After their deep kiss, Liu Shi Qin regained clarity and pushed Lan An away.

  Her face flushed like a ripe apple — breathtakingly alluring.

  “Your lips are divine soft… and sweet,” Lan An teased, licking his lips.

  “You! Not again!” Liu Shi Qin stomped, heart racing.

  “As you wish, my lady!” Lan An saluted playfully.

  She huffed, then forced herself back to business.

  “The Ice Moon Night Wind Scripture is incredible. Even a fraction mastered — the effects are astonishing!”

  Lan An noticed the near–Spirit Transformation aura swirling around her and smiled.

  “It’s made for you. That crescent mark looks stunning.”

  “Really?” She touched her forehead — the mark that boosted her Ice Spirit Energy absorption since mastering part of the scripture.

  “Ji Bing Ying’s awake, cultivating in seclusion. Let’s go.”

  Lan An grasped her warm hand.

  “What’re you doing? Don’t tell them!” she panicked, pulling back.

  “Relax. I’ll give you time,” he said softly, still thrilled by the kiss.

  With a thought, they vanished.

  Above Ping An City, Mu Zi Yin faced the Third Elder — wary of his jade pendant.

  “Let us leave, or I’ll unleash Han Du’s full Spirit Transformation strike! It’ll level the Liu Clan!” he threatened, clutching his trump card — a gift from Han Shen’s father.

  “No! They must die, and Liu Clan with them!” Han Shen shrieked, consumed by vengeance.

  Han Se and Han Geng eyed Li Zhu Luan and Bai Su Mei warily, afraid of betrayal.

  The Third Elder cursed her stupidity — a full strike could kill them too, and Mu Zi Yin’s Heaven-Grade Purple Wood Sword might counter it. Escape was his priority, but Han Shen’s bloodlust risked it all.

  Mu Zi Yin’s eyes flashed with killing intent.

  Letting the vengeful Han Clan escape was like releasing tigers into the wild.

  Yet, Liu Clan’s safety restrained her hand.

  Just as tension peaked, space rippled beside her — startling the Third Elder.

  Mu Zi Yin smiled.

  “Husband. Little Aunt!”

  Lan An and Liu Shi Qin appeared — he, dashing with Little Lion perched on his shoulder; she, regal like a fairy descending from the moon.

  “Husband!” Bai Su Mei and Li Zhu Luan brightened instantly.

  Han Se and Han Geng glared at Lan An, jealousy burning hotter than fear.

  “That’s it! Give it to me!” Han Shen demanded, eyes locking on Little Lion.

  Lan An wrapped an arm around Mu Zi Yin’s waist.

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  “Wife, what’s this about?”

  She briefed him through spiritual transmission.

  Lan An’s silver eyes grew calm — too calm — while his Spirit Energy surged like a rising storm.

  “Han Clan again?” he growled.

  He remembered Han Qing’s ambush over Hong Lian and Die Qing.

  Now they dared target Little Lion and threaten the Liu Clan itself.

  Without his women, what would’ve become of Liu Shi Qin’s family?

  Fury rose within him. Lan An vowed the Han Clan would suffer worse than Qing Yun Sect.

  Liu Shi Qin, equally enraged, descended to join Bai Su Mei and Li Zhu Luan.

  “Old man, a Spirit Transformation strike makes you bold?” Lan An mocked the Third Elder.

  “Let us go, and we’ll forget this!” the elder gritted out, his severed arm throbbing, unease gnawing.

  Lan An’s youth unsettled him.

  How could women at Spirit Transformation serve a mere Nascent Soul cultivator?

  Little Lion’s predatory gaze chilled him to the bone.

  Han Shen sensed the shift. His confidence drained.

  Lan An was the storm now — and they were caught in it.

  “Poser!” Han Geng spat, consumed by jealousy at the sight of Lan An’s women’s devotion.

  “Die!”

  Bai Su Mei, Li Zhu Luan, and Liu Shi Qin attacked as one.

  “Idiot!” Han Se cursed, dragging Han Shen away and abandoning Han Geng to his fate.

  Against three superior foes, Han Geng stood no chance.

  His body shattered midair, his head rolling to the ground, regret frozen in his dying eyes.

  He had gambled on the elder’s trump card — and lost.

  “You killed a Han Clan member!?” Han Shen stammered in horror.

  “Weaklings causing trouble,” Li Zhu Luan sneered, remembering Han Geng’s repeated provocations.

  Han Se’s fists bled, rage and envy boiling inside.

  Why did Lan An command such loyalty… such love?

  The Third Elder paled.

  The Purple Wood Sword’s Deep Wound effect drained his blood like a curse.

  Desperate, he raised the pendant.

  “Leave, or we all die!”

  Lan An’s eyes narrowed.

  “Little Lion.”

  A flash of violet lightning — and in an instant, the pendant was gone.

  “How!? A lightning beast!?” the Third Elder screamed, his hand paralyzed.

  “Well done.” Lan An patted Little Lion, and the women cheered.

  “Chirp!” Little Lion preened, clearly preferring its petite form.

  “Any more tricks?” Lan An taunted, holding up the pendant.

  The elder’s pride shattered.

  He bowed deeply, voice trembling.

  “We were blind to Mount Tai. Spare us, and the Han Clan will remember your mercy!”

  He emphasized Han Clan, hoping the name alone would deter them.

  “Han Clan? Stronger than Qing Yun Sect?” Lan An smirked.

  The group froze — dread dawning.

  Qing Yun Sect had fallen, erased from existence.

  Han Clan, weaker and lacking a Refining Void elder, relied on just two Supreme Earth-Grade treasures.

  Could Qing Yun Sect’s destruction… have been his doing?

  Lan An summoned Qing Yun Sword. The truth was clear.

  “No! You can’t kill me — I’m Han Clan’s top genius!” Han Se screamed.

  “Pathetic.”

  Liu Shi Qin’s eyes turned pitch-black, her hair dancing in an unseen wind.

  A wave of shadow swept forward.

  “Ice Mystic Armor!” Han Se roared, encasing himself in ice.

  SCREEECH—

  The black wind devoured all.

  When it faded, only ash remained.

  Liu Shi Qin’s near–Spirit Transformation power, the Night Wind Scripture, had annihilated a Mid Nascent Soul genius.

  Even Lan An was momentarily stunned.

  Mu Zi Yin pinched his side. “What grade is Little Aunt’s scripture?” she muttered, half-jealous.

  “You’ll all get yours,” Lan An promised.

  “Damn you!” the Third Elder howled, eyes bloodshot.

  Guilt turned to desperation — his body swelling to self-destruct.

  “Butterfly Slash!”

  Mu Zi Yin danced forward — her blade flashed — and his head fell.

  Silence.

  The battle was over.

  Ping An City’s onlookers were silenced by the Liu Clan and Yue Clan’s dominance.

  From this day forward, none dared provoke them again.

  “Don’t kill me!” Han Shen begged as Lan An approached.

  “Give your Origin Soul.”

  “Yes!” she cried, relief flooding her as she complied.

  “Return to Han Clan. Tell them Third Elder and the others died at the hands of Heavenly Wood Sect.”

  Lan An’s tone left no room for refusal.

  “Yes, Master!” Han Shen kowtowed, desperate to live.

  “Do well, and Han Clan’s throne will be yours.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Thank you, Master!”

  She fled, her Perfect Golden Core ensuring she could return safely.

  Li Zhu Luan smiled, watching her go.

  “Pawns in Nan Gong Clan and now Han Clan… Two Seventh-Grade powers under your thumb, Husband.”

  Lan An simply smiled — a storm still lingering behind his calm eyes.