Chang Wudao cast a cold glance at the two kneeling cultivators. With a casual wave of his sleeve, they were sent flying and crashed to the ground whether they lived or died was uncertain.
"Who did it?" After venting some of his rage, Chang Wudao turned to Li Tiancheng, his voice calm yet devoid of emotion.
Li Tiancheng felt a chill run down his spine. From his understanding of Chang Wudao, this calm was merely the silence before a storm.
Chang Wudao had only one child, born in his later years, whom he cherished dearly afraid to drop him, afraid to spoil him. Now that the boy had died inside the secret realm, it was bound to lead to a bloody reckoning.
"Reporting to Martial Uncle, the one who killed Tianhua was Song Changsheng. He's the grandson of Song Xianming."
"Song Changsheng? The one who injured my son before?" A murderous gleam flashed in Chang Wudao's eyes. A powerful aura erupted from him, causing Li Tiancheng to feel pressure on his chest.
"Yes, exactly him," Li Tiancheng quickly confirmed.
"Very well then. I'll have him buried with my son!" Chang Wudao's voice turned ice-cold. He took a few steps forward and soared into the sky on his sword, turning into a streak of rainbow light.
Seeing this, Li Tiancheng immediately sensed disaster. He hurried to send a message back to the sect that there would be no peaceful resolution to today's events...
...
After returning to Cangmang Peak, Song Xianyun immediately brought Song Changsheng to the Hall Among the Clouds, requesting Song Xianming to emerge from seclusion.
"What has happened?" Song Xianming looked at the two of them with some confusion, turning toward Song Xianyun for answers.
"Big brother, Chang Wudao's only son is dead." Song Xianyun's tone was heavy, and now was no time for formalities.
"Hmm?" Song Xianming frowned. Chang Wudao had only that one son if he was gone, Chang would likely go mad on the spot.
Song Changsheng quickly stepped forward and said, "Grandfather, this was all my fault. Earlier in the secret realm..."
He quickly explained everything that had happened in the secret realm in just a few words. Then he lowered his head and stood before Song Xianming, waiting for punishment.
From his standpoint, since Chang Tianhua and the others had come to kill him, fighting back and killing them in return was justified. No one could say he had done anything wrong.
But the problem was that Chang Tianhua and Qiu Wengui weren't just ordinary people. Their deaths would undoubtedly bring hidden dangers upon the clan, and no one knew how heavy a price they would have to pay to settle it.
Song Xianming cast a glance at him and said calmly, "What mistake did you make?"
"I shouldn't have acted on impulse and brought trouble upon the clan," Song Changsheng replied in a deep voice.
"Bullshit."
Song Xianming stared at him for a moment, then suddenly cursed. He reached out with his withered hand, grabbed Song Changsheng by the collar, and barked, "Raise your head! Indeed, one shouldn't act rashly, but they were already trying to kill you what were you supposed to do, let them go and wait for them to come back stronger.
I don't care who they are. If they're dead, they're dead. Their lives matter but the lives of our Song clan's sons don't? If anyone's got a problem, let them come I'm still alive, and anyone who dares lay a finger on us, I'll cut them down!"
Song Changsheng looked up and met Song Xianming's hawk-like eyes. Suddenly, a smile broke across his face this was the same Song Xianming who once dominated Lingzhou and fought high-level cultivators of the Purple Mansion Realm single-handedly.
He bowed deeply and said with conviction, "I understand, Grandfather."
"Hmph. If you say that kind of nonsense again, I'll give you a beating your mother should've given you," Song Xianming let go and gave a light, half-joking threat.
"Big Brother," Song Xianyun said solemnly, "Chang Wudao is probably already on his way. Shouldn't we prepare?"
Song Xianming didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the distant horizon and said flatly, "No need. He's already here."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a booming voice echoed from afar:
"Song Changsheng, get out here and die!"
"Come with me." Song Xianming placed a hand on Song Changsheng's shoulder. With one step forward, a formation flag appeared beneath their feet, carrying them down the mountain.
At that moment, all of Cangmang Peak was on high alert. The clan's protective formation had been activated, and Foundation Establishment cultivators like Song Luzhou, Song Luyao, and Song Luhuai had all taken to their swords, confronting a black-robed figure with tense expressions.
"Chang Wudao! Have you lost your mind, daring to act so recklessly on our Cangmang Peak?" Song Luzhou shouted coldly at the killing-intent-filled Chang Wudao.
"Hand over Song Changsheng, or I'll bathe your entire clan in blood," Chang Wudao said, hands clasped behind his back, a flicker of flame in his eyes as if he were stating something mundane.
"Arrogant!"
"Insolent!"
Song Luzhou and Song Luyao roared with anger, activating their magical tools, ready for battle.
Just as swords were about to clash, Song Xianming arrived at the foot of the mountain with Song Changsheng and spoke calmly:
"Zhou'er, Yao'er, stand down."
"Uncle."
"Clan Head."
The moment they saw him, the crowd respectfully bowed.
Song Xianming nodded slightly. After setting Song Changsheng down, he rose into the sky on the formation flag, confronting Chang Wudao without the slightest fear.
Song Changsheng looked up. The man hovering in the sky wore a black jade crown and heavy black robes. He had sword-like eyebrows, sharp, narrow eyes, and chiseled cheeks. Though not bulky, his frame exuded a fierce aura like a proud lone eagle.
This was Song Changsheng's first time seeing the leader of the Earthfire Sect in person. He was every bit as proud and domineering as the rumors claimed.
"Song Xianming," Chang Wudao said coldly, "hand over your grandson and I'll leave immediately."
"Heh. After all these years, you're still as overbearing and blunt as ever," Song Xianming replied, hands tucked into his sleeves, his gaze steady and unwavering. "But I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place today."
"So you won't cooperate? With that aging, dying body of yours, do you think you can protect him?" Chang Wudao sneered.
If this had been twenty or even ten years ago, he wouldn't have stood a chance against Song Xianming and would have remained second-best in Lingzhou.
But now, his cultivation had improved immensely, while Song Xianming's had stagnated or worse, regressed.
He was confident in winning if they fought again, and that confidence was exactly why he dared come alone today.
Song Xianming chuckled softly, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. "Whether I can or not we'll only know if we try."
"Hmph! If you want to die, then come out and fight!" Chang Wudao roared. What he hated most was that look of utter disdain Song Xianming always wore.
"Uncle, don't listen to him. Your health can't take this anymore," Song Luzhou urgently transmitted through voice transmission.
Song Xianming waved a hand lightly and said, "I've been in seclusion so long, my bones are rusting. This is just the exercise I need."
He stepped out of the clan's protective barrier on his formation flag and then pointed to the sky. "Let's fight up there."
"Hmph. I'll grant your wish," Chang Wudao smirked, shooting into the sky with his sword. Song Xianming followed close behind.
Song Changsheng craned his neck, watching the two figures vanish into the clouds. He felt a growing sense of anxiety. Song Xianming was undeniably strong but he was getting old, and his body was not what it used to be.
Against Chang Wudao, who had also reached the peak of the Foundation Establishment, victory was anything but certain...
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