Chapter Seventy-Nine: Please, Carry On—Should I Wait a Little Longer?

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In the sky of a certain world, a black hole suddenly appeared.

With a slithering sound, a humanoid figure slipped through the black hole and plummeted from the heavens. Then, with a resounding smack, the figure landed face-first upon the earth.

“Damn! This landing technique needs improvement!” Yang Xin slowly got to his feet.

Thanks to the protection of his Treasure Distribution System, Yang Xin, despite falling from the sky under the force of gravity, hadn’t had his face flattened.

“Byakugan!” Yang Xin activated his Byakugan, scanning his surroundings. In the distance, he spotted a fairly wide dirt road, beside which stood a tavern, its large “Wine” banner fluttering in the wind.

Through the black-and-white vision of the Byakugan, Yang Xin observed a group of people inside the tavern, drinking with abandon. Judging by their garments, they resembled the attire from the Ming Dynasty of China. Whether that was truly the case, he would soon find out.

Yang Xin shook his head. Not wanting to shock the locals, he refrained from flying over and instead walked at a leisurely pace. Yang Xin could fly—if Madara Uchiha of the Six Paths could soar, why not he? But now was not the time; he chose to approach slowly.

As he pushed open the tavern door, the scene before him left him stunned.

There were eight people in the tavern. One elderly man was clearly the proprietor; another was a graceful young woman with a pale, troubled expression, likely a serving girl. The remaining six were split into two groups, each group of two against one, locked in intense combat.

One group seemed relatively normal: two men dressed as escorts were trading blows with a young swordsman, fists and feet flying.

The other group’s movements were rather peculiar. Though it was also two against one, the dynamic was quite different. The man who held the advantage had seized another by the head, forcing him down, while a third wrapped his arms desperately around the waist of the one being pinned, trying to prevent his companion’s defeat.

If any fujoshi were present, their eyes would have sparkled with delight, but Yang Xin found the sight somewhat eye-searing; after all, they were all men, not beautiful maidens…

At the sound of the door, Yang Xin was momentarily frozen, as were the combatants.

“Did I come at a bad time? Perhaps you should continue, and I’ll return later?” Yang Xin quipped.

His words were answered by a sudden splatter. The man being throttled, enraged and humiliated, grabbed the dagger strapped to his thigh and thrust it forward, plunging it deep into his opponent’s chest.

“Brother Jia, hurry to my father—avenge me!” the dying man cried out in anguish.

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Upon realizing the gravity of the situation, Brother Jia landed two heavy punches to drive back his foes, then dashed toward the tavern door, intent on escaping. Unfortunately, Yang Xin stood squarely in his path, blocking his way.

A fierce glint flashed in Jia’s eyes as he launched a lethal strike at Yang Xin’s throat.

Seeing Jia’s ruthless intent, Yang Xin responded in kind. With a wave of his hands, two golden chakra blades, crackling with sparks, materialized in the air. With a single sweep, the blades sliced Jia cleanly in two.

“Demon sorcery!” one of the escorts cried out in terror, stumbling backward so frantically he seemed about to lose control of his bladder.

Smack! Smack! His companion rushed over and slapped him twice, so hard the man’s face swelled at once.

“Please, don’t be angry, elder! My brother has had too much to drink and is not himself. Please forgive him, and allow us to make amends!” He punctuated his words with two vicious kicks to his companion, then dragged him forward, forcing him to bow his head deeply in apology.

“Not bad, quick-witted. Very well, just be careful what you say,” Yang Xin remarked, appreciating the man's presence of mind as well as his loyalty. He waved his hand and strode further into the tavern.

The escort, eager to please, scurried over, offering a stool and wiping the table clean, then brought over the wild game from his own table for Yang Xin.

“I am Lin Pingzhi, junior head of the Fortune Escort Agency. Thank you, elder!” Lin Pingzhi said respectfully.

“So it’s you,” Yang Xin nodded. No wonder the scene felt familiar. This was The Smiling, Proud Wanderer. The tavern keeper and the serving girl must be Lao Denuo and Yue Lingshan. Heaven only knew what madness had overtaken Yue Buqun to let his precious daughter mingle with that treacherous Lao Denuo.

“And your name?” Yang Xin pointed at the perceptive escort.

“Elder, my surname is Shi. I am an escort of the Fortune Agency. You may simply call me Old Shi,” he replied obsequiously, not daring to underestimate Yang Xin due to his youth; what he had just witnessed had already shattered his worldview. The techniques Yang Xin used were beyond the realm of martial arts, verging on the supernatural.

He dared not say so, of course. As a seasoned veteran, Old Shi’s skills may have been middling, but his judgment was sound. Fearing he might anger Yang Xin and cause harm to his companions, he sought to appease him, and fortunately, it seemed to work.

“Old Shi, have a seat,” Yang Xin gestured to a nearby spot.

“In your presence, elder, how could I presume to sit? Please, ask whatever you will—I shall remain crouched,” Old Shi replied with a fawning smile, squatting down at once. He even pulled Lin Pingzhi down beside him, lest his young master offend their powerful guest.

Lin Pingzhi, still shaken by the killing, allowed himself to be pulled down. The other escorts, all experienced men, followed suit, crouching without hesitation. The one who had cried “demon sorcery,” now sobered by slaps and kicks, quickly turned and knelt with his head bowed, not daring to look up.

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“Do you know who your young master has just killed?” Yang Xin asked, pointing at the two corpses before them.

“Two people? Our young master only killed one! Are you saying the one you killed counts against us too?” Old Shi blurted out, his eyes wide with astonishment, but he dared not protest further, only shook his head in confusion.

“Lin Pingzhi first killed Yu Renyan, then Jia Renda. Yu Renyan was no ordinary man—he was the beloved son of Yu Canghai, master of the Qingcheng Sect,” Yang Xin said calmly.

The words struck like thunder. Old Shi felt as if a lightning bolt had exploded in his mind. His face drained of color as he pointed at the corpses with a trembling finger. “They… they’re from the Qingcheng Sect? And that’s the master’s son?”

“Now you understand the seriousness of this matter! Lin Pingzhi, have you come to your senses?” Yang Xin smiled at Lin Pingzhi.

Lin Pingzhi, too, was deeply shaken by Yang Xin’s revelation, though he seemed more troubled by the act of killing itself than by the identities of the dead.

“Please, elder, allow me to tidy up, lest the sight offend you,” Old Shi said, rallying his wits despite his shock. Whatever Yang Xin’s allegiance, it was best to dispose of the evidence first.

“No need, I’ll take care of it,” Yang Xin replied, producing a four-dimensional pouch. The bodies of Yu Renyan and Jia Renda were sucked inside.

Yang Xin slipped his hand into the pouch, and two branches sprouted from his palm, piercing the corpses. In less than a breath, the divine tree sapling within him had drained their flesh and blood, reducing the bodies to dust—after all, even a mosquito is meat…

Of course, all this happened inside the dimensional pouch, invisible to the others. All they saw was a wave of Yang Xin’s hand, and the corpses vanished.

“Elder! You possess a Sumeru Ring!” Old Shi cried, his face ashen.

Lin Pingzhi’s face, too, changed dramatically. He finally realized that compared to this man before him, even Yu Canghai of the Qingcheng Sect was nothing.

Yang Xin looked at Lin Pingzhi with a sigh. At this age, Lin Pingzhi was in his prime, with limitless potential. Even if he couldn’t dominate the martial world, his family’s wealth alone would make him a young master of privilege. His upbringing seemed solid too—he was willing to stand up for Yue Lingshan, even in her peasant disguise, proving his sense of justice and chivalry. Yet such a fine young man, in time, would be twisted by fate into a pitiful, hateful, tragic figure…

“Old Shi, return to Fortune Escort Agency and have Lin Zhennan come to claim his son!”