"Venerable Pill Immortal, this..." The six elders stared in stunned silence, their faces ashen with shock. They couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. The Vice Sect Master, once a figure of great authority, had been slapped with such force that he was thrown clear through the wall. His body lay unmoving, crumpled in a grotesque position, as though he were dead. This sight alone made the elders panic, uncertainty gnawing at their hearts. They had never seen the Vice Sect Master so utterly humiliated.
Within moments, the Seventh Elder arrived with Luo Feng. They entered the room to find Wen Ran lying unconscious on one side, his body sprawled on the cold floor. Meanwhile, the Vice Sect Master’s legs stuck out from the hole in the wall, his feet twitching slightly as sunlight poured through the massive gap, illuminating the otherwise dim room with an eerie, harsh light.
But despite the scene before him, the old man Venerable Pill Immortal showed no sign of concern. His gaze was cool and unwavering, as though he were entirely indifferent to the shockwaves his actions had caused. He didn’t believe he had acted out of line; in his mind, Wen Ran was far more important than some arrogant fool who believed himself to be a god. Wen Ran’s future, his very growth, was worth more than any petty conflict in the sect.
"Every single one of you, leave," the old man commanded, his voice low but filled with an undeniable authority. "Only I and Wen Ran will remain. I need to ensure this junior—who has lost his way—learns his lesson and apologizes to my disciple." His tone was as firm and unyielding as stone, each word laced with the weight of someone used to giving orders that were followed without question.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
The elders trembled at the words, and their mouths opened in protest, fingers half-raised as if to say something—but in the end, none of them dared to speak. The weight of the old man’s command was too heavy to defy. One by one, they left the room, their heads lowered in respect, fear, or both.
Luo Feng, however, hesitated, his gaze flickering between the unconscious Wen Ran and the old man. He felt conflicted. He didn’t want to leave his friend alone in the presence of someone he had never fully trusted. But as he watched the old man, he couldn’t ignore the care he had shown for Wen Ran. The Pill Immortal’s unwavering focus on his disciple had made something clear: he cared about Wen Ran more than he cared about anything else.
Luo Feng, despite his reservations about the old man’s methods and his growing doubts about his capability as a mentor, realized that he had misjudged him. The old man’s dedication to Wen Ran’s well-being, the lengths he was willing to go to, made Luo Feng rethink everything he had thought about the Pill Immortal. Perhaps he wasn’t as senile as Luo Feng had believed.
With a final glance at Wen Ran, Luo Feng reluctantly left the room, his mind heavy with conflicting thoughts. He had decided that Wen Ran was in capable hands—despite those very hands being the ones that had knocked him out moments ago. Yet, there were still so many questions left unanswered, particularly the aura he had felt at the end. It was something far beyond Wen Ran’s known capabilities, and Luo Feng would need to press him for answers later.
"Now..." The old man’s voice broke the silence, calm yet tinged with irritation. "How about you stop pretending to be dead and get up? You’re making me look like a bad person here." His eyes were fixed on the hole in the wall, but his words weren’t directed at the Vice Sect Master. They were aimed squarely at his mischievous disciple, whose form still lay sprawled on the floor.
"Heh..." Wen Ran’s lips curled into a sinister smile as he slowly sat up, the remnants of his previous state of near-uncontrollable rage still simmering beneath the surface. "You see right through me, no wonder you are an old demon, Master."
Wen Ran had felt the old man’s aura slam into him like a tidal wave, but it wasn’t overwhelmingly powerful. It wasn’t enough to fully crush him, yet it was more than enough to snap him out of the mysterious state he had been in. For the first time, Wen Ran couldn’t understand where that killing intent had come from, or why it had taken over his body with such ferocity. It was as if his own instincts had driven him to the edge of madness, and that realization had scared him more than he cared to admit.
He was grateful to his master for saving him today. If the old man hadn’t intervened, Wen Ran knew that he would already be lying cold and lifeless, swallowed by the darkness of his own power.
The moment his master’s aura slammed into him, Wen Ran had played dead, waiting to see how things would unfold. The fact that the old man had slapped the Vice Sect Master into submission had left him in awe. The power and authority in that moment had humbled him, and for the first time in his life, he felt genuine respect for the old man. It wasn’t just the slap—it was the fearlessness, the conviction, the willingness to protect him no matter the cost. Wen Ran felt something in him shift, and for the first time, he realized that his master wasn’t half as bad as he had initially thought.
"Get up, you old dog, and give me back what you stole..." Wen Ran’s voice grew firmer as he spoke, his gaze steady and filled with a newfound determination. His eyes locked onto the Vice Sect Master, still crumpled in the hole. Wen Ran knew the Vice Sect Master was just playing dead—someone of his level wouldn’t be knocked out so easily, especially not by the old man, who had held back a great deal of power. If the old man had wanted to, the entire wall—and more than half of the sect—would have been obliterated in that single slap.