The atmosphere near the mountain road was thick with the scent of upturned earth and the lingering tension of a one-sided slaughter. Just as Mu Chen and his sister, Xiaoyu, were conversing in hushed tones—the crowd parted like a sea before a storm.
A new figure squeezed through the dense circle of spectators, his presence immediately shifting the weight of the air.
The newcomer was a young man who appeared to be about twenty years old. He was dressed in pristine white robes that fluttered slightly despite the lack of a breeze, his features handsome and etched with a practiced sort of noble arrogance.
He moved with the calculated grace of someone who knew he was being watched, and his gaze immediately fell upon the pathetic pile of groaning lackeys. With a flick of his wrist, he reached down and easily hoisted Mu Shan, who was still face-down in the dirt, onto his shoulder as if the boy weighed nothing more than a sack of grain.
"Young Lord! You're finally here!" Mu Shan's voice cracked with a mixture of relief and newfound bravado the moment he realized who had rescued him.
His face, smeared with dust and tears, twisted into a mask of pathetic indignation as he pointed a trembling finger at Mu Chen. "I failed, Young Lord, but now that you're here, Mu Chen has nowhere to run! Beat him! Teach him a lesson he'll never forget!"
The young man in white, Mu Long, didn't immediately look at Mu Chen. Instead, he let out a sharp, cold snort of derision. "Hmph. I'll teach you a lesson myself when we get back for being so incompetent. Now, shut up and stand behind me."
Although the wretched state of his followers clearly infuriated him, Mu Long was a man who valued his image above all else. Even in his anger, he maintained the poised, "Young Lord" persona that the family expected of its geniuses.
He set Mu Shan down with a rough shove and finally turned his cold, calculating eyes toward the siblings.
"Mu Chen," Mu Long began, his voice dripping with condescension. "So, you finally decided to crawl out from your rat hole. I truly thought you intended to spend the rest of your life hiding behind your sister's skirts. Look at the mess you've made. Apologize to my people right now, and perhaps I can pretend this little farce never happened."
Mu Long's cold smile was meant to be intimidating, but to Mu Chen, it was merely an annoying distraction from his peaceful day.
Mu Chen didn't even flinch. He sized Mu Long up for a moment, his gaze roaming over the white robes and the arrogant posture as if he were inspecting a particularly stubborn insect.
"It looks like you are really asking for a beating again." Mu Chen replied, his voice calm and entirely unimpressed.
Mu Chen's blunt reprimand, delivered with the casualness of a teacher scolding a toddler, caused Xiaoyu to burst into a fit of uncontrolled giggles. She clapped her hands together, her bright eyes dancing with mischief as she watched Mu Long's face undergo a spectacular transformation.
Mu Long's complexion turned a ghostly pale before flushing a deep, violent red. To be humiliated in such a manner, especially in front of the surrounding crowd and the beautiful Xiaoyu, was more than his pride could bear. The shame fuelled a volcanic anger within him.
"Mu Chen! How dare you!" Mu Long roared. "It is not too late to beg for mercy! If you won't apologize willingly, I will beat you until you do it forcefully!"
In a fit of rage, Mu Long ceased his posturing and released the full extent of his spiritual pressure.
A sudden, heavy weight slammed into the surroundings. The air seemed to solidify, making it difficult for the nearby disciples to draw breath. Those standing too close were physically thrown back by the invisible shockwave of energy. The ground beneath Mu Long's feet began to groan and spiderweb with cracks, and a localized wind stirred, whipping his white robes into a frenzy.
"Ah! Look! Such powerful pressure!" a spectator cried out, shielding his eyes. "That's the Foundation Realm! Mu Long actually reached the early stage of the Foundation Realm in just twenty years? That talent is terrifying!"
"I heard he was only at the peak of Qi Gathering last year," another whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I didn't expect him to break through so quickly. To form a Dantian core at twenty... he's a true genius."
"Yes, with that kind of cultivation speed, Mu Chen is in serious trouble," a third added, shaking his head. "Everyone knows Mu Chen is just a lazy guy who doesn't even practice. He spends all day eating and sleeping while Mu Long cultivate so diligently. What a waste of talent Mu Chen is."
The sudden display of power drew immediate shouts and cheers from the Mu family disciples. In the cultivation world reaching the Foundation Realm was a significant milestone.
It marked the moment a cultivator truly steps into Immortal path, at this stage one could form a Dantian core, allowing them to gather, store, and control spiritual Qi with a precision and volume that made a Qi Gathering practitioner look like a child playing with a toy. The jump in power wasn't just a step; it was a leap.
The praise from the crowd acted like fuel to Mu Long's smugness. His successful breakthrough was the primary reason he felt so confident this time. He was certain that a "lazy" guy like Mu Chen could never keep up with his pace. In his mind, Mu Chen was likely still struggling in the mid-stages of Qi Gathering.
Mu Long arrogantly raised his chin, looking down his nose at Mu Chen. "Mu Chen, I was speaking for your own benefit. If you had apologized, I might have let you off the hook. But it looks like you're the type who won't shed a tear until you see your own coffin!"
Mu Long's smile turned predatory. With a sudden burst of speed, he raised his foot and seemed to blur, appearing directly in front of Mu Chen in the blink of an eye. He clenched his fist, wrapping a thick layer of visible spiritual Qi around it.
The air hissed as he threw a heavy punch toward Mu Chen's chest. He intended to end the fight in a single strike, severing Mu Chen's internal pathways and establishing his absolute authority once and for all.
The crowd gasped, some even closing their eyes to avoid seeing the "lazy" youth get pulverized. But the sound of impact wasn't a dull thud. It was a sharp, sudden clap.
To everyone's horror, Mu Chen hadn't been sent flying. Instead, he had simply extended a casual hand. His fingers were locked firmly around Mu Long's wrist, stopping the Foundation Realm punch as if it were a slow-moving feather. Mu Chen didn't even look stressed; he looked bored.
Before Mu Long could even process the shock, Mu Chen gave his wrist a sharp flick. He didn't just let go—he threw Mu Long like a discarded toy.
Boom!
Mu Long whistled through the air, his white robes a blur of movement as he was thrown backward. He struck a massive, ancient tree fifty meters away with the force of a battering ram.
The tree, thick enough that three men couldn't encircle it, groaned and crumbled into a cloud of splinters and dust. Mu Long hit the ground hard, rolling several times like a rag doll before finally coming to a rest in the dirt. A metallic sweetness filled his mouth, but he swallowed the blood forcefully, refusing to show weakness.
A deathly silence fell over the mountain road.
People literally forgot to breathe. They stood frozen, their eyes wide and glazed as they tried to process what they had just seen. It was as if they had collectively laid eyes on a ghost.
After what felt like an eternity, Mu Qiang—the chubby boy who had brought Mu Chen to the scene—spoke in a trembling, high-pitched voice. "Mu Chen... you... are you also in the Foundation Realm?"
As if someone had flipped a switch, the crowd erupted into a chaotic murmur.
"Is Mu Chen also a Foundation Realm expert? No way! A sixteen-year-old Foundation Realm? That's unheard of in our branch!"
"Wasn't everyone saying he's a lazy guy who just sleeps all day? How could he have cultivated so fast?"
"Wait, I understand!" one disciple shouted, his eyes lighting up with the "logic" of a spectator. "He must be practicing secretly at night! He sleeps all day so he can spend the entire night cultivating in the shadows!"
"Ah, I see! That must be the case!" others chimed in, nodding sagely. "It makes perfect sense now. His cultivation speed... it's comparable to the geniuses of the major clans in the capital!"
Mu Chen didn't bother to comment on their theories. To him, the concept of cultivation realms was entirely irrelevant.
Mu Long slowly climbed to his feet, his white robes now stained with brown earth and green grass. He wiped a thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
"Mu Chen! It looks like I underestimated you! But this time... this time I am going to finish you!"
Mu Long was still convinced that his earlier failure was a fluke. He believed he had lost only because he was mentally prepared to fight a Qi Gathering opponent and hadn't been alert for a Foundation-level retaliation. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Mu Long began to move his hands in a complex series of seals, channelling every drop of spiritual energy in his Dantian. A wild, oppressive pressure spread out from him, far more violent than before. In a fifty-meter radius, the grass was flattened, rocks were crushed into pebbles, and the air hummed with power.
Behind him, the spiritual Qi began to coalesce, forming the translucent, golden phantom of a massive, roaring lion.
"Look! It's a Yellow Rank Skill!" a disciple shouted. "The Lion's Roar Phantom! It looks like Mu Long has reached the minor completion stage in it!"
Once a cultivator reached the Foundation Realm, they could begin to utilize true techniques. These skills were categorized into four ranks: Yellow, Mysterious, Earth, and Heaven. For a branch family member to master a Yellow Rank skill to minor completion was an impressive feat.
"Mu Chen!" Mu Long barked, his voice amplified by his Qi. "Now I will show you the true gap between a genius and a fluke!"
With a roar that shook the very leaves on the trees, the lion phantom pounced. It crossed the distance between the two youths in the blink of an eye, its sonic roar destroying everything in its path. The phantom's claws slashed down at Mu Chen's head with enough force to split a boulder.
And then—Pah!
The sound was small, almost comical. Those who were waiting for Mu Chen to summon a grand technique or an ancestral shield watched in frozen bewilderment as Mu Chen simply raised his hand and slapped the phantom as if he were swatting a persistent fly.
The massive, golden lion whimpered like a kicked kitten. Its form flickered, cracked, and then simply dissipated into harmless sparkles of light.
Mu Long felt the world slide out from under him. Before he could even utter a single word of disbelief, he realized Mu Chen was no longer standing twenty feet away. Mu Chen hadn't even appeared to move or teleport; he was just there, standing right in front of Mu Long.
Mu Chen didn't use a technique. He didn't use a skill. He simply delivered a sharp, backhanded slap to Mu Long's face.
Crack!
Mu Long's head snapped to the side. Several white teeth flew into the air, accompanied by a fine spray of blood. He spun like a top before rolling across the ground once more, coming to a stop like a discarded rug.
Mu Chen looked down at the shivering, semi-conscious form of his cousin and sighed. "You really were looking for a beating."
"Stop it! All of you! Mu Long, you've already reached the foundation realm, how dare you bully little brother Mu Chen."
A sharp, authoritative shout rang out, vibrating with genuine anger. A slender young woman strode into the clearing, her red robes making her look like a flickering flame against the green forest.
She appeared to be about twenty-two years old, quite pretty, with a brown ponytail that hung down to her waist. Her raised eyebrows and sharp gaze revealed a heroic spirit that commanded respect from every man present.
"Brother Mu Chen! Sister Mu Xia is here!" Xiaoyu called out.
Mu Xia, who had arrived with the full intent of scolding Mu Long, came to a dead halt. She stared blankly at the scene before her. Mu Long was lying in the dirt, his face swollen, his front teeth missing, and his white robes ruined. He looked like a beggar who had been trampled by a horse. There wasn't a single trace of the "Young Lord's" arrogance or majesty left in him.
This scene was the complete opposite of what she had imagined. In her mind, she was supposed to be saving the "weaker" Mu Chen from the "Foundation Realm" Mu Long.
Mu Xia's arrival and the look of sheer, open-mouthed astonishment on her face were the ultimate insults to Mu Long's pride. He didn't want to stay for another second. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring his missing teeth and his followers, and fled into the forest as fast as his legs could carry him.
"Hey! Mu Long! Wait a minute! Explain yourself!" Mu Xia called out, waving her hand, but the white-robed brother vanished in the blink of an eye.
Confused, Mu Xia grabbed a nearby clan member by the collar. "You! Tell me the whole story of what happened here today. I want every detail!"
After listening to the stuttered explanations of the spectators, Mu Xia's eyes widened. She turned her gaze toward Mu Chen, walking over and immediately reaching out to tweak his ear.
"Little brother Mu Chen!" she demanded, her voice a mix of shock and playful interrogation. "Since when did you get so strong? How long have you been hiding this? Tell me!"
Mu Chen winced, his head tilting with the tug on his ear. "Sister, please... leave my ear alone. It hurts. Why is everyone in this family always after my cheeks, my nose, or my ears?"
He let out a long, weary sigh. It seemed that no matter how much he grew or how many "geniuses" he slapped into the dirt, he would never escape the terrifying affection of his family. What a troublesome life indeed.