Qingyang City, North Gate.
The sun slanted westward, casting the city walls' shadows long. Pedestrians and merchants bustled in and out, the air thick with the mixed scent of dust, sweat, and various goods. The guards at the gate leaned lazily against the archway, indifferent to the crowds passing by.
Chu Yang stood not far outside the city gate, beneath an old locust tree, his figure almost merging with the shadows. He had changed into clean coarse cloth clothes, still possessing the unremarkable appearance of a Qi Refining First Layer cultivator, utterly inconspicuous.
Looking at this familiar city, his heart remained calm. Over ten years, he had entered and exited this gate countless times, each time bearing scars, shallow or deep, and enduring ridicule, open or hidden. Today, he had returned, bringing power sufficient to overturn it all.
He did not fly directly into the city; that would be too shocking. He intended to walk in step by step, announcing his return in the most "appropriate" manner.
As soon as he stepped into the city gate archway, a wave of heat mixed with the smell of cheap liquor and sweat washed over him. Next to the inner side of the gate was a simple tea stall where several burly men, chests bare and faces brutish, were gathered around, loudly shouting bets while playing dice. They were low-ranking thugs from the Black Tiger Gang, the local bullies. Their leader, a stout man with a scar across his face named Wang Biao, possessed a Cultivation Level of Qi Refining Third Layer. In the past, Wang Biao had often bullied the passing Chu Yang, robbing him of his already meager Monthly Stipend.
"Place your bets! Open!"
"Hahaha! I win everything!"
"Damn it, my luck is terrible today!"
Wang Biao beamed with victory, slapping the table so hard that the bowls and dishes jumped. A side glance caught Chu Yang, who was about to walk past with his head down, and Wang Biao's eyes immediately lit up, as if he had found something amusing.
"Oh! Isn't this our great genius Chu?" Wang Biao stood up, leading his followers, swaying as he blocked Chu Yang's path. He deliberately emphasized the word "genius," drawing laughter from his companions.
The surrounding pedestrians saw this and quickly moved aside, their faces showing fear and a hint of pity, yet no one dared to step forward.
Chu Yang stopped, raised his head, and looked calmly at Wang Biao without speaking.
Wang Biao felt uncomfortable under Chu Yang's calm gaze. Usually, this failure would tremble with fear upon seeing them, wishing he could bury his head between his legs. Why today...?
Anger flared from embarrassment. He extended a thick finger, nearly poking Chu Yang's nose, and spat curses: "What are you looking at? Failure! Haven't seen you for a few days, and your guts have gotten bigger? I heard you were kicked out of the Chu Family? And you even went to the Demonic Beast Mountain Range? You have a tough life, didn't even die from that?"
His followers behind him chimed in:
"Brother Biao, why waste time talking to this failure? Search him to see if he has any valuables left!"
"Exactly, look at his shabby appearance, he probably doesn't even have a single copper coin!"
"If we can't find money, beating him up to vent some anger will do! Hahaha!"
Wang Biao sneered, his large hand reaching directly for Chu Yang's collar: "Did you hear that? Failure, be sensible, hand over everything valuable on you! Then kowtow a few times for us, and maybe I'll be in a good mood and let you off this time!"
The dirty, sweat-soaked palm was about to touch Chu Yang.
Chu Yang still did not move; even his expression showed no change whatsoever.
Just as Wang Biao's fingers were about to brush his collar—
An invisible, intangible, yet heavy as a mountain and cold as the Nine Hells, terrifying aura subtly spread out with Chu Yang as the center! This aura was controlled perfectly, enveloping only the small area where Wang Biao and his men stood; the outside world noticed nothing.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
As if struck in the chest by an invisible sledgehammer, the sneers on Wang Biao's and his followers' faces instantly froze, replaced by extreme terror and a sense of suffocation! They felt as if they had suddenly been thrown into the bottom of the ocean, infinite pressure squeezing them from all directions, making it incredibly difficult to breathe, let alone move!
Their knees involuntarily went weak, like noodles, and they all dropped to the ground simultaneously! Their heads were forcefully pressed toward the ground by that invisible power, their foreheads slamming heavily onto the hard Green Stone pavement with dull thuds!
"Uh... Hhng..." Wang Biao tried to struggle, tried to shout, but couldn't utter a sound, only managing to squeeze out desperate gasps from his throat. He felt like his internal organs were about to be crushed, and his Soul was trembling! He looked up in utter horror at the clean cloth shoes inches from his face; that ordinary figure now seemed more terrifying to him than a primordial beast!
What happened?! This failure... what exactly is he?!
Chu Yang looked down at the men kneeling before him, trembling like ants, his gaze indifferent, like a deity overlooking the mortal world.
He did not speak, merely observing them silently for three breaths.
For Wang Biao and the others, these three breaths felt longer than three years; every moment was spent on the edge of life and death!
Then, Chu Yang retracted that barely perceptible oppressive aura.
Like a receding tide, Wang Biao and his men instantly collapsed onto the ground, drenched in cold sweat as if they had just been pulled from water, gasping for air. Their faces were completely drained of color, and the way they looked at Chu Yang was filled with boundless fear, as if they had seen a ghost.
Chu Yang ignored them further, as if merely brushing dust off his sleeve. He stepped forward and calmly walked past them, merging into the flow of people on the street.
It wasn't until Chu Yang's back disappeared around the street corner that Wang Biao and his men dared to move slightly. They helped each other up, scrambling and crawling away from the city gate archway, lacking the courage to even look back once. They knew they had kicked an iron plate today—no, they had kicked divine iron! That Chu Yang was absolutely no longer someone they could afford to provoke!
Chu Yang walked along the familiar street, unconcerned by the minor incident. The aura of a Heavenly Venerable, even a trace of it, was something these Qi Refining ants could never withstand. He didn't kill them, not out of mercy, but simply because he felt... they weren't worthy of dirtying his hands.
His goal was clear—the Market Town in the west of the city. It was a place where information flowed freely amidst a mix of people, and it was where he sensed the strongest pull related to his "Hidden Dragon in the Abyss" destiny.
However, he hadn't gone far when he was stopped at the entrance to a relatively secluded alley.
Three people blocked his path. Leading them was Chu Xiong, whose face was gloomy and filled with venomous resentment! Following him were the two House Servants who had retreated from the perimeter of the Demonic Beast Mountain Range.
Chu Xiong had clearly been watching the direction of the city gate, waiting for Chu Yang to appear.
"Chu! Yang!" Chu Xiong almost spat out the name through gritted teeth, his eyes like a venomous snake, "You really didn't die! And you dare to come back?!"
Chu Yang stopped, looking at the furious Chu Xiong, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Why wouldn't I dare come back? Did you open this Qingyang City, Chu Xiong?"
"Stop playing games with me, bastard!" Chu Xiong was completely enraged by his attitude, "You got away with it at the Deacon Hall, and you escaped in the Demonic Beast Mountain Range! Today, I'd like to see who can protect you!"
He stepped forward, releasing his Qi Refining Fifth Layer aura without reservation, attempting to intimidate Chu Yang with Spiritual Pressure as he had done before. He was convinced that Chu Yang had only survived in the Demonic Beast Mountain Range due to sheer luck or some trick, and that he was still the Qi Refining First Layer failure!
However, his meager Spiritual Pressure fell upon Chu Yang like a gentle breeze sweeping over a hill; it couldn't even stir the hem of his robe.
Chu Yang even felt a bit bored.
"Chu Xiong," he said lightly, "I advise you to move aside. I am in a decent mood today; I don't wish to kill anyone."
"Hahaha!" Chu Xiong acted as if he had heard the greatest joke, laughing wildly along with the House Servants behind him, "Kill someone? Based on you, a failure? Who do you think you are? Today, I will cripple you, and we'll see how tough your mouth can be!"
He stopped wasting words. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and he formed his fingers into a blade, condensing fire-attribute Spiritual Power. It shot toward Chu Yang's Dantian, carrying a scorching heat! If this strike landed, it was enough to completely ruin the foundation of a Qi Refining cultivator—it was utterly malicious!
"Blazing Sun Finger!"
The finger wind whistled, about to strike Chu Yang's abdomen.
Chu Yang shook his head.
He didn't even use Spiritual Power. He casually raised his right hand, striking faster than the incoming attack, swatting it away lightly as if flicking away a fly.
*Slap!*
A crisp, loud slap echoed, exceptionally clear in the quiet alley entrance.
Chu Xiong's charging figure flew backward faster than he had advanced, crashing against the alley wall with a *thud*, shaking down plaster dust. Half his face instantly swelled up, revealing a clear five-fingered mark. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he was completely stunned, his eyes vacant, his mind buzzing.
The laughter of the two House Servants abruptly ceased, like ducks whose necks had been squeezed, as they stared dumbfounded at the scene.
Young Master Chu... Chu Xiong, Qi Refining Fifth Layer, was sent flying by... by a slap from Chu Yang?!
How was this possible?!
Chu Yang slowly withdrew his hand, not even glancing at Chu Xiong, who was embedded in the wall questioning his life. His gaze settled on the two trembling House Servants.
"Go back and tell Chu Yunhai," his voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable majesty, "I, Chu Yang, have returned. Tell him to wash his neck and wait."
Having spoken, he lingered no longer, turning and leaving, leaving behind only the two ashen-faced House Servants and Chu Xiong, who was stuck in the wall like a statue.
First display of strength, achieved effortlessly.
But this was only the beginning.
The winds of Qingyang City were about to change.
（ Chapter Seven End ）