Chapter 273 I’ll handle it
Li Nanting sat quietly by the window of a teahouse, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where
dark clouds gradually gathered. A sense of irritation crept over him. “Rain again? Damn it, I hate
the rain.”
Li Nanting—a cultivator at the fifth level of the Qi Refining Stage.
As a child, his parents succumbed to illness, dying wretchedly in their home.
His elder sister, the only family he had left, became a servant for a wealthy landowner in
Yuncang County to support him. At the time, Li Nanting was only five years old.
However, the landowner coveted his sister’s beauty, defiled her, and eventually killed her,
discarding her body in a mass grave.
In the end, he was left utterly alone, a solitary figure in a cruel and merciless world.
That day, too, it had rained. The five-year-old Li Nanting curled up in the corner of a narrow alley
in Yuncang County, his frail body battered by relentless raindrops. Cold seeped into his bones
as he silently awaited the arrival of death, yearning to join his departed parents and his tragically
murdered sister in the afterlife.
It was on that very day that fate intervened. Li Nanting, a boy on the brink of despair,
encountered the benefactor who would change his life forever—Ye Wusheng.
Ye Wusheng took him in, taught him spells and mystical arts, and guided him on the path of
cultivation. He also imparted a darker lesson: the art of killing.
Li Nanting did not disappoint. With his exceptional third-grade spiritual roots, he progressed
rapidly.
At the age of fifteen, driven by unresolved hatred, he secretly returned to Yuncang County. He
sought vengeance for his sister, intending to personally kill the despicable man who had
wronged her.
But what he found instead was a desolate revelation: the landowner’s entire family had already
been wiped out, reportedly the victims of a malevolent spirit.
Frustration filled his heart as he left Yuncang County empty-handed, returning to Ye Wusheng’s
side to continue his relentless pursuit of strength.
Having endured hardship in his youth, Li Nanting understood the grim reality of this brutal world:
without power, one could only face oppression and humiliation.
Just as his parents were powerless to escape death by illness and his sister was powerless to
resist her tragic fate, the weak in this world had no right to struggle, no right to resist.
Only the strong had a voice. Only the strong could defy suffering and injustice.
“Yun Cang’s spiritual-rooted offspring has just left the auction house.”
“I’ve heard they’ve already departed from our Ye Family Market.”
Li Nanting’s eyes remained on the encroaching clouds as the wind picked up outside, carrying
with it the scent of rain. Raindrops began to patter against the teahouse windows.
A woman’s voice reached his ears.
The speaker was a female cultivator dressed in a black robe, her hair tied back in a practical
ponytail. Her features, though not stunning, held a quiet charm and exuded an air of sharp
competence.
Like Li Nanting, she was one of the rogue cultivators Ye Wusheng had privately trained over the
years. Her childhood had been no less bitter than his—an orphan with no family, she had been
taken in by Ye Wusheng after he recognized her potential for cultivation.
“What about the others?”
Li Nanting set his thoughts aside, sipped his spiritual tea, and asked calmly.
“They’ve already gone ahead and are waiting for your command.”
“Shall we set out now, boss?”
The black-robed woman looked at Li Nanting, her tone filled with deference.
“Let’s go.”
Setting down his teacup, Li Nanting rose slowly. Together with the black-robed cultivator, he
vanished silently from the teahouse’s private room.
Outside the Ye Family Market.
A carriage moved slowly through the rain, carrying Yun Yanshui and his two companions toward
Yuncang County.
“Brother, there are ten people following us in secret. Their cultivation ranges from the seventh
level of the Embryo Breath Stage to the first level of Qi Refining.”
Inside the carriage, Yun Yanshuang gently patted the sleeping Yun Wenzhan as she transmitted
her thoughts to her older brother, Yun Yanshui, who sat across from her.
“I know,” Yun Yanshui replied, a faint smile on his lips.
“They’re likely from the Ye Family, aren’t they?”
“Who knows?”
Yun Yanshui chuckled lightly.
“Should I take care of them?”
“Go ahead. Just be careful.”
Hearing her brother’s approval, Yun Yanshuang nodded and instantly vanished from the
carriage, leaving her slumbering younger brother in her brother’s care.
“Yun Yanshuang’s carriage is about to leave our Canglan County territory. Shall we make a
move?”
In the shadows, a group of Ye Family enforcers, who had been tailing the carriage, turned to a
middle-aged man among them.
“Yun Yanshuang’s strength is no joke. Even if we join forces, we’re no match for her. For now,
hold off on making a move. Let’s wait until the boss arrives to act.”
A middle-aged rogue cultivator clad in a black robe stood firm amidst the rain, his face rugged
and marked by a fierce scar running along the corner of his eye. His expression was grim, his
demeanor tense.
Suddenly, his instincts screamed danger. His eyes widened in alarm as he shouted, “Scatter!”
The others barely had time to react to his urgent command.
From a distance, hundreds—no, thousands—of sword auras descended like a torrential storm,
slicing through the rain and converging upon their hidden location.
The middle-aged cultivator, along with two Qi Refinement cultivators by his side, reacted swiftly,
narrowly evading the onslaught.
The others, however, were not so fortunate.
The sharp and unyielding sword auras tore through their ranks with ruthless precision,
annihilating them before they could even utter a cry.
Blood mixed with rain as shattered corpses scattered across the ground, painting the scene in
grotesque red.
The metallic tang of blood filled the air, so thick it was nauseating.
“Damn it! We’ve been discovered!”
“No wonder they call her one of the strongest spiritual-rooted offspring of the Yun family in Yun
Cang… such terrifying power!”
The middle-aged cultivator’s gaze swept over the mangled remains of his comrades, their
bodies so thoroughly destroyed that death had come before any could scream.
Terror gripped his heart as he spotted a figure emerging from the veil of rain.
Wielding a longsword gleaming with spiritual energy, the figure moved toward them with slow,
deliberate steps.
“You’ve followed us this far… what is it that you want?”
Yun Yanshuang gripped her Greenshard Sword tightly, her cold, beautiful eyes locking onto the
three cultivators ahead. Her tone was icy, devoid of warmth.
“Attack!”
The middle-aged cultivator wasted no time in answering her question. Barking out his
command, he immediately launched his assault.
He channeled his spiritual power, slamming his palm into the ground with a deafening roar.
Boom!
The earth trembled violently, the damp soil cracking open as jagged spikes of rock—each ten
meters long—erupted from the ground and shot toward Yun Yanshuang like deadly spears.
Calm and composed, Yun Yanshuang tapped the tip of her foot against the ground, activating
the movement art Treading Snow Without a Trace. She evaded the attack with graceful ease,
her figure darting through the storm of rock like a phantom.
The moment she dodged, the other two Qi Refinement cultivators launched their own assault,
flanking her from both sides.
One wielded the Art of Lake’s Ripple, manipulating the rain to form massive spheres of water.
The other unleashed Thunderstrike’s Fury, infusing the water spheres with crackling arcs of
lightning.
The combined attack was as awe-inspiring as it was devastating, the massive water spheres
charged with thunderous energy hurtling toward Yun Yanshuang with overwhelming force.
The air roared with power.
Yet Yun Yanshuang made no move to confront their combined onslaught head-on. Instead, she
dodged again with practiced precision.
The lightning-infused water spheres slammed into the ground where she had stood moments
before, exploding with a deafening crash.
Boom!
Countless droplets of water, still infused with residual lightning, sprayed outward in a deadly
cascade, expanding the attack’s range by severalfold.
Caught in the radius of the electrified rain, Yun Yanshuang’s figure faltered momentarily.
Seizing the opportunity, the lightning surged toward her like venomous serpents, invading her
body in an attempt to paralyze her movements.
“Yes! She’s paralyzed! Now’s our chance!”
The cultivator who had unleashed Thunderstrike’s Fury sneered, his lips curling into a
triumphant smile.
Without hesitation, he propelled himself forward, his figure streaking through the air like a bolt of
lightning as he aimed for the kill.
“Don’t be reckless!”
The other cultivator, who wielded Art of Lake’s Ripple, shouted in alarm, his expression twisting
into panic.
But it was too late.
As the overconfident attacker closed in on Yun Yanshuang, her figure remained still—seemingly
paralyzed by the lightning.
Yet in the next instant, a terrifying burst of golden flame erupted from her body, radiating the
scorching energy of the Solar Wheel Essence.
The attacker didn’t even have time to react. The golden fire consumed him in an instant,
reducing his body to nothing but ashes.