Ruthlessness
922 Words
"Fellow Daoist Chu," the tall, thin man spoke.
Hearing this, Chu Ran lifted his gaze, looking at him coldly. "What is your advice?"
The tall man's gaze was deep and dark, fixed intently on Chu Ran. His complexion was pale, his cheeks gaunt and lacking color. His entire person seemed shrouded in gloom, as if he had grown up in a world perpetually veiled in shadow, untouched by sunlight.
He was not a likable individual. Upon closer inspection, his features were actually quite handsome: striking facial features, a well-defined profile, with deep-set eyes and prominent brows. Unlike the refined handsomeness typical of Central Continent men, his handsomeness carried a rugged, foreign beauty.
In fact, his appearance alone revealed he was not from Central Continent. Nor was he a pure-blooded Western Shaman-Barbarian. He was a mixed-blood.
In this era, the various races were opposed, fighting and even hating one another. Mixed-blood individuals were extremely awkward existences, accepted by neither side. This was especially true among the Western Shaman-Barbarians, a race that worshipped the Witch God, revered bloodline, and took pride in being descendants of Pangu. A mixed-blood there probably lived a life worse than a dog's.
Chu Ran looked at him coldly, recalling the green patterns he had glimpsed earlier on the back of the man's hand, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
For a mixed-blood to have learned shamanic arts and achieved a not-low status within the shaman tribe, this man's origins, innate talent, and abilities were undoubtedly extraordinary.
If nothing was amiss, a shaman cultivator could never leave their tribe for life. The fact that this tall, thin man had come here covertly to seek entry into the Shangqing Sect pointed clearly to one answer: he had likely defected. And for a shaman cultivator of some standing within his tribe to defect, the reasons behind it were probably significant.
In that brief instant, countless thoughts flashed through Chu Ran's mind.
"My companion has offended you greatly. I apologize on his behalf once more and ask Fellow Daoist Chu to be magnanimous and let him go," the tall man said, adopting a humble posture.
Chu Ran stood to the side, looking at him coldly.
His voice was clear and carried a chill. "If I let him go just because you said so, wouldn't that be too damaging to my face?"
Hearing this, the tall man looked at him and asked, "Then, according to Fellow Daoist Chu, how should this matter be resolved?"
"Simple," Chu Ran said, his handsome face expressionless, his tone casual. "He just tried to punch me. I am displeased."
Upon hearing this, the tall man was momentarily stunned. He had probably never met someone so blunt about stating their displeasure. Throughout history and to the present day, cultivators were mostly reserved and indirect. Even if displeased, they wouldn't show it openly, much less state it plainly.
Chu Ran, this*** boy, was truly an eye-opener for the crowd.
The young cultivators gathered at the foot of Shangqing Mountain, having come from all corners of the land, all watched Chu Ran with keen interest and lively curiosity.
What would he say next?
Would he demand the burly man kneel, kowtow, and beg for mercy? Or force him to call him "grandfather" and apologize, maybe even bark like a dog?
The imaginations of cultivators could be wildly creative...
It was no wonder they thought this way. Chu Ran's initial impression was one of arrogance, immense arrogance. And he was clearly hiding his true strength, possessing the capital to be arrogant. So, doing something humiliating like this wouldn't be strange at all, especially since Chu Ran was blatantly showing an unwillingness to let the matter rest.
The tall man, stunned for a moment, quickly regained his composure. He looked at Chu Ran, his tone tinged with entreaty. "I ask the Fellow Daoist to show leniency."
"He did not intentionally target you," the tall man said, glancing at the burly man who was immobilized by Chu Ran's grip, unable to retract his fist, his face flushed red and drenched in sweat. Seizing the moment, he continued, "I am willing to bear the consequences on his behalf."
"Don't beg him!" the burly man shouted upon hearing this. "Ah Zhen, don't beg him! I'd rather die today than let him humiliate me!"
With that, he turned and yelled at Chu Ran, "Pretty boy! Dead rabbit! Don't let me get a chance, or I'll screw you to death!"
His face was**, thick** gathered between his brows.
His swearing voice was coarse and booming, as if it could shake the ground.
He looked like a starving wolf ready to pounce at any moment and tear Chu Ran apart with crazed bites.
Hearing this, Chu Ran glared at him coldly. "Shut up!"
"If you say one more word, do you believe I'll rip your tongue out?" Chu Ran's voice was icy, devoid of** or any extra emotion, yet it sent chills down the spines of those who heard it, a cold dread rising within them.
His expressionless manner of delivering such a threat was truly frightening.
No one present doubted the credibility of his words because—
The indifference in this young man's eyes, his view of all life as insignificant, was so clear and utterly unconcealed.
This was someone without sentiment in his heart.
Without sentiment, there was no room for mercy.
Killing, to him, was no different from trampling a blade of grass or plucking a flower.
- Writer
