The shout echoed loudly, shattering the once-calm atmosphere of the inn's floor into chaos.
The man had a large, solid build—not soft fat, but dense, like tempered flesh. His shoulders were broad, his chest wide, though his stomach protruded slightly—giving the impression of someone accustomed to luxury without completely abandoning training. The dark purple silk robe he wore looked expensive, adorned with fine golden embroidery that shimmered under the lantern light.
His face was round yet firm—his jaw still carried the sharp lines of a cultivator. His small eyes narrowed, radiating blatant arrogance, as if everything before him was nothing but dust.
Behind him, two inn attendants bowed deeply, their bodies trembling.
"Do you know who I am?"
The attendants didn't dare respond—they only exchanged pale looks.
One of them finally mustered the courage, his voice shaking.
"Y-Young Master… this inn… has already—"
"Already what?" the man cut in sharply.
The attendant swallowed.
"It has already been fully reserved by a guest since this morning… we don't dare accept other guests…"
The atmosphere froze instantly.
Several cultivators who had been refused entry earlier now gathered outside the inn, waiting to see what would happen.
But—Qin Hao suddenly let out a short laugh.
"Fully reserved?" he repeated, as if hearing a joke.
His gaze turned cold.
"Are you mocking me?"
The attendant immediately dropped to his knees.
"W-We wouldn't dare, Young Master! That guest… paid with high-grade spirit stones…"
Qin Hao snorted, then raised his chin high.
"I am Qin Hao, young master of the Qin Family of Tianhe City!"
The name fell like a hammer, smashing into the silence.
Several cultivators nearby held their breath. The Qin Family… almost on par with a first-tier family.
Qin Hao sneered.
"My family controls the largest spirit stone mine. Even the elders of sects give us face."
He stepped forward, his aura slowly spreading.
"Reserved or not… that doesn't apply to me."
His eyes narrowed toward the upper floor.
"Who is that young master, huh? Call him down. I want to see if he still dares to ignore me."
A thin aura began to seep out, making the air feel heavier.
"If he doesn't come out…" his smile turned cold, "…I'll make him crawl out himself."
Upstairs—footsteps sounded softly.
Yuan Feng appeared at the end of the stairs, walking down calmly, as if all this commotion had nothing to do with him.
His gaze was cold.
"…so noisy."
An attendant who saw him immediately trembled.
"S-Sir… we—"
Yuan Feng didn't look at him.
A cold pressure exploded from his body in an instant, pressing down on the entire room until breathing became heavy and the attendants' knees gave out before they could even understand what was happening.
He stepped down from the upper floor.
Then—
whoosh—
His figure vanished.
No one saw it clearly.
Qin Hao's body was suddenly lifted off the ground, as if struck by something invisible. In an instant, he was sent flying backward, crashing through tables and chairs into splinters before being thrown out of the inn.
BOOM!
Dust scattered outside. Several watching cultivators instinctively retreated, their faces turning pale.
Qin Hao hit the ground hard, his body rolling several meters before finally stopping. His chest felt tight, blood rising to his throat, but before he could even process it—
Yuan Feng was already standing in front of him.
Calm.
As if the distance earlier had never existed.
Qin Hao froze.
'Peak Foundation Establishment'
His instincts screamed.
This wasn't a fight.
This… was an execution.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move. The energy within his body began to surge wildly as he tried to attack—
But before he could even raise his hand—
duk!
The second strike came.
Qin Hao's body was sent flying again, this time even harder. His back slammed into the ground, the air leaving his lungs in one burst.
Qin Hao's vision shook.
The world spun.
Yuan Feng's figure appeared before him again.
Qin Hao didn't move.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because he couldn't.
For the first time in his life—he felt how thin the line between life and death was.
'This… is my end…'
His thoughts trembled.
But—what came next did not match his expectations.
Yuan Feng suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
Then hugged him.
Qin Hao's body instantly stiffened.
His mind went blank.
Yuan Feng's voice sounded close to his ear, casual… even light.
"Brother Hao, long time no see," he said, as if nothing had happened,
Silence.
The entire crowd outside the inn fell quiet.
Some even began to doubt their own eyes.
Just now… he almost killed him, didn't he?
Yuan Feng had already released him, his expression returning to indifference as if none of it had happened.
"You two."
The two attendants who had been trembling snapped back to their senses, hurriedly running over before dropping to their knees.
"S-Sir!"
Yuan Feng's gaze lowered toward them, cold.
"You don't even recognize my guest?"
"We… we were wrong, Sir…!" their voices shook.
Yuan Feng let out a soft breath, clearly displeased.
"I already reserved this entire inn for my friends who will attend the Divine Cloud Sect examination." He glanced briefly at Qin Hao.
"And yet you blocked them outside?"
The two attendants immediately lowered their heads until their foreheads nearly touched the ground.
"We didn't know, Sir! We won't dare again—we beg for forgiveness!"
One of them, with a trembling voice, finally said:
"We will fix everything, Sir Yuan Feng… please spare us!"
Those words fell into the air—and instantly changed everything.
Several cultivators standing outside suddenly froze.
"Yuan…?" someone whispered.
The faces that had once been merely curious now turned pale.
The Yuan Family.
One of the five pillar families of the Empire.
An existence even other first-tier families had to respect.
Several people's gazes changed immediately.
No longer just cautious—but fearful.
Meanwhile, Yuan Feng didn't care at all.
He simply waved his hand lightly.
"Clean this place up." His tone returned to casual, as if nothing had happened earlier.
Then he turned to Qin Hao, the corner of his lips lifting slightly.
"Brother Hao," he said lightly, "you came too early."
He stepped closer, this time without any pressure. Yuan Feng raised his hand and lightly patted Qin Hao's shoulder—a relaxed gesture, almost friendly.
"Forgive my earlier welcome," he continued, his tone still calm. "I didn't expect it to be you."
Qin Hao remained silent for a moment.
His body was no longer under pressure, but the lingering sensation from earlier had not completely faded. Still, he wasn't a fool—he immediately caught the shift in Yuan Feng's attitude.
He took a deep breath, then let out a stiff laugh.
"Haha… so it really is you, Yuan Feng. Long time no see."
Yuan Feng gave a slight nod.
"Come inside. I'll treat you to some wine as an apology."
Qin Hao paused for a moment, then chuckled lightly.
"In that case, I won't refuse."
The two of them walked back into the inn. The attendants, upon seeing them, immediately moved faster, preparing the best table without needing to be told twice.
Before long, two jars of high-quality wine were placed on the table, along with several simple yet neatly presented dishes.
Yuan Feng sat down first, then poured wine into two cups.
"Wine from the southern region," he said briefly. "The taste is quite clean."
Qin Hao lifted his cup, sniffing the aroma for a moment before smiling.
"You still have good taste."
They raised their cups.
Clink.
One sip.
The atmosphere became far more relaxed compared to just moments ago.
Qin Hao leaned back, looking at Yuan Feng with curiosity about his true intentions.
"I heard the Qin Family produces the best wine every year. I don't know if this is enough to satisfy Young Master Qin's taste."
Qin Hao paused for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"At least you know how to treat a guest."
He took a sip of the wine, then nodded slightly.
"Not bad."
Yuan Feng didn't say much, only pouring more wine with a calm motion.
A few seconds of silence. Then—Qin Hao finally spoke again.
"So," he said casually, "what exactly does the young master of the Yuan Family want from me?"
Yuan Feng fell silent for a moment, looking at his status screen.
[Demonic: 72]
He didn't know the cause, but suddenly a thick surge of anger and hatred rose within him, as if trying to take control. After struggling to suppress it and regain clarity, he finally realized that his Demonic points had increased.
"Nothing," he answered calmly. "If I truly wanted something from you… you wouldn't be sitting here comfortably."
Qin Hao fell silent, then smirked.
"An honest answer."
"Consider this a coincidence," Yuan Feng continued. "You came, I didn't drive you away. That's enough."
Qin Hao nodded slowly.
"So no business?"
"For now, none."
Qin Hao chuckled.
"Good. I don't like complicated matters either."
"In that case, let's just drink."
"Agreed."
Without further words, they began drinking together.
At first, it was just the two of them, but as time passed, several cultivators who had been hesitant earlier slowly entered the room. Seeing that there was no longer any tension, they sat down as well—some keeping their distance, others bold enough to join the same table.
Jar after jar was opened.
The atmosphere gradually warmed.
Qin Hao began talking more, occasionally throwing out rough jokes that, strangely, didn't feel offensive. Yuan Feng didn't respond much, but he didn't stop the flow of conversation either—occasionally replying briefly, just enough to keep things alive.
Without realizing it, the rigid boundaries from earlier slowly faded.
That day, the inn that had once been quiet turned into a gathering place—filled with the sound of clinking cups and laughter that was no longer restrained.