Anyone else would have already flown into a rage by now.
But Yang Cheng's face remained perfectly calm, not a ripple of emotion showing. He even smiled faintly. "First, I know the Tang Clan comes from the Northern Soaring Cloud Ancient Domain of the Primordial God Realm—a lineage that's lasted for tens of thousands of years, rich in history and power."
Tang Yurou's phoenix eyes flickered with a trace of surprise. "Oh? I didn't expect you to know that much. Was it Cheng Junyi who told you, or that little girl Tang Xingyu?"
"It doesn't matter who told you." Tang Yurou's tone quickly cooled again. "Since you already know, that saves me the trouble of explaining. The Tang Clan's gates are far beyond your reach. The sooner you stop harboring delusions, the better it'll be for both of us."
But Yang Cheng acted as though he hadn't heard a word she said. "Second, the Tang Clan once crippled Tangtang, nearly killing her."
He raised his gaze, his eyes locking onto Tang Yurou's, voice edged with chill. "Now that you've found she survived and grew stronger in adversity—surpassing even your expectations—you suddenly want to take her back? To use her again as a pawn to solidify your family's position?"
"You—!"
Tang Yurou's expression changed completely. The composure she had maintained shattered, irritation flaring in her eyes.
She had expected Yang Cheng to tremble in fear upon learning who she was, but she never thought he'd dare speak to her like this.
"Third."
Yang Cheng didn't give her any face at all. "It's not me who should stay away from Tangtang—it's your Tang Clan."
His voice turned cold as frost. "If I ever find out that your clan dares to harm her again, then even if you are an ancient family of the God Realm, I'll still make sure to settle the debt with you."
Tang Yurou's eyes blazed with fury. "You think you're worthy of challenging the Tang Clan? Just who do you think you are?"
A cool yet melodious voice cut through the tension.
"In my eyes, as long as Chengcheng has enough time, even the Tang Clan will one day be beneath his feet."
A slender figure stepped out from behind—the girl's long hair cascaded like a waterfall, her legs straight and graceful, her face fair and flawlessly delicate. It was Tang Xingyu.
"What a joke…"
Tang Yurou sneered coldly—but then her eyes flickered with a trace of astonishment as she truly looked at the girl.
Even as one born into the Tang Clan of the God Realm, she had seen countless prodigies. Yet this young woman's beauty, temperament, and aura were breathtaking.
Not just her appearance, but her cultivation and spirit—everything about her screamed perfection.
"Xingyu, it's you."
Tang Yurou's tone shifted slightly. "The Tang Clan is an ancient house of the God Realm. Our ancestor is a Boundary God—one flick of his finger could erase this pitiful Wasteland Realm. Don't let this toad deceive you."
"No. He's not the toad—you and the Tang Clan are."
Tang Xingyu's voice was cold, her expression like frost. "Neither you nor the Tang Clan is even qualified to carry his shoes."
"You really have been bewitched by him." Tang Yurou frowned deeply. "Xingyu, you must understand—we are both members of the Tang Clan. He's just an outsider. Everything I've said is for your own good."
Tang Xingyu's eyes grew even colder, her tone unwavering. "In my heart, you're the outsider. Chengcheng is the closest person I have in this world. No one is allowed to insult him."
She took a single step forward. In that moment, her sword intent burst out like a raging tide. Her gentle aura transformed, sharp and unyielding as a blade.
"And you—" she said icily, "you're a piece of trash who can't even compare to me. What right do you have to insult him?"
"I'm trash?"
Tang Yurou's fury twisted into mocking laughter. "Xingyu, how old are you? You're probably not even at the level of a god yet, and you dare call me trash?"
In her mind, no matter how talented Tang Xingyu might be, she was still too young—too far beneath her level.
"I said you're trash, so you're trash."
Before the last word faded, Tang Xingyu's figure vanished like a phantom.
She brought her fingers together like a sword, a faint cyan light curling around her fingertips. The strike looked plain and effortless, yet it carried the profound essence of heaven and earth. As her sword light sliced through the air, a clear hum echoed—ethereal, almost divine.
That sword was breathtakingly beautiful—so stunning that it could make one lose their mind—but hidden within that beauty was deadly danger.
At first, Tang Yurou didn't take it seriously. She raised her palm casually, condensing a shield of true qi to block the sword strike.
"Ding!"
The sword light struck the shield with a crisp, ringing sound.
Tang Yurou's mocking expression froze. A terrifying sword intent rushed along her arm, shaking her qi and blood violently. She staggered backward three steps before she could stop herself.
"How is that possible?"
Shock and fury flashed in Tang Yurou's eyes. She hadn't expected Tang Xingyu's sword to be so powerful!
"Trash."
Tang Xingyu coldly spat out the word and moved again. Her second sword followed instantly—faster, sharper, deadlier. The sword light flashed like lightning, piercing straight toward Tang Yurou's heart!
Tang Yurou no longer dared to take her lightly. She quickly summoned a jade hairpin glowing with spiritual light to intercept the blow.
"Clang!"
The hairpin vibrated violently, trembling with a sharp hum as Tang Yurou was forced back again.
"Trash."
A third sword followed. Then a fourth.
Each sword came faster than the last, each strike more ruthless and precise. Tang Xingyu's blade pressed Tang Yurou back step by step.
Every time the sword flashed, it was followed by that same cold, cutting word—"Trash." The sound hit Tang Yurou's heart like a hammer, again and again.
Her once-graceful figure turned disheveled and desperate. The half-step Yin God cultivation she had been so proud of was utterly useless before Tang Xingyu. The girl's swordsmanship was exquisite, her sword intent so fierce that even Tang Yurou's heart trembled with fear.
"No! Impossible!"
Unable to accept it, Tang Yurou screamed, unleashing her full power in a final attempt to fight back. But Tang Xingyu's eighth sword shattered her jade hairpin, and the ninth followed immediately!
"Puchi!"
The sword light pierced through Tang Yurou's shoulder without resistance, blood scattering in a bright arc.
Tang Yurou let out a scream as her body flew backward like a broken kite before crashing heavily onto the ground.
Tang Xingyu walked toward her slowly, her long sword pointed at Tang Yurou's throat. Her eyes were cold as ice. "You can't even withstand one of my strikes. If that's not trash, then what is?"
Tang Yurou clutched her bleeding shoulder, eyes wide with disbelief and fear.
She never imagined that the girl once abandoned by the family and exiled to the Wasteland Realm could have grown into such a terrifying force.
With this kind of strength, even among the younger generation of the Tang Clan in the God Realm, Tang Xingyu would rank near the top.
"Get lost."
Tang Xingyu withdrew her sword, her tone devoid of any emotion.
Tang Yurou met Tang Xingyu's icy gaze, then glanced at Yang Cheng, who had been calm the entire time. Her heart burned with humiliation and unwillingness.
But she knew she was no match for Tang Xingyu. Staying any longer would only bring her more shame.
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself up, glared at the two of them with hatred, and turned to flee in disgrace.
Only after Tang Yurou's figure disappeared did Tang Xingyu turn around to face Yang Cheng. Her expression softened instantly. "Chengcheng, I'm sorry. I made you suffer."
Her voice carried a hint of guilt. "I actually wanted to kill her, but she's still a member of the Tang Clan. If I killed her, it might draw more of their experts here and bring you trouble, so I spared her life."
Yang Cheng reached out and gently brushed her hair, warmth flickering in his eyes.
Of course he knew—given Tang Yurou's personality, sparing her wouldn't end the matter. She would definitely seek revenge later. Tang Xingyu was still too young and hadn't thought that far.
But everything she had done came from the heart, all for his sake. And that, to him, mattered more than anything else.
"I know," Yang Cheng said softly with a faint smile.