"Burp!"
"This beef tastes so good!"
Li Lichang wiped his mouth, half-drunk and satisfied. He was enjoying both the aroma of the meat and the strength of the wine.
"If only I had more spirit stones… I'd head to the brothel right now and burn off some energy! Ah well, a few more days won't hurt. Hehehe…"
He chuckled to himself, clearly imagining the pleasures that awaited him.
Not long after, he stumbled back home.
Unlike Su Zhan's broken wooden hut that barely kept out the wind, Li Lichang lived in a proper tile-roofed house—sturdy, dry, and secure. In the cruel world of the mine, this kind of house was worth hundreds of lives.
⸻
"Crack—"
As he stepped inside, he reached back to shut the door.
But just as it was about to close, a hand suddenly blocked it.
Li Lichang froze.
A familiar face appeared behind the door.
Su Zhan.
His expression was calm. His eyes, cold and unreadable.
"I need to talk to you."
⸻
Li Lichang narrowed his eyes, then laughed.
"Oh? It's you."
He leaned lazily against the doorframe, eyes full of disdain.
"What's the matter? Planning to kill me while I'm drunk, just to get revenge?"
He snorted and smiled arrogantly.
"You should know—I'm stronger than you now."
His words were filled with confidence and contempt.
He had the right to be proud. After all, he'd banded together with ruthless miners, hunted others for spirit stones, and cultivated with no restraints. Meanwhile, Su Zhan could barely afford to eat, let alone train.
The difference in their strength was obvious.
⸻
But Su Zhan just looked at him quietly.
Then, he asked in a calm voice:
"Stronger than me? Are you sure?"
Before the words fully left his lips, Su Zhan moved.
With a flick of his wrist, a dagger appeared in his hand, and he struck toward Li Lichang's abdomen without hesitation!
⸻
But Li Lichang was no fool. He reacted instantly.
He grabbed Su Zhan's wrist with his left hand, stopping the dagger in its tracks.
"Heh. I knew you were dumb, Su Zhan, but I didn't expect this level of stupid."
He grinned, tightening his grip.
"I told you already—with your current strength, you're not even close to being my match—"
Slick.
A faint sound of slicing flesh cut him off mid-sentence.
It was subtle—barely audible.
But to a cultivator at the first level of the Mortal Realm, whose senses were sharper than a normal person's, it was unmistakable.
His body froze.
His pupils contracted.
He felt something warm and wet trickle down the side of his neck.
⸻
His hand slowly reached up.
Blood.
Dark red. Flowing freely.
Under the moonlight, it looked like glowing ink.
Then, without warning, the blood gushed out in a torrent.
Li Lichang's breathing turned ragged. His face twisted in disbelief, horror, and rage.
He wanted to turn around, to see who had struck him from behind—but the moment he tried, a sharp, burning pain tore through his neck.
The wound was deep—too deep.
One wrong move, and his head might fall off.
His legs gave out.
He staggered, choking on blood.
"Wh… who…"
The words barely escaped his mouth as his knees hit the floor.
His vision blurred.
Behind him, in the darkness, stood a black shadow clone, its hand still holding a bloodied blade.
Su Zhan calmly pulled his wrist free from Li Lichang's weakening grip and looked down at him with cold eyes.
"You were right. I couldn't beat you alone."
He turned away without another word.
The shadow clone stepped forward, silent and obedient.
The door slowly creaked shut.
And in the quiet of the night, blood continued to pool on the floor.