Chapter 68: "Were You Calling Me?"

Chapter 68: "Were You Calling Me?"

"Courting death!"

Mu Feng's eyes gleamed coldly, but before he could act, Mu Kuang and Bai Ziyue had already stepped forward.

One of the drunken thugs roared and swung his blade with formidable force, the energy surrounding it enough to cleave through a water buffalo. The man was at the peak of the Meridian Connection Realm, a bottleneck many cultivators struggled to overcome without the aid of expensive pills.

Mu Kuang smirked, refusing to draw his weapon. Instead, he clenched his fist, gathering energy, and punched directly at the incoming blade.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, and some even shut their eyes, unable to watch what they assumed would be a gruesome scene of Mu Kuang's hand being split in two.

But reality defied their expectations.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking stone echoed as Mu Kuang's fist collided with the blade. A shockwave rippled outward, and the thug's hand went numb, nearly dropping his weapon. He stared in disbelief as Mu Kuang's bare fist remained unscathed.

Not giving him a chance to recover, Mu Kuang delivered another punch, this time aimed at the thug's chest.

Boom!

The man let out a pained cry as several ribs shattered under the force. He flew backward, tumbling seven or eight meters before collapsing in the snow, coughing up blood.

On the other side, Bai Ziyue faced his opponent with a sheathed sword. His movements were swift, the blade's scabbard leaving a trail of shimmering afterimages as it struck.

Clang, clang, clang!

Each strike landed precisely on the thug's weapon, shaking him to the core. With a final thrust, Bai Ziyue's scabbard slammed into the man's mouth, knocking out several teeth.

The thug howled in agony, clutching his bleeding mouth. Bai Ziyue's cold expression didn't waver as he followed up with a kick, sending his opponent sprawling several meters away.

The last thug charged at Mu Feng, blade raised high. But Mu Feng didn't flinch.

"Meridian Fist!"

With a single punch, a beam of white energy shot forth, striking the thug square in the chest.

Bang!

The man was hurled over ten meters, crashing to the ground with a pained groan. Blood spilled from his lips as he struggled to move.

Mu Feng had held back; otherwise, the blow would have been fatal.

The crowd murmured in awe.

"Purple Palace Realm! All three of them!"

"So young, yet so powerful. Which family do they belong to?"

Mu Kuang scoffed, brushing off his hands. "A bunch of worthless fools."

From the ground, the thug whose arm Mu Feng had twisted cried out in fury, "You dare attack the Yellow Tiger Gang? You're dead, kid!"

Mu Feng's brows furrowed. The name sounded familiar. Then he remembered—it was the same gang he and Mu Kuang had encountered in An Nan Ridge.

"Yellow Tiger Gang? Impressive name," Mu Feng said, his tone laced with mockery. He stepped closer, towering over the man. "Here's the deal: tell your boss to come to the Mu family and apologize to my friend. If he doesn't, in three days, there will be no Yellow Tiger Gang left in An Nan City. Now, get lost!"

His chilling tone sent shivers down the thug's spine. Scrambling to his feet, the man and his companions fled, supporting each other as they disappeared into the distance.

"Ugh, we finally get a chance to relax, and those idiots had to ruin it," Mu Lan grumbled, pouting.

"Don't worry, Lan'er," Mu Kuang said with a grin, a rare softness in his eyes. "With us around, anyone who tries to bother you will end up eating dirt."

Mu Feng chuckled. "Don't let such small matters ruin your mood. The world is full of fools not worth our time."

The group resumed their stroll, leaving behind a crowd of astonished onlookers.

Farther down the street, another commotion drew their attention. A group of young men surrounded four battered Mu family disciples, who lay sprawled on the ground, their faces swollen from a severe beating.

Among the aggressors was Wang Yue, accompanied by several other Wang family youths.

"You dare act arrogant in front of me, Mu Li? Do you think I'm afraid of Mu Feng? He's not here now, is he?" Wang Yue sneered, pressing his foot down on Mu Li's face.

"Just wait, you brat. When I join the Inscription Hall and learn inscription arts, I'll surpass Mu Feng. Then he'll know what it means to cross me!"

"Really? I'd love to hear more about your plans for me, Wang Yue," a familiar voice called out, laced with mockery.

The crowd parted as Mu Feng strolled forward, flanked by Mu Kuang, Bai Ziyue, and Mu Lan.

Wang Yue froze, his arrogant expression replaced by one of panic. He stumbled back a few steps, his voice trembling. "M-Mu Feng? What are you doing here?"

"I thought I heard you calling my name," Mu Feng said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. "So, what was it you were saying about me?"

Wang Yue swallowed hard, the confidence he had moments ago completely gone.

"You must have misheard! I—I wasn't talking about you!" he stammered, backpedaling as Mu Feng advanced.

The onlookers exchanged glances, whispering among themselves.

"Who is this young man? Even Wang Yue looks terrified of him."

"I don't know, but this is getting interesting."

Mu Feng stopped just short of Wang Yue, tilting his head. "Are you sure? You sounded so confident earlier. Go on, I'm listening."

Wang Yue's face turned as pale as the snow beneath their feet. "I swear, it was a misunderstanding!" he blurted, his voice cracking.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as one of the city's most notorious troublemakers cowered before the young Mu family prodigy.