A jade flute wove through the air, and time seemed to stand still.
The raging energy had barely begun to spread before it was abruptly snuffed out. Daoist Hulu's self-detonation of his Golden Core was a ruthless move, completely catching everyone present off guard. The onlookers standing close by broke out in cold sweat, and even Xia Changsheng, who had long since hidden far away in the back, could not help secretly wiping away the sweat.
In that fleeting instant, the shadow of death had loomed over them. Had the jade flute not intervened to defuse the crisis, at least a large majority of the thousands of spectators would surely have perished.
High up in the air, the destructive force resembled blooming fireworks pinched out before they could fully blossom. The area affected by Daoist Hulu's self-detonation was severely limited; apart from An Qisheng, who was caught at the absolute center of the blast, the outer periphery remained largely untouched.
The jade flute paused, emitting a strange undulation that pacified and dissipated the lingering, turbulent energy. Soon, the dark clouds scattered, sunlight poured down once more, and everything returned to a state of harmony, as if the fierce battle moments ago had never existed.
A short while later, ripples formed in the empty air, and An Qisheng's figure reappeared. He cut a thoroughly battered and miserable figure: his heroic momentum was entirely gone, his helmet was missing, his hair was disheveled, and his once-opulent silver armor was tattered and torn. Clearly, he had suffered heavy injuries.
"Dammit, what an absolute lunatic!"
The moment An Qisheng landed, he could not help spitting out a mouthful of blood, resentment burning in his chest. His losses this time were truly devastating; not only was his Heavenly Halberd severely damaged in Daoist Hulu's self-detonation, but he had also lost a crucial trump card.
He did not hail from a major power; his family was merely an ordinary wealthy merchant clan within Liucheng. He had climbed to his present status only because of a fortuitous encounter in his youth. His trump cards were already few to begin with, all saved specifically for his impending breakthrough to the Golden Core Stage. How could he not feel heartbroken over losing one?
Yet, upon second thought, he could not help feeling a sense of fortune. The self-detonation of a Golden Core Real Person possessed truly terrifying might—something entirely beyond the ability of any Foundation Establishment cultivator to withstand. Standing at the very center of the explosion, even just the stray wisps of energy had given him the illusion that his body was about to be torn apart. Had someone not stepped in from the outside at the critical moment, he could not have been certain whether his life-saving trump card would have actually worked.
"Deal with it."
As everything returned to calm, that aloof female voice echoed from afar once more—still as cold and devoid of emotion as before, as if the terrifying events just now had been nothing more than a casual gesture.
The moment the words fell, the jade flute vanished into the sky amid a flash of colorful light.
"Understood!"
An Qisheng breathed a quiet sigh of relief, bowed deeply toward the depths of the inner city, and then leaped up to the city gate to begin directing the city guards in handling the aftermath.
Soon, everything returned to an orderly state.
After casting one final, lingering look in the direction where Daoist Hulu had detonated himself, An Qisheng returned to his residence to tend to his injuries.
Seeing that normalcy had been restored, the surrounding crowd gradually moved closer.
"That was truly a perilous brush with death!"
"Indeed, who could have possibly anticipated that a high-level demonic cultivator at the Golden Core Stage would show up?"
"If the self-detonation of a Golden Core Real Person had been allowed to release its full power, I'm afraid everything within a radius of several miles would have been wiped clean."
"Those of us standing close by really cheated death this time!"
"We only survived unharmed because City Lord Yu stepped in just in time."
...
Having escaped a calamity, the crowd gathered in small groups and began to discuss the events animatedly, their conversations filled mostly with a profound sense of fortune.
Xia Changsheng and Liu Qingyue walked at the very rear, strolling leisurely toward the city gate.
Both of them remained silent.
Liu Qingyue's delicate brows were slightly furrowed, her gaze drifting as if she were lost in thought.
Meanwhile, Xia Changsheng looked toward the city gate not far away, his expression somewhat solemn.
He had only just arrived in Liucheng, intending to quietly cultivate and grow stronger here for a period of time, only to run into a demonic Golden Core cultivator seeking vengeance. This was hardly a good omen.
Moreover, whether it was his imagination or not, he vaguely felt that this incident was out of the ordinary, leaving him with an unsettling sense that a storm was brewing. Yet, thinking it over from every angle, nothing seemed inherently unreasonable.
The process had its twists and turns, but the outcome was simply that Daoist Hulu had come to avenge his disciple, proved no match for the City Lord of Liucheng, and detonated himself in rage.
"I just hope this doesn't affect me."
Xia Changsheng let out a slight sigh. As things stood, he could only hope the matter would end right here; otherwise, he would have no choice but to seek refuge elsewhere.
What he lacked most right now was time.
And all of that required a stable and secure environment in which to develop.
***
Dahuang Mountain.
A secluded location.
Two figures stood quietly, their auras restrained within their bodies, yet powerful enough to deter nearby demonic beasts from stepping even a single step closer—making the area resemble a forbidden zone.
Both of them kept their gazes fixed on the direction of Liucheng, a dozen miles away, having taken in every detail of what had transpired at the city gate.
"Saintess, this subordinate failed in his duty. I failed to hold back Yu Luosha, allowing her to return in time and resulting in the sect losing a Golden Core expert in vain. This subordinate is willing to accept punishment."
The speaker was a man clad in gray robes, wearing a bronze mask on his face, his voice tinged with a trace of shame. He possessed a tall and robust physique, resembling a fierce tiger even from afar; simply looking at his build was enough to make one's scalp tingle and induce an oppressive sense of dread.
As for the Saintess he addressed, she was a barefoot young woman dressed in a black skirt.
A light veil covered her face, obscuring her features, but the porcelain-white skin exposed to the air and the slender, exquisite curves beneath the black dress made it clear she was an absolute peerless beauty.
Hearing this, the woman did not answer directly, instead asking with a magnetic voice, "Elder Wang, what do you think of Yu Luosha's cultivation?"
The gray-robed man was silent for a moment before replying, "Though she has cultivated for less than a hundred years, she has already reached Golden Core Perfection. She well deserves her grade-six talent. It is a pity I could not use my full strength, lest I alert the enemy and draw the attention of the imperial court's Jingye Division, which is why I could not stop her."
"So you are saying that under equal conditions, even Elder Wang might not necessarily be her match?"
"The waves of the Yangtze River push the ones ahead; since we share the same grade-six Spiritual Root, this subordinate is inferior to her," the gray-robed man readily admitted.
"Then, Elder Wang, how do you think she compares to me?"
The woman seemed intensely interested in this topic, remaining utterly indifferent to the loss of a Golden Core expert.
"Naturally, the Saintess is superior. The Saintess has attained Golden Core Perfection after cultivating for merely sixty years, and you are not the least bit inferior to her. Furthermore, the Saintess possesses a grade-five Spiritual Root; no matter what, Yu Luosha will ultimately find it difficult to ever rival the Saintess in the future."
The woman smiled noncommittally, then smoothly changed the subject. "You have worked hard this time, Elder Wang. As for the death of that piece of trash, you need not dwell on it."
It was evident that the trash the woman referred to was none other than Daoist Hulu.
"It is merely a pity that we could not bring that little fellow with the grade-six Spiritual Root along with us."
The gray-robed man sounded rather regretful. When Daoist Hulu self-detonated earlier, he had assumed An Qisheng stood no chance of survival, but to his surprise, the man had managed to survive against all odds. For a Foundation Establishment cultivator, such a feat was nearly impossible, clearly indicating that An Qisheng possessed some formidable life-saving methods.
"It is of no consequence. He has merely bought himself a little more time."
As her voice trailed off, the woman's figure vanished from the spot.