"Do you think this knife of mine is sharp enough?"
A simple question, yet it plunged the entire scene into silence. Gan Haotian glanced around. The nobles who had been itching for a fight, ready to cause chaos, now all had their heads bowed, utterly quiet.
Clearly, they're still waiting. They want to use the confrontation between Gan Haotian and to gauge the situation. They want to see if I'm going to behave, or if I'm still the sa as before—swift, rciless, and unforgiving.
However… now that he's beco trash, what right does he have to be so imposing? A piece of trash should know his place and behave himself. He shouldn't be relying on his forr prestige to pretend he's still so big shot.
"HMPH!"
After a mont of thought, Gan Haotian snapped back to reality. He rotated his neck, producing a series of sharp cracks, and sneered with disdain. "Chen Yang, you're a tiger stranded on the plains. You still want to act mighty here?"
"Heh."
Gan Haotian grinned, thinking back to his earlier humiliation. He simply hadn't reacted in ti. Otherwise, how could he have let this piece of trash slap him?
Chen Yang paid him no mind, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. Gan Haotian wasn't the only one dressed in opulent clothing. It seed these people were all here to watch a show, with no respect for the deceased. If that was the case, why would they care about their attire?
There's a saying: when a person leaves, the tea grows cold.
The dead are dead, and the powerful are crippled. What a joyous and exhilarating turn of events!
What they didn't know was that while the Great Elder was dead and gone, the re presence of Chen Yang still made their hearts pound. To see him was to see a god. He still had a spine of steel, ready for battle at a mont's notice.
This was an era that belonged to him, and him alone.
Gan Haotian narrowed his eyes, his killing intent palpable. He mocked, "Like I said before, trash should know its place. Kneel down and kowtow three tis, and maybe you'll have a sliver of a chance to live."
"Are you sure?" Chen Yang's gaze shifted away from Gan Haotian, settling on the morial portrait in the hall. The face in the portrait was as kind and benevolent as ever, drawing people in.
"I, Gan Haotian, never repeat myself," Gan Haotian declared, stepping forward with untad arrogance. "You should understand that killing you would be as easy as flipping my hand. It's no different from crushing an ant."
"Haotian, don't waste your ti on a cripple. Besides, why would you dirty your hands on such filth?" an elder of the Gan Family, Gan Hua, said with overwhelming arrogance. "They all say you, Chen Yang, dominated an era. I've long been unconvinced. Since we've happened to cross paths today, let's have a little spar."
He only dared to be so outrageously presumptuous because he knew Chen Yang's cultivation was gone. Otherwise, not even a hundred tis the courage would have been enough.
"Kneel for !"
Gan Hua sneered. If I kill Chen Yang today, my prestige and influence will skyrocket. What a thrill it would be to use the forr Supre Martial Commander as my stepping stone!
However, neither the advancing Gan Hua, the spectating Gan Haotian, nor the surrounding crowd noticed Yang Hu at Chen Yang's side, who was ticulously putting on a pair of gloves. He painstakingly adjusted them for a perfect fit.
WHOOSH.
Gan Hua launched a thunderous strike.
BOOM!
At the sa instant, a massive hand shot out. When the crowd's senses caught up, a tower-like figure had risen from the ground, holding Gan Hua aloft as if he were a child.
SPURT.
With his neck caught in the grip, blood trickled from the corner of Gan Hua's mouth, staining the pristine white gloves red.
"Who did you want to kneel to you?"
The deep, thunderous voice spread out like the toll of a great bell. It was so deafening it made one's soul tremble. Yang Hu flexed his forearm, holding Gan Hua high in the air like a chick. Despite his desperate struggles, Gan Hua couldn't move an inch.
This...
HISSS...
Many in the crowd gasped. This Gan Family elder was a powerhouse at the thirteenth rank. A full-force attack from him was thought to be unstoppable. And yet?
The crucial part is that the attacker is none other than Chen Yang's subordinate, a man everyone recognizes. How could a re underling possess such terrifying combat strength? He has to be at the thirteenth rank or higher!
All at once, the vast venue fell deathly silent. Countless eyes scrutinized Yang Hu before finally converging on Chen Yang.
"What kind of garbage thinks he can step on my Boss's head to build his reputation? I think you're tired of living!"
THUD!
Yang Hu slamd a fist down. With a casual flick of his arm, he began pulling off his blood-stained glove, asking indifferently, "Who else is looking to die?"
The crowd was speechless.
RUSTLE. RUSTLE.
Those standing closer stumbled back one after another as if they had seen a ghost.
He's just a follower, but... this power!
Only a few people faintly rembered.
「Not long ago.」
At the Sanqing Daoist Temple, beneath a sky of falling yellow leaves, Chen Yang had, with a flick of his finger, caused the young Daoist priest Qin Hao's cultivation to jump two entire ranks, shaking the world. In his pri, not only was Chen Yang's personal combat prowess unmatched, but he could also grant cultivation to others with ease. His hands could pluck the stars and seize the moon; there was no one else like him in the world.
HISSS...
When he realized that Yang Hu, the man who had just punched his own second uncle to death, was now staring intently at him, Gan Haotian felt his scalp prickle. He subconsciously retreated several steps.
Yang Hu said nothing, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he kept his eyes locked on him.
"I... I..." Gan Haotian's throat tightened as cold sweat poured down his pale face. "I apologize."
"Eh," Yang Hu waved a hand dismissively. "Save the apology for later. First, do what you're supposed to do."
Gan Haotian was left speechless. Is he really... really going to make strip off my clothes right here?
"Hmm?" Yang Hu's tone grew heavy.
BUZZ!
Gan Haotian felt his mind go blank. He couldn't hold out any longer. He quickly unfastened his fine clothes and, under the intense gaze of the crowd, stripped them off. A cold gust of wind swept over him, and the young master of the Gan Family began to shiver violently.
"Kneel."
THUD.
Gan Haotian didn't dare say another word and imdiately fell to his knees.
Yang Hu kicked out, planting his foot on Gan Haotian's face. His narrowed eyes glinted with a cold light. "Trash like you thinks my Boss should apologize to you? You really think you're sothing special? We should have dealt with the entire Gan Family back in the dicine Capital."
Gan Haotian could say nothing.
Chen Yang stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze still fixed on the morial portrait, lost in thought. He remained as extraordinary and imposing as ever, paying no mind to the events unfolding around him.
After a long mont, he slowly turned. His gaze swept across the entire scene from left to right—indifferent, calm, and utterly devoid of pressure. He gave a quiet command to Yang Hu. "Make them strip."
"All of you in fine clothes, strip!" Yang Hu roared. With one foot still on Gan Haotian, he narrowed his eyes and surveyed the crowd with a lofty, predatory gaze, like a hawk circling its prey.
The crowd was stunned into silence. Do they have to be so domineering?!
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