle on Elder Cangsong's face, every drop of cold sweat sliding down.

"No no no."

Su Ye shook his head, his expression serious.

"This is medical skill."

He reached out, pointing down at Elder Cangsong's glabella from above.

"I see the Elder's glabella is dark, his qi disordered, clearly advanced-stage 'Menopause Syndrome'."

"This condition often occurs in old Cultivators over five hundred years old, with stagnant cultivation and long-term accumulated depression. Symptoms include but are not limited to: liver fire attacking the heart, unclear mind, inability to bear seeing young people doing well."

"As the Eldest Senior Brother of Purple Bamboo Peak, and honorary president of the Holy Land Red Cross Society, I have an obligation to help you cool that fire."