Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
It was finally the day Han Qixing would depart for Starfall City.
Han Xuan personally escorted his son toward Blueleaf Town, walking at an unhurried pace along the familiar mountain road.
The morning air was calm, almost peaceful.
Halfway through the journey, Han Xuan's steps suddenly halted.
His brows knitted slightly.
Something was wrong.
Suddenly, a faint fluctuation descended from above.
"Xing'er, hide behind me!" Han Xuan shouted, forming seals without hesitation.
Han Qixing's heart skipped, but his reaction was immediate. He retreated behind his father, eyes sharp and alert.
In the next instant—
Boom!
A bolt of silver lightning tore through the sky, crashing down like a falling spear.
But before it could reach them, a thick ice shield condensed above their heads, layers upon layers forming in the blink of an eye.
Crack—crackle!
Lightning danced violently across the frozen surface, but it failed to penetrate.
The ice shield trembled, yet remained intact.
Han Xuan stood beneath it, expression calm, his gaze cold. He said evenly, "Which fellow Daoist is attacking us without warning? Since you've already made a move, why not show yourself?"
A brief silence followed.
Then, a middle-aged man stepped out from the treetops, his figure descending lightly as if carried by the wind. He wore dark robes embroidered with faint thunder patterns, his eyes sharp and filled with scrutiny.
"Heh," The middle-aged man chuckled softly, "It seems my nephew wasn't wrong after all."
His gaze locked onto Han Xuan. His smile thinned, "To think that the owner of a mere tavern would be hiding an Eighth Stage Qi Refining cultivation base… What a surprise."
Han Xuan frowned as his gaze fell upon the thunder patterns embroidered on the man's robes. A cold sneer curved his lips as he said calmly, "So Chen Wuye has finally stopped pretending. What is it this time? Last time, he sent three lowly bandits to kill me and failed. Now he sends his uncle instead?"
The middle-aged man raised an eyebrow, surprise flashing briefly across his face. He said thoughtfully, "So the Blackscale Brothers really died by your hand? Well... with your cultivation base, that's hardly unexpected. Still, what a pity. My nephew spent quite a sum of spirit coins on them."
He chuckled softly, eyes narrowing, "And yet, in the end, all that wealth fell straight into your pocket. Am I right?"
"…" Han Xuan smiled faintly. He replied leisurely, "Rest assured, I put those spirit coins to good use. Not a single one was wasted."
The middle-aged man stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. He said coldly, "You still don't seem to understand your situation. Do you truly believe that a mere Eighth Stage Qi Refining cultivator can contend with me?"
At the same time, he released pressure that belongs to the Ninth Stage of Qi Refining.
Han Xuan was not intimidated. Instead, he let out a light chuckle and said evenly, "Who knows? It just sometimes, cultivation base doesn't represent everything."
The man fell silent. Then, suddenly, he laughed loudly. His gaze sharpened, "Haha! I do like confident young men. What a shame you've chosen to be my nephew's enemy."
Before the last word faded—
Crackle!
A dense ball of lightning condensed in his palm. In the next instant, it exploded outward.
Lightning snakes burst forth one after another, hissing as they tore through the air toward Han Xuan.
Han Xuan's expression remained unchanged.
He swiftly formed hand seals.
Rumble!
Jagged ice spikes erupted from the ground in rapid succession, forming a frozen barricade. The lightning snakes collided with the ice, crackling violently before being forcibly dispersed.
"Not bad for a mere casual cultivator. It seems you are not only talented at brewing wine but also gifted in cultivation. No wonder my nephew has his eyes on you." The middle-aged man said coldly. Then, his gaze turned ruthless, "But that's as far as you go."
Before Han Xuan could respond, the clouds above churned violently.
A giant finger wreathed in crackling lightning descended from the sky, carrying overwhelming pressure, as if judgment itself was coming down.
Han Xuan's pupils constricted.
This is Thunder Severing Finger, which is the signature spell of the Chen Family.
He had seen Chen Ziming display this spell during the Hundred Sects Recruitment. However, compared to what was shown that time, this Thunder Severing Finger seems far stronger and more domineering.
His expression grew solemn.
This time, his hand seals were far more intricate, his movements sharp and decisive. Cold air surged around him as he roared: "Ice God!"
Boom!
The ground trembled.
A colossal statue of ice burst upward from the earth, towering like a frozen deity. Upon closer inspection, its features were identical to Han Xuan's—same face, same posture, same chilling presence.
The ice statue stepped forward, spreading its arms.
It shielded both Han Xuan and his son.
The lightning-covered finger slammed down.
Crash!
Thunder roared.
Ice shards and lightning exploded outward, the violent shockwave ripping across the ground as the two forces collided head-on.
The middle-aged man frowned. He muttered, "What kind of spell is that? How could a mere casual cultivator possess such a technique?"
A trace of doubt flickered through his eyes.
'Could this tavern owner have a hidden background?'
But the thought was quickly dismissed.
How could someone with an extraordinary backing willingly hide in a remote backwater like Blueleaf Market, running a small tavern for years without a ripple?
'No, he must be one of those lucky casual cultivators!'
The realization made his breathing subtly quicken.
Greed ignited in his gaze.
If he could seize Han Xuan's spell and his cultivation techniques, this trip would be worth far more than his nephew's commission. With such merits, exchanging them within the family for a Foundation Pill would not be impossible.
At the thought of that pill, his expression unconsciously softened into yearning.
At his stage, what else could he desire?
Every alliance he formed, every favor he owed or repaid, and every drop of blood he spilled was for that single step into Foundation Establishment.
Originally, he had agreed to help his nephew kill Han Xuan because the man was rumored to be wealthy and to possess a rare wine-brewing inheritance.
But now…
This casual cultivator had revealed something far more valuable.
"Hm?" The middle-aged man's brows knitted together.
Something was wrong.
The dust and mist stirred up by the collision did not disperse as expected.
Instead, it grew thicker and... colder.
The temperature around them plummeted, frost quietly creeping along the ground as the haze condensed into a chilling, pale fog.
The middle-aged man's eyes narrowed, "This mist…"
Before he could finish speaking, countless icy needles shot out of the fog, striking his acupuncture points with terrifying precision.
"W–what?!" His eyes widened in shock.
He was completely caught off guard.
The next instant, his face twisted in agony.
It felt as if his soul had been pierced by a thousand needles. At the same time, an overwhelming cold energy invaded his meridians, rapidly corroding his spiritual energy. His circulation slowed, then began to stagnate entirely.
At this rate, he would soon lose the ability to mobilize his spiritual energy.
"This… how is this possible?" Panic crept into the middle-aged man's voice, "Am I really going to be defeated by a mere Eighth Stage Qi Refining cultivator?!"
Fear finally overwhelmed disbelief.
In desperation, he rummaged through his storage bag and pulled out a purple orb.
But just as he was about to activate it—
The orb vanished.
His pupils shrank.
Before he could even comprehend what had happened, a calm voice spoke from behind him.
"Well done, Baobao."
The middle-aged man froze.
Han Xuan had already appeared behind him, his expression calm and unhurried.
Baobao perched on his shoulder, its eyes half-closed in bliss, as if it had just enjoyed something especially delicious.
Just moments ago, Baobao had used one of its innate abilities—Silent Gate Theft.
This ability allowed Baobao to open a microscopic spatial gate directly beside a target object, causing it to vanish instantly—without disturbing airflow, spiritual fluctuations, or even nearby formations.
The middle-aged man knelt on the ground, his entire body nearly encased in frost.
Moments earlier, using the dense mist generated from the violent collision between his Ice God and the opponent's Thunder Severing Finger, Han Xuan had quietly activated Ice Mist Veil.
The freezing fog of Ice Mist Veil not only obscured vision but also disrupted spiritual perception.
Because of this, the middle-aged man sensed nothing amiss until it was already too late.
Hidden within the mist, the Ice Soul Needles pierced toward him.
Han Xuan knew better than to underestimate a Ninth Stage Qi Refining cultivator. From the very beginning, he had infused the Ice Soul Needles with Sovereign Frost Qi.
The effect was devastating.
Not only was the man's soul wounded, but the terrifying cold also invaded his body and meridians, rapidly freezing his spiritual energy. His thoughts slowed, panic overtook reason, and his reactions became sluggish.
That moment of chaos was all Baobao needed.
With the opponent's mind in disarray, Baobao seamlessly activated Silent Gate Theft, removing the unknown purple orb before it could ever be used.