Chapter 830: Strike High, Crush Low

The cultivation world has never been peaceful!

When He Pingsheng's cultivation was low, he was always cautious in everything he did.

Thus, he encountered few troubles or unpleasant incidents.

Now that his cultivation has risen to Void Refinement, he need not be so restrained before these low-level disciples.

Yet even this small display of power drew attention.

"Sigh…" He sighed deeply, muttering to himself: "To strike down those weaker than me is not my way. I'll give you all a chance—hope you retreat while you still can!"

"Otherwise, don't blame me for opening the slaughter!"

With that, He Pingsheng stood still in empty space.

After a few breaths, four streaks of light landed before, behind, left, and right of him, nearly blocking all escape routes.

"That's right, Young Master—this is the man!"

A familiar voice came forth.

The speaker was none other than the manager of the Bamboo Joint Trading Society: Manager Cui!

Manager Cui's eyes gleamed with greed as he smiled warmly: "A stranger from afar, so careless—don't blame us for being ruthless!"

He Pingsheng said: "You mean heartless and ruthless, right?"

Manager Cui had been a manager for over a hundred years—what kind of people hadn't he seen?

With his sharp eyes, he instantly recognized He Pingsheng as an outsider; otherwise, why would he come here and spend such a vast sum on a map?

Moreover, since He Pingsheng addressed him as "fellow cultivator," he must also be at Golden Core.

Perhaps slightly higher than him, but certainly not Nascent Soul.

Anyone at Nascent Soul would know how to teleport.

If he had one high-grade spirit stone, he must have more than one.

If he had only one, he'd guard it like his life—why would he waste it on a map?

All these signs led Manager Cui to fix He Pingsheng's cultivation and identity—and thus sparked this tale of murder and theft.

"Excellent!" A middle-aged man, seemingly in his forties, glanced at He Pingsheng and laughed loudly: "Kid… you've got more high-grade spirit stones on you, right?"

"Hand them all over!"

"I'll spare your life!"

"Wait… what's this… damn… amazing treasure!"

"What level of treasure is this? Even I can't tell!"

Before he finished speaking, the Young Master turned his gaze to the Silver River Sky Shuttle in He Pingsheng's hand.

"This?" He Pingsheng waved the Silver River Sky Shuttle. "An Xuantian Spirit Treasure—though you could call it an Emperor Weapon…"

"And a high-grade Emperor Weapon at that!"

Boom…

As he spoke, a sliver of magic power surged into the Silver River Sky Shuttle, forcing open its thirty-one sealing layers.

Seeing the thirty-one sealing layers, the Young Master erupted in excitement: "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit… Emperor Weapon… damn, it's an Emperor Weapon!"

He Pingsheng revealed the Emperor Weapon to give them a chance.

To make them retreat while they still could.

That way, he wouldn't have to strike down the weak.

But instead of making them retreat, the Emperor Weapon only deepened their greed.

"Quick—what else do you have? Bring it all out!"

"Let us see!"

The Young Master's face was thick with greed.

He Pingsheng's expression remained calm; he waved his hand and produced another golden banner: the Golden Time-Space Banner!

Boom…

A thread of magic power sank into it, and the banner unfolded as well.

Another Emperor Weapon.

"More!" He Pingsheng waved again, and tens of thousands of supreme-grade spirit stones floated around his body.

Seeing these, Manager Cui instantly realized his mistake.

His face darkened; he bowed to He Pingsheng. "Fellow cultivator… we apologize. You may go—this was all our fault. We were blinded by greed!"

"Please, fellow cultivator, show mercy!"

At this point, anyone with even a shred of sense would let He Pingsheng go.

After all, who could afford to offend someone who could produce such things in one breath?

One man, possessing two Emperor Weapons?

Where did he come from?

He must be gifted by a senior clan member—only the Qilin Clan could produce such a person.

At this moment, Manager Cui nearly regarded He Pingsheng as a prodigy of the Qilin Clan.

Yet the Young Master had already lost himself in the wealth before him.

"What's to fear?" He waved his hand and produced a golden longsword: "Even if he's a Qilin Clan prodigy, so what? Fortune favors the bold—kill him, and who'll know it was us?"

"This is an Emperor Weapon!"

"Heaven offers it, and you refuse—then you'll suffer the consequences!"

"Brothers, attack!"

As the Young Master raised his sword to strike, he suddenly saw his three companions explode into pieces.

Puddles of flesh and blood scattered in empty space.

Yet He Pingsheng stood motionless, not moving a muscle.

"You…"

"You you you…" The Young Master finally felt fear: "You're not Golden Core—you're Nascent Soul?"

"You're pretending to be weak?"

He Pingsheng said coolly: "Say so if you like."

"Don't kill me… my grandfather is the Lord of Bamboo Joint City. Kill me, and you'll die too!"

Before He Pingsheng could speak, the Young Master ignited a talisman, which instantly transformed into a streak of light and fled.

Had He Pingsheng moved to stop it, the light could not have escaped.

But since he wanted to send word, let him send it.

A mere Soul Transformation cultivator? Easy to kill.

"Fellow cultivator, stop!" A withered voice echoed from the horizon.

But it was too late!

He Pingsheng slapped his hand forward—the Young Master turned instantly into pulp.

"Damn you… you'll die…"

The old man, voice thick with rage, appeared beside He Pingsheng in an instant.

As Lord of the city, the old man was not as reckless as his grandson.

He did not strike immediately; instead, he waved his hand and retrieved his grandson's soul.

"What happened?" The old man asked his grandson's soul.

The soul replied: "Grandfather… kill him! He has Emperor Weapons! I thought he was Golden Core—he's actually a Nascent Soul pretending to be weak!"

"Grandfather, you must kill him for me!"

"Good… good… good…" The Lord gnashed his teeth in fury, his spiritual sense sweeping over He Pingsheng—only to find his cultivation truly remained at Golden Core.

"So you're pretending to be weak? Old man, today—"

Before he finished speaking, He Pingsheng raised his hand and waved it. "Withdraw now, and you live."

"Otherwise, you won't even know how you died."

"Bullshit!" The old Lord roared, and a white spiritual thought-knife shot from his mind-sea, piercing straight toward He Pingsheng.

His first move was to strike down the weak.

He sought to crush He Pingsheng with spiritual pressure.