Qin Chao, a man of extraordinary talent, stood out among the younger generation. Had he not been so indulgent in pleasures of the flesh and neglected his cultivation, his strength would have far surpassed what it was now. In truth, none of the descendants of Mount Buxiu were ordinary, let alone him—born into an illustrious lineage as the great-great-grandson of a formidable figure, his bloodline was revered, his potential boundless.
To broaden his horizons and pursue the affections of Princess Qianqian, he journeyed across domains, arriving in what he deemed a savage, desolate land devoid of spiritual essence and prodigies. He looked down upon this realm with disdain. Never did he imagine that berating a local and commanding him to leave Princess Qianqian’s side would earn him a brutal slap—an unprecedented humiliation.
Hailing from Mount Buxiu, Qin Chao was accustomed to deference and admiration wherever he went. Even the most talented disciples of major sects sought his friendship, never daring to offend. Yet in this “wasteland” he despised, someone had the audacity to strike him—an insult even his own elders had never inflicted. For days, his fury festered, his thoughts consumed by vengeance.
When he last sought retribution, the boy had already vanished, leaving Qin Chao seething with unspent rage. Now, face-to-face with Shi Hao once more, his eyes turned glacial. “Run away again, will you?” he sneered, emboldened by the presence of his clan’s elite. With Mount Buxiu’s backing, who would dare defy him? Even the Heaven Mending Sect and Western Sect tread carefully, unwilling to provoke conflict.
Silence gripped the crowd. Observers—both local and foreign—watched uneasily. None dared cross Mount Buxiu, a clan small in number yet mighty enough to rival the Sky-Severing Sect and Western Sect, notorious for their ruthless protection of kin. Many pitied Shi Hao, a prodigy with limitless potential, now facing ruin at the hands of Mount Buxiu.
Shi Hao’s gaze swept past Qin Chao with undisguised contempt, dismissing him without a word. The silent slight sent shockwaves through the onlookers—this was open defiance, a challenge to the clan’s prestige. Mount Buxiu, in some ways, was even more fearsome than the Heaven Mending Sect. While the latter had disciples scattered across realms, the former, dwelling in their sacred mountains, prized each member. Any insult would be met with overwhelming retaliation.
Qin Chao’s face darkened. To be ignored before so many was akin to another slap. Yet before he could react, the crimson bird perched on Shi Hao’s shoulder cackled, “Who was it that scurried away last time after getting his face beaten in? And now you’re back for more? Shameless!”
The crowd stifled laughter. Few dared oppose Qin Chao openly, and the bird’s taunts were cathartic. “You’ll regret this!” Qin Chao spat, his cheeks burning.
“Oh, we’re doing just fine,” the bird retorted. “Especially seeing you come crawling back for another thrashing. Delightful!”
Tensions escalated. A battle seemed inevitable. Even Princess Qianqian, one of the ten great beauties of the Profound Domain, watched in astonishment. The boy she’d met before was indeed Shi Hao—and now he clashed with Qin Chao again.
“Elder Shoucheng, crush them!” Qin Chao barked, livid at the admiration in Princess Qianqian’s eyes—directed at Shi Hao, not him.
“Young man, your arrogance knows no bounds,” Elder Qin Shoucheng intoned.
Shi Hao sensed murderous intent. He suspected a blood tie to Mount Buxiu, yet the elder’s hostility puzzled him. “Arrogance? Your junior provoked me. I ignored him. How is that arrogance?” he countered coldly.
“The bird’s insolence must be at your command,” the elder pressed.
“Prove it,” Shi Hao challenged, his aura sharp as a blade. The crowd gasped—this was a direct threat to Mount Buxiu.
“Old fool, spare us your hypocrisy!” the bird squawked.
“Boy, do you seek war with our clan?” Elder Shoucheng glowered.
“Test my patience at your peril,” Shi Hao warned.
The onlookers marveled at his audacity. Was he truly fearless?
“Has he… reached the Formation Arrangement realm?” murmurs spread. A fifteen-year-old king? Unthinkable!
“Enough talk! Kill him!” Qin Chao demanded, confident in the elder’s lethal artifacts.
“You’re tiresome,” Shi Hao said. In a blur of golden light—swift as the Kun Peng’s flight—he struck.
*Crack!* Qin Chao’s face shattered as he hurtled backward, blood arcing through the air. Before he hit the ground, Shi Hao stepped onto his chest, crushing his meridians. “Your cruelty ends today. I spare your life only for the uncertain ties between us.”
The crowd reeled. To maim a core disciple of Mount Buxiu was an unforgivable offense.
“You dare?!” the elder roared.
Shi Hao smirked. “I’ve slain Heaven Mending Sect elders. What’s one more fool?”
His defiance electrified the young spectators. Even Princess Qianqian, relieved yet fearful, knew the repercussions would be dire.
Elder Shoucheng’s voice dripped venom. “Surrender now, and your punishment may be lenient.”
Shi Hao laughed. “Delusional. Threaten me again, and you won’t leave alive.”
From the mischievous “Little Rascal” to the indomitable youth before them, he had never bowed—not to the Heaven Mending Sect, nor now to Mount Buxiu. If blood bound him to this clan, he would see how they treated their own.
The stage was set for a storm.
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