The moonlight was hazy, the sky strewn with sparse, glittering stars, their silver light spilling down to drape the entirety of Yun Jing City in a thin, silvery veil. Aside from the faint shouts emanating from the casinos and pleasure houses, most of the city lay in profound stillness...

Ye Jingyu and his two companions walked down a narrow alley. After only ten paces, Ye Jingyu, who was leading the way, abruptly stopped.

The reason was simple: blocking their path ahead stood a burly man clad in black close-fitting attire, a massive saber strapped across his back.

Ye Jingyu gazed at the man before him, a faint smile touching his lips. This Jin Xiaolong truly was remarkable to have forged the Golden Dragon Gang into one of Yun Jing's three major factions; he had actually managed to recruit a master of the Xiantian (Innate) Realm. Though only a low-grade Xiantian expert...

For a gang that possessed few martial artists, such a figure was akin to an angel of death. However, Ye Jingyu also sensed another aura, one that had also reached the Xiantian Realm, hidden somewhere within the shadows.

If Ye Jingyu wished it, he could make the hidden Xiantian master vanish immediately. After all, Bing Ming, a Grandmaster of his caliber, was concealed within the surrounding darkness, fully capable of eliminating a less powerful Xiantian martial master without raising suspicion.

Yet, he chose not to. He merely watched the saber-wielding man with an air of amusement, waiting for something to unfold...

"Hand over the box, or die..." The man was silent for a moment before finally speaking.

He could already feel the Xiantian True Qi radiating from Ye Jingyu, recognizing him as an expert of the same realm. His brow furrowed slightly, but he remained unconcerned. He had an accomplice lurking in the shadows; pitting two Xiantian experts against one meant the victory was obvious.

As for Lin Xiaoyi and Xue Hengzhi accompanying Ye Jingyu, he simply ignored them. He couldn't sense the Grandmaster's aura, mistaking the disabled man for an ordinary person, and Lin Xiaoyi was merely at the level of a Martial Warrior, hardly worth a second glance.

"Heh, kindly depart before this young master loses his temper. Throwing away your life for a petty sum of money is hardly worth it," Ye Jingyu replied with a slight, somewhat arrogant smile.

The man said nothing more. He merely shook his head gently, drew the long saber from his back, and began walking toward Ye Jingyu step by measured step. A palpable, intense killing intent radiated from his body.

"Old Xue, this one is for you..." Ye Jingyu watched the approaching swordsman and spoke to Xue Hengzhi behind him.

Xue Hengzhi felt an overwhelming urge to curse. He, a dignified Grandmaster, was being tasked with dealing with such minor foes?

But knowing his current vulnerability lay entirely in Ye Jingyu’s hands, and aware that Bing Ming, whose strength far surpassed his own, was lurking nearby, he could only sigh inwardly and take a single, light step forward.

The moment this step was taken, the advancing man immediately halted. His coarse brow furrowed slightly; he sensed something distinctly different about Xue Hengzhi, though he couldn't articulate what it was.

What was wrong with him? Had he grown timid from a long absence from bloodshed?

Composing himself, he gripped the great saber tightly, surging his Xiantian True Qi. He instantly lunged toward the three figures, and while still airborne, he brought the saber down in a fierce arc, unleashing a razor-sharp blade energy that tore through the air toward Ye Jingyu and his companions.

Facing the blade energy capable of splitting rock, Xue Hengzhi took another step forward. His remaining left hand casually reached out into the empty space, grasping. A surging tide of True Essence erupted, effortlessly tearing the sharp blade energy into shreds.

The big man’s heart lurched violently. He finally understood why he had felt something amiss—this was no ordinary disabled person, but a supreme master whose strength reached at least the level of a Grandmaster.

He wanted to retreat, but being mid-air, turning back was impossible. All he could do was desperately channel his Xiantian True Qi, hoping to force Xue Hengzhi back one step and buy himself a chance to escape.

But Xue Hengzhi offered no such opportunity. His left hand seized the sharp saber. With a slight twist, the blade was instantly warped into a pretzel shape before exploding apart into fragments of iron dust.

Under the man's horrified gaze, Xue Hengzhi struck out with his other hand, aiming directly for the man’s chest.

The attacker’s mind reeled. He instinctively brought his hands up to guard his chest, his Xiantian True Qi cycling wildly. But Xue Hengzhi paid no heed, bringing his palm down squarely upon the man's forearms.

A sharp crack echoed. The man's arms shattered instantly, and the immense True Essence surged into his body like a mad torrent, slamming directly into his sternum.

Pfft. A mouthful of blood sprayed out. The man’s body was flung straight backward. His arms, previously guarding his chest, were unrecognizable pulp, and his sternum was completely caved in. When he hit the ground, his body convulsed once, and then all movement ceased.

Until the moment of his death, he never understood the realm Xue Hengzhi had attained.

Having killed the man with a single palm strike, Xue Hengzhi did not pause. With a light leap, he was already several dozen yards away, standing before the second Xiantian Martial Master. Ignoring the expert's startled gaze, he brought his palm down mercilessly once more.

The Xiantian Martial Master, recognizing the terror emanating from Xue Hengzhi the moment he moved, abandoned any thought of counterattack and spun around, attempting to flee. He never realized he was already locked down by Xue Hengzhi's killing intent.

Smack. Xue Hengzhi's palm, imbued with True Essence, slammed down onto the crown of the master's head. His skull exploded entirely, splattering white brain matter and shredded flesh. In his eyes lingered an expression of despair and disbelief. His lips moved one last time, faintly shaping three words: "Grandmaster..."

Even in death, he could not fathom why a Grandmaster would appear here. This was supposed to be a petty gang dispute. Even Xiantian Martial Masters were rare here; how could there be a Grandmaster?

With his final vestiges of resentment, his corpse crashed heavily to the ground, devoid of any remaining breath.

Just then, urgent footsteps sounded from the mouth of the alley. Jin Xiaolong, dressed in black, rushed in with his underlings. The moment he entered the alley, he saw his two hired retainers lying perfectly still on the ground—one with a shattered chest, the other with a crushed skull. Deader than dead. Standing before them was only the man missing one arm. A chill surged up from Jin Xiaolong’s heart.