Chapter Fourteen: Words of Justice

Under the twilight in Xiaohe Village, a fierce and brutal battle raged on.

After transcending, the Qi practitioners’ hearing far exceeded that of ordinary people. Soon, all the Qi practitioners sensed the sudden outbreak of conflict.

One by one, several Qi practitioners dressed in various styles emerged from their homes or leapt onto rooftops, watching the commotion from afar.

“So fierce, an unparalleled savage,” one Qi practitioner muttered in astonishment, witnessing Chen Xuan effortlessly crush the young third brother of the Zheng family, widening his eyes in disbelief.

“The three Zheng brothers are skilled and persuasive—why did it come to this? They’re being driven to a living death,” another practitioner frowned slightly.

“What good are they? The newcomers just can’t stand their arrogance,” someone sneered, feeling a secret satisfaction that someone was finally suppressing these unruly wanderers.

In recent days, the Zheng brothers had committed many misdeeds. Yet, due to their formidable strength and social savvy, they hadn’t made enemies among their peers, so most practitioners turned a blind eye.

“No, I live next door and heard everything clearly… Zheng Tu shouldn’t have stepped in with his left foot first; that’s what angered them,” a practitioner who arrived early declared confidently.

“Does that make any sense?” others spread their hands, bewildered.

Are you trying to fool children? If you wanted to kill, just say so. This excuse is laughable and insulting.

Further away, several practitioners from the Chu and Li families sat on rooftops, dumbfounded as they watched the chaotic scene in the courtyard.

“Fire Stick Grandpa, am I seeing things? Is that Xiao Wang? Brother Wang?” a young girl with peach-blossom eyes, Chu Qingling, pointed at the blood-soaked, domineering figure in the courtyard, her gaze dazed.

Her impression of him remained stuck in that snowy broken temple: handsome, warm-hearted, a simple mountain hermit who once treated them to roasted meat on a snowy day.

Even after her grandfather’s recent collaboration with him to escape Taotown, that image had barely shifted.

But now, that image was shattered utterly, as if the tolling of a bell struck directly into her heart.

Chu Fire Stick himself was stunned, trembling as he struggled to explain: “Uh, this martial arts-born Qi practitioner is… like this…”

He had witnessed Chen Xuan’s battles firsthand: fists like raging storms smashing a bronze horsehead into a crooked mess; later trapping a four-eyed godman in a corner, beating his body out of shape until unrecognizable.

After consuming a terrestrial treasure tree, Chen Xuan’s transcendence advanced further, his strength doubling.

Now, those brutal heavy punches struck living men, resulting in such horrific scenes.

Martial arts practitioners, especially those like Chen Xuan who trained in hard skills, became terrifyingly violent and savage once they clashed…

The Li family patriarch, witnessing Chen Xuan, felt a strange chill. This young man’s strength exceeded even the old man Chu’s description by several degrees—a formidable opponent he himself wished to avoid.

“This has gone too far. Even if the Zheng brothers are unsightly, a slight punishment would suffice… but this one kills too ruthlessly,” the Li patriarch said after a long pause.

“He’s not one of us orthodox Qi practitioners.”

For the sake of some insignificant mortals, why push matters to such an irreversible extreme?

If one treats fellow Qi practitioners so harshly, how can others view him? Those who follow the right path gather support; those who stray are left isolated.

Suddenly, an unexpected turn arose. Some practitioners could no longer stand idly by.

“Brethren, cease fighting! Let me speak a word of fairness…”

A large, robust monk clad in kasaya, his face ruddy and hands playing with prayer beads, approached the courtyard with a compassionate expression.

His soothing, resonant voice echoed like a dragon’s roar, carrying far.

“The great monk from Xuankong Temple has come to mediate,” an observant practitioner whispered.

Despite his drunken smell, the monk’s status was considerable; rumors said he was a secular disciple from a major ancient Chu sect, with cultivation not inferior to Zheng Tu.

His intervention at this moment would carry great weight, regardless of which side he supported.

“Why didn’t he speak earlier or later? Now that the young man holds the upper hand, the monk steps in with his fairness,” one practitioner muttered.

Chu Qingling pointed anxiously at the monk. “Fire Stick Grandpa, that monk is not a good man… they’re all in cahoots.”

She had arrived in Xiaohe Village earlier and had seen the monk and the Zheng brothers venture south together seeking fortune.

Chu Fire Stick frowned deeply, whispering, “Don’t rush to judge—let’s see how things unfold.”

The Li family head said coldly, “This farce should end now.”

He anticipated what would follow: with the monk’s forceful entrance, the young man Xiao Wang and Zheng Tu would have to swallow their pride, apologize to each other, shake hands, and bury their grudges.

After all, Xiao Wang’s strength was only slightly above Zheng Tu’s; if the fight dragged on, he too risked injury.

In the small courtyard, the monk’s prayer beads spun as a solemn aura enveloped him, dispersing the smell of wine and makeup.

Stepping out, his resonant voice carried: “Brethren, cease fighting! Let me speak a word of fairness…”

At that moment, the two fighters were locked in a white-hot battle.

“I will never let you live!” Zheng Tu roared, his fury and hatred pushing his power to its peak, his blade flashing blood and death in all directions.

“You deserve to die!” Chen Xuan met him head-on with a ferocity beyond imagination, each punch smashing down Zheng Tu’s arrogance.

Amid this, the renowned monk of Xiaohe Village seized the chance to speak “fairness.”

The atmosphere suddenly froze.

The entire courtyard, even the whole village, fell silent for a moment, all Qi practitioners fixated on the scene.

Unexpectedly, Chen Xuan suddenly turned, pointed at the monk, and snapped, “Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”

No one had anticipated this shocking turn.

In the midst of their perilous clash, the young man heard the mediation and coldly unleashed his killing intent, locking it upon the monk like an overwhelming storm.

The monk’s face darkened instantly, his eyes blazing like a wrathful Vajra. “You…”

“Boom!”

A stone mill weighing thousands of pounds was seized by the young man and slammed down like a mountain, sending the monk flying backward into a distant house, causing the ground to tremble.

Under the twilight, nearly all Qi practitioners in Xiaohe Village were stunned by this unexpected scene.

Perched atop a courtyard wall, a black cat sat upright, its crescent-shaped eyes half-hidden, watching the unfolding drama with keen interest.

The courtyard wall collapsed as the stone mill, wrapped in immortal Qi, crushed the monk, who groaned “Amitabha…”

Half his body, along with an arm, was pinned beneath the mill. He struggled briefly before being buried under falling beams and bricks.

A strange atmosphere was spreading through Xiaohe Village.

“Some ‘fair words’ don’t apply to everyone…” Chu Fire Stick murmured.

At this moment, Chen Xuan’s attitude revealed itself in an unreservedly domineering fashion.

You want peace?

Fine. He’d rather forsake the hard-won advantage in battle than allow you to remain.

The monk was brutalized and flung away without so much as a chance to resist.

“I… I’m a little afraid of him,” some Qi practitioners quietly admitted.

Such a resolute and unyielding person, once targeted, leaves no choice but to fight to the death.

“Old man Chu, this Xiao Wang brother’s ruthless slaughter of fellow practitioners and violent ways cannot last,” the Li patriarch suddenly shook his head and said firmly.

“In youth, relying on martial skill to bully and fight, one may be fierce for a time. But in old age, when vitality wanes, he will find enemies everywhere and meet an unhappy end…”

Chu Fire Stick glanced at him, then quietly said to his grandchildren, “Old man Li is surely intimidated by Xiao Wang, so he deliberately speaks ill. You mustn’t follow him.”

The Li patriarch fell silent.

In the courtyard—

“Master!!”

Zheng Tu, witnessing the monk crushed by the stone mill, finally felt a flicker of fear.

“Even Buddha won’t save you now!” Chen Xuan’s attitude was clear: anyone who dares to intervene at this moment is an enemy to be slain.

Everyone makes choices at crucial moments, and the consequences follow immediately.

“Clang!”

Gritting his teeth, Zheng Tu unleashed a mighty strike as if cleaving Mount Hua, then swung fiercely before turning to flee the courtyard.

Their powers were clearly similar.

But after just a dozen moves, Zheng Tu was terrified to realize that this killing god’s martial skill rivaled masters who had devoted decades to cultivation. He was utterly outmatched.

Moreover, this young man still had enough strength to dispatch the formidable monk while fighting him. A cold chill swept through Zheng Tu’s body.

Two men with the same four-thousand-pound strength—why was he losing so badly?

“Shh!”

Chen Xuan pursued relentlessly. Zheng Tu swung a blade as he turned, but Chen Xuan dodged and crushed the arm holding the knife with a punch.

Zheng Tu could only continue fleeing but was grabbed by the back and dragged down as fists rained upon him.

“Do you have any friends left?” Chen Xuan paused, lifting the mangled Zheng Tu and asking.

Zheng Tu’s head drooped, his mouth making clicking sounds, unconscious.

Chen Xuan looked up, scanning the faces of the practitioners watching from rooftops, then scoffed.

“Looks like none…”

Everyone instinctively avoided his gaze.

Some practitioners, feeling embarrassed, lifted their heads again to stare defiantly—but the gaze had already passed on.

In the next moment—

Zheng Tu, a fierce black-faced hero ranked among the top five in Xiaohe Village’s transcendent Qi practitioners, was mercilessly killed by Chen Xuan before all eyes.

Unrestrained…

Zheng Tu was usually kind, but when enraged, he was ferocious and forbidding.

Now, Chen Xuan displayed an image three degrees more brutal than any villain.

“Whoosh…”

Countless square-holed, round white joss paper bills fluttered down from the sky.

In the distance, rows of prayer flags fluttered in the wind like ghostly flames…