Chapter Twenty-Five: Striking It Rich

After finally breaking through, Chu Han stepped out of his room. Qin Shuang, who had waited for so long, had fallen asleep at the doorway. Seeing her like this, Chu Han felt moved. Although he was her savior, Qin Shuang’s willingness to wait for him showed she had repaid his kindness in full. Gently, he picked her up and carried her into her room, laying her softly on the bed before leaving.

At this moment, Chu Han’s foundation was solid, far stronger than in his previous life, and his body had reached a terrifying level of strength. Such a firm foundation would allow him to return to his former peak and even surpass the limits he had once faced.

The night passed uneventfully.

Early the next morning, Chu Han climbed out of bed. When he met the villagers of the Qin family again, their gazes were filled with awe and reverence, and they spoke to him with extreme caution. Seeing this, Chu Han shook his head helplessly.

After all, he had demonstrated his power before them; to these ordinary people, he was little less than a deity. Hoping they would not revere him was simply impossible.

The villagers were just beginning their daily work when, suddenly, a group of more than twenty people appeared at the village entrance. Each wore golden robes, identical to those worn by the visitors from the other day.

“Elder, this is the place. The last traces of my junior brothers’ presence vanished here,” one of them spoke softly. An old man beside him nodded and stepped forward.

“Have you seen my disciples? They wear the same clothes as us,” the old man asked, his eyes cold. Though he suspected his disciples had met misfortune, he did not act rashly.

Qin Zheng immediately recognized their identity—they were from the Nine Dragons Pavilion. The men from the other day had already died, so it seemed today’s trouble would not be easily resolved.

The villagers fell silent, not daring to speak. The old man grew impatient and was about to speak again when a young man appeared before him.

“Who are you?” Chu Han asked, his brows furrowed. In his previous life, he had dealings with the Nine Dragons Pavilion but had never seen this elder before. He couldn’t help but ask.

The men from the Nine Dragons Pavilion had been killed by him; he could not let the Qin family village bear the consequences. He was surprised they had managed to track him here—it showed some skill.

“I am Chen Fan, outer elder of the Nine Dragons Pavilion. I have come to find traces of my disciples, whose presence disappeared here. If you do not hand them over today, I will raze this place to the ground,” the old man declared arrogantly, his eyes filled with disdain and a mocking smile at the corners of his mouth, clearly dismissing those before him.

Chu Han nodded. So it was only an outer elder; no wonder he hadn’t met him before. When Chu Han had dealt with the Nine Dragons Pavilion, it was always with the higher-ups; an outer elder had never had the privilege.

He could also discern Chen Fan’s power—he was a master at the Spring of Divine Sea realm, but judging by his aura, he had only just broken through and was still unstable.

“There’s no need to search further. Your useless disciples have already been killed by me. You may leave now,” Chu Han replied. His words left the men of the Nine Dragons Pavilion both shocked and furious. They had already known their comrades were dead, but hearing Chu Han admit it openly enraged them further.

Seeing Chu Han’s arrogant demeanor was unbearable. One disciple, his sword drawn, charged at Chu Han, thrusting it forward.

Chu Han smiled faintly, struck the sword with his fist. The disciple, seeing Chu Han’s action, was elated—who but a fool would block a sword with bare hands?

But the expected outcome did not occur. Chu Han’s fist was unscathed while the sword snapped in two; his punch landed squarely on the disciple’s chest.

The disciple’s chest collapsed, he was sent flying, spewing blood, and died on the spot.

“You… how dare you attack a member of the Nine Dragons Pavilion! You must die today!” Chen Fan shouted, both shocked and enraged. He had thought Chu Han possessed no cultivation, but now realized Chu Han had merely played the fool, hiding his true strength.

The fallen disciple had the power of the seventh level of body refinement, yet could not withstand a single punch from Chu Han. Clearly, Chu Han possessed at least the strength of the ninth level.

Chen Fan then strode forward, true energy swirling around him, forcing the others aside. A long staff appeared in his hand, which he swung down at Chu Han.

Chu Han waved at Qin Zheng, who understood and quickly organized the villagers to retreat. At that moment, the staff reached Chu Han.

Chu Han did not dodge. He extended his right hand and caught the staff. True energy surged from the staff, creating a whirlwind of dust around them.

Yet Chu Han remained motionless, as if nothing had happened. Chen Fan tried to wrench the staff free, but Chu Han’s grip was like a vice, immovable.

Chen Fan’s face flushed red with effort, but he could not retrieve his staff. He abandoned it, spun behind Chu Han, and swung his fist.

Chu Han, as if he had eyes on his back, raised his right leg the moment Chen Fan appeared behind him and kicked backward.

Electricity crackled on his leg, the sound making everyone’s scalp tingle. His kick struck Chen Fan’s chest.

With a scream, Chen Fan was sent flying, his chest bones shattered, blood spraying from his mouth. The lightning embedded in the kick wrapped around Chen Fan, leaving him paralyzed.

The disciples of the Nine Dragons Pavilion were stunned. All were outer disciples, and Chen Fan was the strongest elder among them, yet he had lasted only two exchanges with Chu Han. Chu Han’s strength terrified them.

Chu Han ignored the trembling disciples, walking straight to Chen Fan with a wicked, chilling smile.

“Don’t kill me! I’ll do anything you want, please, spare me,” Chen Fan pleaded, sobbing in terror. He knew Chu Han could kill him as easily as crushing an ant.

Once a distinguished elder of the Nine Dragons Pavilion, he was now utterly disgraced; but to survive, he could only beg and grovel, a pitiful sight.

“Sorry, but since you’ve already attacked, I can’t let you live. You may die now,” Chu Han replied, his face fierce. He raised his fist and struck, ending Chen Fan’s life.

Seeing this, the remaining disciples scattered in terror. They were nothing but rabble; Chu Han did not pursue them. His attention turned to the ring Chen Fan wore—a storage ring, if he was not mistaken.

He took the ring, erased Chen Fan’s mark, and infused his own energy to examine its contents.

He could not help but laugh aloud. Inside were countless precious items, many of which he needed at that very moment. This time, he had truly struck it rich.