I was just making up techniques... how did all of you become Emperors?

"Am I not standing right before your eyes? Can you not see this venerable one?"

The voice wasn't loud, yet it carried an intimate, whispering quality, as if someone were murmuring directly into one's ear.

Everyone present turned toward the source. There stood a young man of extraordinary grace and striking handsomeness, idly flicking a folding fan in his hand. His playful gaze swept over Jiuyang Half-Saint, his demeanor making it clear he held no regard for the man.

What shocked the onlookers wasn't just the young man's actions—it was the fact that those standing beside him also seemed utterly unimpressed by Jiuyang Half-Saint.

Just who was this person?

Many, including Jiuyang Half-Saint himself, were gripped by a deep sense of bewilderment.

Though the man stood plainly before them, he seemed shrouded in an inexplicable mist. At first glance, he appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary mortal without a trace of cultivation—which only made his presence all the more extraordinary.

When Xiao Chen and his companions saw that the speaker was none other than Chu Feng, their faces lit up with surprise and delight. They immediately bowed in reverence.

"Disciples pay respects to our master!"

Chu Feng waved a hand dismissively. "At ease."

The moment those words left his lips, the crowd froze as if struck by lightning.

The Ye Family Patriarch was the first to recover, clasping his hands in greeting. "This old man was unaware of Chief Chu's arrival and failed to welcome you properly. I beg your forgiveness."

Chu Feng returned the courtesy. "You flatter me, Elder. I merely came to observe the spectacle. I hadn't intended to cause trouble for the Ye Family—I hope you can overlook my intrusion."

Such poise, such courtesy—even as a fellow Half-Saint, the contrast was stark.

The crowd's gazes toward Chu Feng now held nothing but respect. As for Jiuyang Half-Saint? Only scorn remained. Look at Chu Feng—that's what a true Half-Saint should be like. Your blustering makes you seem like some country bumpkin who's never seen the world. You're an embarrassment to the Blazing Sun Sect!

Jiuyang Half-Saint's expression darkened the moment he recognized Chu Feng. The reputation of "Half-Saint Chu" was well-known—after all, this was the man who had once beheaded a Half-Saint from the Great Yan Sacred Land with a single sword stroke. Even seasoned Half-Saints hesitated to provoke him, for no one knew just how deep his strength ran.

Yang Wei, who had just struggled to his feet, promptly clutched his chest and collapsed again, feigning unconsciousness.

The Ye Family Patriarch noticed Jiuyang's reaction but chose not to fan the flames. Instead, he smiled at Chu Feng. "Half-Saint Chu, we are all figures of standing. Brawling before juniors would be undignified. Might I suggest we resolve this matter peacefully?"

"Elder Ye speaks wisely," Chu Feng replied with a light chuckle. "Besides, killing someone on your territory would only disgrace our own Inquiry Academy. I would never do such a thing."

Both the Ye Family Patriarch and Jiuyang Half-Saint inwardly sighed in relief. It seemed this man wasn't entirely unreasonable.

But then—Chu Feng's tone shifted abruptly as he locked eyes with Jiuyang.

"Old bastard, do you dare face me in a duel outside the city?"

Jiuyang's face turned ashen. He had been ready to swallow his pride, offer compensation, and apologize—never expecting this upstart to push things so far. If he refused now, he'd become a laughingstock among Half-Saints.

"Young man, if you seek a fight, then a fight you shall have! Do you think this old man fears you?"

"After you." Chu Feng gestured politely.

"Hmph!"

Jiuyang snorted coldly and soared toward the skies beyond White Cloud City.

Chu Feng took a single step forward and followed. Not to be outdone, the Ye Family Patriarch hurried after them.

A few breaths later, the remaining cultivators snapped out of their daze and rushed toward the city outskirts.

"Nine Suns Illuminate the Heavens!"

"Ten Thousand Swords Return to Origin!"

Before they even reached the battlefield, the crowd saw tens of thousands of sword beams merge into a single strike—piercing through nine blazing suns in the sky before running straight through Jiuyang Half-Saint's body.

By the time they arrived, a battered and disheveled Jiuyang sat slumped on the ground, his expression hollow.

Chief Chu stood calmly nearby, holding a severed arm. He tossed it carelessly before Jiuyang and said, "I always keep my word. I said I wouldn't kill you, and I won't. This arm is your punishment. Do you accept it?"

Jiuyang stared at his severed limb and muttered, "Chief Chu's swordsmanship is peerless. This old man concedes defeat."

"Be more careful next time."

With those final words, Chu Feng turned and left, leaving behind a broken and ashen-faced Jiuyang.

The crowd watched as Chu Feng effortlessly defeated Jiuyang Half-Saint, their gazes now tinged with even deeper fear. They had come expecting an exciting battle, but never imagined it would end so swiftly.

"Disciple thanks Master for intervening."

Xiao Chen bowed deeply toward Chu Feng.

Chu Feng helped him up. "No need for thanks. As long as I'm here, no one can harm you."

Xiao Chen looked at his master with gratitude, thinking to himself: Master's bearing is truly peerless—I'm not even worth a fraction of his brilliance.

As they spoke, the group returned to the Ye Family to continue the exchange gathering.

The Ye Family Patriarch, however, did not follow them back. Instead, he landed beside Jiuyang Half-Saint.

"Fellow Daoist Jiuyang, come to my residence to recuperate first. Our transaction can be postponed for a few days."

Jiuyang Half-Saint, moved by these words, said with a bitter expression, "I've embarrassed myself in front of Brother Ye. This disaster is entirely due to my own arrogance. Let's conclude our transaction as soon as possible so I can return and heal."

He didn't want to stay in White Cloud City a moment longer—not just because of the humiliation, but because he feared Chu Feng might change his mind. That single sword strike hadn't just severed his arm—it had shattered his Dao heart. He would never dare face Chu Feng again in this lifetime.

"Very well, let's go."

The Ye Family Patriarch stood up as he spoke.

Jiuyang Half-Saint picked up his severed left hand, intending to retrieve the storage rings from his fingers—only to freeze in shock the next moment.

The two storage rings on his left hand were gone. Among them was the very item he had brought to trade with the Ye Family Patriarch.

Staring at his bare fingers, realizing two-thirds of his wealth had vanished, Jiuyang Half-Saint felt a surge of rage and despair. A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips.

Pfft—

The Ye Family Patriarch's expression changed. He quickly supported Jiuyang and asked, "Fellow Daoist Jiuyang, are you alright?"

Jiuyang Half-Saint's voice trembled with fury. "Chu... Chu Feng! I swear I'll never coexist with you under the same sky!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, darkness overtook his vision, and he collapsed unconscious.

The Ye Family Patriarch could only sigh inwardly, muttering, "Fellow Daoist Jiuyang, you couldn't win against him, yet still had to make empty threats. Your temperament is truly lacking..."

Achoo!

In the front courtyard of the Ye residence, Chu Feng sneezed the moment he landed. Rubbing his nose, he murmured to himself:

"That old fool Jiuyang is so petty. All I took were two storage rings, and he's already cursing me behind my back."

Beside him, Elder Bing's face filled with confusion. "Master, what are you talking about?"

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