I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 22

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To Li Xinglun’s surprise, Sage Yipin didn’t immediately summon the Thorn Cutting sword to slay demons and eradicate evil. Instead, he showed a rather… subtle expression. After scrutinizing Changkong Zhuoyu from head to toe, he slowly said, “Although my own life span was insufficient to witness Xue Qianjie with my own eyes, he once visited Mount Shu. The Sword Tomb of Mount Shu still retains his image. When I first entered the path and went to the Sword Tomb to choose my own sword, I was fortunate enough to see it once. Whether in appearance or demeanor, you are completely different from him. Why do you believe yourself to be Xue Qianjie? Do you have any reason or evidence?”

Li Xinglun finally breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, Sage Yipin was rational and shrewd; he didn’t immediately believe Changkong Zhuoyu’s words. That made sense — Sage Yipin, as the head of Mount Shu, was certainly not as impulsive as that master-disciple pair from the Hundred Flowers sect. Changkong Zhuoyu just changed his hairstyle and clothing color, smiled at them, and they immediately decided he was Xue Qianjie.

Changkong Zhuoyu still used his usual excuse: “To tell the truth, I once forgot my past.”

Then he recounted his entire journey since climbing out of the gorge. This time, however, he didn’t tell Sage Yipin that they’d come up from the bottom of the Soul-Breaking Gorge, mindful of Li Xinglun’s presence.

“So you have no evidence to prove you’re Xue Qianjie — everything is simply because your swordsmanship is excellent?” Sage Yipin asked.

“Well…” Changkong Zhuoyu looked a bit embarrassed. “There’s also my cultivation mental method, which seems to be the path of a demonic cultivator, and… my intuition.”

When he spoke of his intuition, his voice was very faint — completely different from his usual confident tone of ‘I’m definitely someone important.’ Listening to it, Li Xinglun inexplicably felt a pang of heartache. Changkong Zhuoyu was supposed to be the type who, even without any evidence, was inexplicably full of confidence. This self-doubt just wasn’t his style.

“We sword cultivators judge a man by his sword,” Sage Yipin said. “The reason I dared to let you stay in the Mount Shu sword formation and even invited you to the righteous sect gathering is because, during our previous sparring, I could see you were an upright man. There was no confusion or malice in your sword — though it carried a trace of murderous energy, that was from your techniques and momentum, not from your heart. Someone who wields such a sword could never be a demonic cultivator.”

Changkong Zhuoyu wore a helpless expression. He had dominated the cultivation world under the name of Xue Qianjie for so long, yet this was the first time someone had so plainly pointed out the flaws in that identity — not like Li Xinglun, who just disbelieved him without reason, nor like the Hundred Flowers sect, who were angry and dutiful, but with clear logic and evidence, leaving him no room to retort.

Of course, Changkong Zhuoyu had countless stories in his mind at any moment and could always invent another tale to argue with Sage Yipin. But again, these stories had no evidence — they couldn’t stand up to scrutiny.

“But I truly feel… I am Xue Qianjie.” Changkong Zhuoyu stretched out his hand, staring at his clean palm lines. He felt as though he had defeated countless experts before, as if no one could best him. And in the cultivation world, only Xue Qianjie had ever reached such heights. If he wasn’t Xue Qianjie — then who was he?

Sage Yipin was at a loss for words before this man who insisted on claiming a demonic cultivator’s identity. He sighed deeply and said, “Please come with me, my friend.”

Li Xinglun and Changkong Zhuoyu followed Sage Yipin out of the great hall. Meanwhile, after waiting a while in her room, Rang Cencen couldn’t help but think of Sect Master Xue. After a month without seeing him, she couldn’t resist and secretly ran out to look. She saw him about to go somewhere with Sage Yipin and quietly followed.

With their level of cultivation, both Sage Yipin and Changkong Zhuoyu immediately noticed her. But since she harbored no ill intent, her eyes full of girlish admiration, Sage Yipin glanced at Changkong Zhuoyu’s stunning looks and sighed, choosing not to stop her.

It wasn’t a forbidden place anyway — if she followed, so be it. Sage Yipin, having already transcended worldly attachments, didn’t let such trivialities weigh on his heart.

As for Changkong Zhuoyu, he already felt guilty toward Rang Cencen. Now, after hearing Sage Yipin say he wasn’t Xue Qianjie, he felt even more uneasy and let her tag along.

The only one who sensed something amiss was Li Xinglun — but because his cultivation wasn’t strong enough, he didn’t even notice Nascent Soul–stage Rang Cencen’s presence.

The four of them walked slowly, one after another. Since flying was forbidden in the Mount Shu main hall, they walked all the way to the back mountain before Sage Yipin flicked his whisk and took to the air, bringing even Rang Cencen with them.

After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, they arrived at a towering peak, its surface studded with countless swords.

“This is our sect’s Sword Tomb. Every Mount Shu disciple, after reaching the Foundation Building stage, must come here and take a sword from the tomb. That sword becomes his life-bound treasure and follows him always. Unless the disciple perishes utterly, even upon ascension the sword stays with him.” Sage Yipin spoke with nostalgia. “My Thorn Cutting sword was taken from this tomb. Even our sect’s two divine swords — the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure — are here.”

Changkong Zhuoyu looked up at the swords. “From what I see, they all look rather ordinary.”

“A sword is no different from an ordinary blade until it meets its destined master,” Sage Yipin replied. He summoned Thorn Cutting, which glowed crimson and hummed lightly before the Sword Tomb, as though excited and reminiscing.

“Before I drew Thorn Cutting from the tomb, it was just an ordinary rusty sword.”

“Where did the swords in the tomb come from?” Changkong Zhuoyu asked.

“All left by our predecessors,” Sage Yipin said. “Few cultivators manage to ascend — especially us sword cultivators, who often die at others’ hands before comprehending the Dao. Some, unable to ascend in the end, choose to shatter their bodies and reincarnate. After their deaths, their swords return to the tomb, turning once more into rusty blades, waiting either for their master’s rebirth or a new owner.”

“Why has Sage Yipin brought us here?” Changkong Zhuoyu suddenly recalled that Sage Yipin had said the tomb once held an image of Xue Qianjie, which meant he’d been here before. So why did he come?

“There is a very unusual sword here,” Sage Yipin said, raising his head. “Its master did not belong to Mount Shu, and it is a sword inherently flawed. All immortal swords are at least forged with heavenly materials and treasures, but this sword was made of common iron. Even some divine weapons painstakingly crafted by masters in the martial world are sturdier than it. Yet this ordinary sword once dominated the cultivation world for nearly a thousand years.”

“Xue Qianjie’s sword,” Changkong Zhuoyu murmured. “Why did he bring his sword to the tomb and leave it here?”

“I don’t know,” Sage Yipin sighed. “The jade slips of Mount Shu recorded the events before and after Sect Master Xue’s visit. All of us disciples who read them reached the same conclusion: Sect Master Xue came here to die.”

Rang Cencen, who had been eavesdropping, felt her heart sink.

“A man like him — why would he seek death?” Changkong Zhuoyu looked utterly bewildered.

When he had first awakened to this world, his mind was blank — pure as a baby. To him, the world was full of delights, and life was fascinating. Xue Qianjie, already at the pinnacle of cultivation, why would someone like him choose death?

Sage Yipin shook his head. A thousand years ago was distant even to him; he had only read the records and simply recounted them.

A thousand years ago, Mount Shu had been visited by an uninvited guest. Alone with a sword, clad in red with black hair, he stormed the Mount Shu sword formation and faced the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure. Like Changkong Zhuoyu, he struck them down with a single sword. But unlike Zhuoyu, the Twin Swords didn’t hold back — they drained nearly all of Mount Shu’s spiritual veins to resist him, yet still failed to stop the man who had shattered Kunlun’s divine formation.

Yet Xue Qianjie didn’t harm a single soul. He went straight to the Sword Tomb, raised his head, and asked: “Why does Mount Shu have a Sword Tomb?”

No one answered — this was Mount Shu’s secret, told to no one.

But Xue Qianjie pierced that secret with a single sentence: “Beneath this Sword Tomb lies the entrance to the demon realm.”

Indeed, as legend had it, the three great sects each possessed an artifact left by ancient deities, sealing the demon realm. Mount Shu relied on the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure and the Sword Tomb, using powerful sword aura to keep the demon realm sealed for millennia.

Even so, some demonic energy still leaked out, clinging to swords and corrupting disciples with weak minds, leading them to the demonic path and eventual destruction by Mount Shu. Their swords, cleansed of demonic energy, would then return to the tomb.

At that time, the Mount Shu sect master, Master Lin, asked: “Revered one, you’ve already broken through the final barrier. Why come here?”

By then, Xue Qianjie had reached the tribulation stage. If he wished, he could ascend at any time.

“I’ve suppressed my cultivation for centuries. Lately, I feel it slipping beyond my control,” Xue Qianjie sighed. “But I don’t want to go to the immortal realm. There’s nothing I seek there.”

“Is there something you seek at Mount Shu?”

“Perhaps.” Under watchful eyes, Xue Qianjie drew his sword. “This Sword Tomb can barely hold back the demonic energy. Otherwise, the Twin Swords wouldn’t have fallen so quickly — they’re diverting most of their strength here and dare not use their full power against me.”

The Mount Shu disciples had no idea how he saw through this, as even among them only the elders and sect master knew.

Then Xue Qianjie leapt up and thrust his sword into the tomb.

When he let go, the iron sword hummed unwillingly, stirring all the other swords in the tomb to sing — even the Twin Swords joined in.

According to Mount Shu legend, when all the swords sang together, it meant a calamity was coming. Seeing this, everyone’s faces changed.

But Xue Qianjie patted his sword atop the peak and said, “Look at the mortal world — war rages, smoke and blood engulf the land, demonic energy shrouds heaven and earth. A blood calamity approaches.”

{Blood Calamity — a worldwide disaster, often involving mass killing, war, bloody sacrifice.}

He struck at the heart of Mount Shu’s fears. The three great sects had already calculated as much and were preparing countermeasures — yet here was a demonic cultivator who also knew.

“I call myself Xue Qianjie, destined to suppress the human world’s blood calamity for a thousand years, awaiting the true opportunity. But now, I can barely hold on, and I am about to ascend — I cannot remain here. Yet… I can’t allow it. The human world still lacks the strength to withstand the catastrophe.”

“Sect Master Xue,” Master Lin cupped his hands, “only today do we realize how you’ve labored all this time. We truly misjudged you.”

“No need,” Xue Qianjie replied lightly. “I didn’t do it for you.”

He stood on the peak, looking down at them as if they were ants.

“Guard this human realm for me,” he told his sword.

With that, he leapt from the peak, opened a hole at the mountain’s base, and plunged into the demon realm.

After he entered the demonic realm, the hole closed, the demonic energy in the world gradually quieted, and the Sword Tomb felt far less invaded. Even the Twin Swords grew stronger.

“The mortal calamity should have come a thousand years ago. It was Sect Master Xue who, by himself, suppressed the demonic energy for a thousand years.” Sage Yipin sighed. “I’m not stubborn. For someone like Sect Master Xue, who cares if he was righteous or evil?”

Changkong Zhuoyu was dumbfounded. Seeing he was at a loss, Li Xinglun asked, “Since this is a Mount Shu secret, why tell us?”

“There’s no hiding it now,” Sage Yipin shook his head. “Calamity is coming. Kunlun, Emei, and Mount Shu will all be battlefields. What’s the point of keeping it secret? I was going to announce it at the righteous sect gathering anyway — saying it now makes no difference.”

He gently tapped a nearby sword with Thorn Cutting. The blade chimed softly, and several others joined in. “Even now, if a few swords sing together, one can see Sect Master Xue’s figure.”

Sure enough, after several swords chimed, a blood-red figure appeared atop the peak, pressing down on a plain iron sword and gazing at the earth. His eyes seemed to look at everyone, yet no one at all.

“Guard this human realm… guard this human realm…”

His voice echoed from sword to sword, growing fainter and finally fading away.

This was the memory of that iron sword, never forgotten through the centuries.

Xue Qianjie, who could have ascended to the immortal realm and abandoned the human world, instead sacrificed himself, plunging into the demon realm to buy humanity another thousand years.

And his sword remained in the tomb all that time, eternally longing for its unparalleled master.

“I also hope Sect Master Xue can escape the demon realm and be reborn. Since you insist you’re Xue Qianjie, go ahead — draw the sword. For centuries, this sword has waited for its master. If you truly are Sect Master Xue, you will be able to draw it.” Sage Yipin waved a hand, pointing directly at the sword beneath the phantom figure.

Sever the past; in the death tribulation discover life. Was he truly Xue Qianjie? Could he lift that sword?

Step by step, Changkong Zhuoyu climbed the peak. Until now, he had firmly believed he was Xue Qianjie — after all, he was so formidable; how could he not be? But when he saw the phantom at the summit, both he and Li Xinglun shook their heads.

No, he was not Xue Qianjie.

To face the real one, no matter how close their power was, no matter how much Changkong Zhuoyu had imitated the legends, the moment they stood face to face, one could instantly see the difference in their souls.

Changkong Zhuoyu placed his hand on the sword and gave it a hard pull — but sure enough, the sword didn’t budge an inch and even retaliated.

The backlash forced Changkong Zhuoyu to withdraw his hand. For the first time ever, this peerless cultivator was injured. The web of his hand split open, blood dripping onto the Sword Tomb.

Seeing Changkong Zhuoyu’s completely bewildered expression, Li Xinglun rushed up the peak, grabbed Changkong Zhuoyu’s waist, and held him tight as he carried him back down.

“Please, both of you, go rest,” Sage Yipin sighed. “Three days from now, I hope you’ll attend the righteous sect gathering.”

Li Xinglun carried Changkong Zhuoyu back to their guest room, while Rang Cencen stayed at the foot of the mountain, staring at the place where Sect Master Xue’s figure had appeared.

At last, she had seen Sect Master Xue — but he had already fallen into the demon realm, his fate unknown.

Mesmerized by his unmatched presence atop the peak, Rang Cencen wandered back to her room, hugging her knees in a daze, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Li Xinglun was anxious. His usually lively, confident, and clever master was now lying lifeless in bed after being carried back without complaint, eyes empty, looking as though he’d lost all will to live.

Li Xinglun’s heart ached terribly. Who cared who Xue Qianjie was or about some mortal calamity? He just wanted his master to be happy again, to return to the carefree, confident self he’d always been.

So he sat at the bedside, held Changkong Zhuoyu’s hand, and said, “Master, even if you’re not Sect Master Xue, you can still be someone else. Didn’t you suspect you might be Yin Changkong before? I think that makes sense. First, the name; second, his disappearance and your appearance happened at the same time. So you might be the righteous sect’s leader. Next, how about we go check Kunlun?”

Changkong Zhuoyu didn’t react.

Knowing his words hadn’t struck the right chord, Li Xinglun thought a moment and continued, “Actually, I think Master’s power might even surpass Xue Qianjie’s. He may have reached the peak of the cultivation world, but he still needed to transcend the tribulation. Yet your strength seems to exceed even the tribulation stage.”

Hearing this, a faint light returned to Changkong Zhuoyu’s eyes. He turned over, ready to listen.

Li Xinglun: “…”

What else could he do but keep spinning tales?

Recalling all the guesses Changkong Zhuoyu had once shared, Li Xinglun continued, “Xue Qianjie started as a wandering cultivator, and before becoming sect master of the demonic sect, he had no backing. No matter how strong he was, he couldn’t compare to the great sects. Kunlun has long known about the mortal calamity — perhaps they’ve prepared ways to suppress cultivation, allowing someone beyond the tribulation stage to resist the tribulation and stay in the human world.”

Mmm! Changkong Zhuoyu nodded approvingly, waiting for him to go on.

“Think about it — Master broke the formation in the Soul-Breaking Gorge, so you must’ve encountered divine formations before. You also have a fondness for the name ‘Changkong.’ And those words you carved on the cliff — ‘Sever the past; in the death tribulation discover life’ — likely served as a reminder to yourself. The peril might refer to you, or to the mortal calamity. So this reasoning makes it even more probable you’re Yin Changkong.”

Running out of steam, Li Xinglun feigned thirst, poured two cups of tea, warmed them in his palms, and handed one to his master.

Before he could think of more, Changkong Zhuoyu drained his tea in one gulp, revived, and said, “In other words, Yin Changkong’s disappearance and Kunlun’s divine formation breaking must have been my preparations to resolve the calamity — not because Yin Changkong was defeated. I knew it! With Yin Changkong’s record, how could he be defeated so easily?”

At last, he’d recovered enough to even add to the story himself. Li Xinglun’s tense heart relaxed — his nonsense had finally paid off.

“That’s right, so Master’s memory loss might even hold some deeper meaning. Maybe you deliberately hid your identity, taking on the name Changkong Zhuoyu to accomplish something. Otherwise, why would you change your appearance?” Li Xinglun continued soothingly.

First, he got Changkong Zhuoyu to move past the shadow of not being Xue Qianjie. Then he gave him an even grander idea. And finally, he suggested he couldn’t reveal his identity — so even if it turned out he wasn’t Yin Changkong (and Li Xinglun was sure he wasn’t), at least he wouldn’t lose face like earlier when Sage Yipin exposed him.

Sure enough, Changkong Zhuoyu fell for it, nodding. “That’s right. I must investigate secretly and not expose myself, so I can’t go to Kunlun just yet. Though I don’t know why I made myself forget, I’ll find the answer. But in the meantime… I’m sorry, disciple.”

He looked at Li Xinglun guiltily, leaving him baffled.

“Why would I feel wronged?” Li Xinglun asked.

“Ah… I thought I was Xue Qianjie and even planned to go to Heaven-Shaking Peak to claim his treasure. But now that it’s clear I’m not, and Xue Qianjie was such a righteous man, we can’t take what was his. If I truly am the righteous sect’s leader and you are Kunlun’s heir, you should’ve been enjoying endless glory and resources. But because I have to hide my identity, you too can’t openly join Kunlun or enjoy your due.” Changkong Zhuoyu gazed at him with heartache.

Thank goodness they didn’t have to — otherwise it’d just be robbing Kunlun… Li Xinglun secretly wiped cold sweat but still reassured him, “Don’t worry, Master. With your teaching, my cultivation advances by leaps and bounds. I’m already the fastest cultivator in the realm.”

Indeed — reaching the Golden Core at twenty was unheard of. Even Yin Changkong had only achieved it at fifty. Li Xinglun had gone from Foundation Building to Golden Core in just over a year — faster even than reincarnated demonic cultivators. At such speed, he didn’t really need much else. Better to stabilize his cultivation stage now than force it with pills and spirit stones.

“But… as your master now…” Changkong Zhuoyu admitted painfully, “I’m broke.”

Truly broke.

In the mundane world, one needed silver. In the cultivation world, one needed spirit stones to buy treasures at auctions. Li Xinglun, now at Golden Core, could send puppets to earn silver in the mundane world but couldn’t get spirit stones. If he were Kunlun’s heir, he’d have nothing to worry about.

Hearing this, even Li Xinglun fell silent.

As the most outstanding member of the Li family, he’d never known want before. Since falling into the Soul-Breaking Gorge, he’d been living in poverty — it was hard.

They used to have Rang Cencen as their wallet… wait, Rang Cencen?

Speak of the devil — just as Li Xinglun thought of her, the door to their room was kicked open. There stood Sect Master Rang, wielding her twin snake whips, shouting furiously, “Changkong Zhuoyu, how dare you deceive me!”

Li Xinglun: “…”

Changkong Zhuoyu: “…”

The room was soon in chaos, with Rang Cencen slashing everything to pieces. Changkong Zhuoyu dodged while protecting Li Xinglun, struggling to maneuver in the small space.

With his skill he could easily counter her — but he felt guilty. He’d pretended to be Sect Master Xue, tricked his loyal subordinates into giving him a face-changing Gu (the child Gu was on Li Xinglun, the mother Gu on himself), and even learned how to cultivate them from Rang Cencen — plus borrowed quite a bit of money.

He never meant to deceive anyone — he genuinely believed he was Xue Qianjie. Since the Hundred Flowers sect was his loyal follower, it seemed fine to take their things. But now… it felt like outright fraud.

Li Xinglun, however, had already prepared for this fallout and felt no guilt. Seeing Changkong Zhuoyu just dodging, he suggested, “Master, this room’s too small. If we break Mount Shu’s property, we can’t pay. Why not go outside?”

Seeing the wrecked room, Changkong Zhuoyu agreed, scooped up Li Xinglun by the waist, and fled.

Rang Cencen chased after them with her whips, soon attracting the attention of Mount Shu’s disciples.

Seeing her, Rong Jian quickly intervened, blocking her twin whips with the Thunder Lord’s Hammers and asking, “Why are you all fighting? Weren’t you close friends before? What happened?”

Rang Cencen didn’t want to say Xue Qianjie’s name. As a straightforward Miao girl, she just growled, “They deceived me!”

Li Xinglun seized the moment to smile bitterly at Rong Jian and said, “Senior, please don’t interfere. We… never intended to deceive Miss Rang. She just followed my master on her own… ah, love is so complicated…”

In a few words, he twisted their freeloading into unrequited love turned to hatred.

Hearing this, Rong Jian was even more unwilling to let her harm them. He twirled his hammers, tangled her whips, and said, “Miss Rang, love is hard to grasp. From what I saw, you pursued Changkong, but he never showed you affection, right? Then it’s not really deception… try to let it go.”

Rang Cencen’s chest heaved with rage — these cunning Central Plains men!

Furious, her whips began turning into venomous snakes. Neither Changkong Zhuoyu nor Li Xinglun wanted her using poison here, lest she be branded a demonic woman.

They exchanged a glance before Changkong Zhuoyu grabbed the whips, suppressed them with true essence so they stayed as whips.

The crowd around the main hall grew larger. Changkong Zhuoyu said at once, “Cencen, we can’t fight here at Mount Shu.”

With that, he dragged her down the mountain, Li Xinglun close behind, all three vanishing into the sword formation.

Inside, no one else was around. Changkong Zhuoyu let her vent, dodging with Li Xinglun as she attacked.

“Cencen, I didn’t mean to trick you. I truly believed I was Xue Qianjie. And you confirmed it yourselves, didn’t you?” he coaxed.

“Don’t you ‘Cencen’ me, liar!” Her whips lashed like silver dragons, her fury peaking.

“Then… what would it take for Sect Master Rang to forgive me?” Changkong Zhuoyu asked sincerely. “I don’t have spirit stones now, but with my skill, I’ll repay everything from the Hundred Flowers sect and what you spent on me.”

Who wanted his money! What she cared about was her lost heart. She cried, “I don’t want repayment — just take a few lashes from me now!”

She slit her wrists, letting dark blood seep into her whips, their aura growing ominous. As the Hundred Flowers sect’s sacred animals and her Miao saintess blood infused the whips, even Changkong Zhuoyu would suffer if struck.

Li Xinglun, instead of calming her, provoked her further: “I hear the Hundred Flowers sect’s techniques are deadly — ordinary people die on contact, even cultivators are poisoned. Is Sect Master Rang really going to use such methods on us?”

That snapped her restraint. Her true essence surged, black winds swirled, her silver ornaments darkened.

But Mount Shu’s sword formation didn’t tolerate poison within it. Countless sword shadows struck her, and Changkong Zhuoyu had to shield her, suppressing the swords as he said, “Sect Master Rang, don’t use your true essence.”

“Afraid?” she snarled, unleashing a storm of black wind and whip shadows.

The more she pushed her true essence, the angrier the sword formation became. Even the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure began to stir.

This couldn’t continue. Changkong Zhuoyu apologized, then whisked her away before the swords fully awoke.

One moment she was inside; the next, she stood outside the maze formation. Furious, she tried to reenter but couldn’t.

For three days and nights she circled outside, then finally roared, “Changkong Zhuoyu, the Hundred Flowers sect and you are mortal enemies!”

She wiped her tears, raised her twin snake whips, and flew back to Miaojiang.

As the righteous sect gathering began, Changkong Zhuoyu sneezed, then smiled at the people around him.

He had given up revealing his identity, quietly seated in a middling position arranged by Sage Yipin — behind the great sects but ahead of the minor ones. Though arguably the strongest individual present, the representatives of the great sects carried the weight of their sects, which he couldn’t match.

Yet he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he smiled modestly at the Kunlun elder sitting at the head, as if that seat belonged to him.

Li Xinglun was sweating. He’d barely managed to move Rang Cencen out of Mount Shu with the divine formation and resolve the crisis — but clearly the Hundred Flowers sect wouldn’t let them go.

Fortunately, since the Hundred Flowers sect was far away in Miaojiang, they were unlikely to pursue them here. But Kunlun was another story — if they offended Kunlun, they’d have no choice but to retreat to Heaven-Shaking Peak.

Li Xinglun kept staring at Zhuoyu, thinking: Master, this time, you must hold it in!

~ Chapter End ~

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