Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 98 Bringing Your Wife and Children Home
The cold wind suddenly intensified.

Shen Yan looked up in a disheveled state and saw the tall figure blocking his way. His eyes filled with tears of blood, and his throat tightened with emotion.

"Chu...Ning?"

Her voice trembled slightly, as if in a dream.

Finally, someone in the crowd reacted and exclaimed in a low voice:
"Wait, isn't that person... isn't that Chu Ning, who took on 190 challenges on the Qingyun Arena?"

"I remember him, it was him. That madman who won over a hundred games in a row and was listed as a kill target by all the major sects."

"He has now won 121 games in a row."

The news spread like wildfire, and in an instant, the atmosphere around us was like oil being poured on a flame, quickly boiling over.

Some looked on with awe, while others bowed their heads in fear.

Someone else said in a trembling voice:

"No, he has a new title now."

"He is... Thunder Blade Lord."

"Thunder Blade Lord!"

The four words resounded like thunder in everyone's ears.

The scarred man's face turned deathly pale, his body stiffened like a stone, his pupils contracted sharply, his breathing stopped, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

"Lei... Lei Ji Dao Jun?"

He stammered, his voice dry and filled with uncontrollable fear.

Upon hearing these four words, the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect around them all turned ashen-faced, instinctively taking a step back, their eyes filled with fear and retreat.

This is a madman who can kill even an eighth-rank martial artist with a single strike!

Just as the atmosphere reached its most tense point, the scarred man suddenly gritted his teeth and roared viciously:
"No... I don't believe it! He's just a teenager."

"It's all a rumor! It's all fake!"

"If he really had that kind of skill, why would he be wandering the streets?"

"Charge! All of you, charge! Cut him down!"

He roared hoarsely, his eyes flashing with madness and resentment.

The disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect looked at each other, their steps stiff, and none of them dared to move.

Everyone knows that if they dare to take that step today, their fate will be even worse than that of the scarred man.

The atmosphere was deathly still; even the sound of the wind seemed dull.

Chu Ning, with an indifferent expression, gently helped Shen Yan up.

He brushed the dust off his shoulder, his voice gentle and steady:
"How did you get into such a mess?"

Shen Yan gritted his teeth, his eyes reddening, wanting to explain, but due to the severity of his injuries and the surging of his blood, he could only shake his head weakly.

Chu Ning's gaze, however, had already returned to the scarred man who was now furious.

"Go to hell——"

The scarred man finally broke down, roaring as he charged forward with his knife. The blade flashed like blood, carrying his rage as it tore through the air, aiming straight for Chu Ning's throat.

Chu Ning remained unmoved.

He slowly, very slowly, drew the Broken Snow Blade from his waist.

"Chong-"

A soft sound, like a sudden clap of thunder in the sky.

A flash of cold light appeared, and the light at the entrance of the alley seemed to be suppressed by that single strike.

The next instant, the scarred man felt the world spinning before his eyes, followed by a sudden onslaught of excruciating pain.

He stared blankly down at the sight of his right arm, severed along with the bone, lying on the muddy ground, blood gushing out like a fountain.

"what--!"

A heart-wrenching scream pierced the sky.

The scarred man knelt on the ground, clutching his severed arm and howling in pain, his voice hoarse and broken.

The Broken Snow Blade was still trembling slightly, its blade as white as snow, radiating a cold light, as if it could continue to reap any living beings that dared to move at any moment.

All the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect around them were terrified and had lost all will to fight. They fled in panic.

Chu Ning was too lazy to chase after him, so he simply sheathed his sword and lightly patted Shen Yan's back.

"From now on, with me around, no one will dare to bully you again."

"Let's go back and heal our wounds first."

His tone was calm, yet it carried an absolute confidence that could crush all enemies.

He turned to help Shen Yan leave, but saw that the man was clenching his teeth, trembling all over, his face as pale as paper, still tightly protecting the tattered cloth bag in his arms, refusing to move an inch.

"I...can't abandon my...wife and children..."

Shen Yan's voice was broken and intermittent, and his bloodshot eyes were filled with a tearing plea and resentment.

Chu Ning's heart skipped a beat. She bent down and her fingertips trembled as she lifted the corner of the tattered cloth.

What came into view was a stack of oil-stained contracts.

The vermilion seal above was blood red, the characters blurred, yet still faintly discernible:

A contract of servitude.

The Wang family used a paltry thirty taels of silver to pawn Shen Yan's wife and children to the Hanshan Sect as slaves. The terms of the contract clearly stated:
"Redemption requires three times the price of silver; otherwise, one will be a slave forever, with generations of lowly status."

The cold, hard words, like rusty, poisonous blades, pierced Chu Ning's eyes.

His chest tightened suddenly, his breath caught in his throat, and countless fragmented images flashed through his mind in an instant:

A few months ago, he and his sister were forced by the Wang family to sign an IOU and were humiliated every day.
To make a meager living, the older sister bowed her head and begged, but she still couldn't escape the fate of selling herself to pay off her debts.

That enormous "usurious debt" was like a chain, tightly strangling the siblings' necks...

Now, fate has repeated itself, only this time, it is Shen Yan's family who have become playthings.

It was as if someone was chuckling softly in Chu Ning's ear:

"These are the rules; are we born to submit?"

In an instant, his anger exploded like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing deep within his blood.

He slowly clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white, and lightning patterns faintly appeared on his palm, with arcs of electricity hissing and leaping between his fingers.

A cold wind swept across the long street, whipping up tattered cloths and scattering mud and dust.

Chu Ning lowered his eyes, his voice low and deep, as if rolling out from the depths of the netherworld:
"This world..."

"They eat people without spitting out the bones."

He closed his eyes briefly, suppressing the surging killing intent within him.

The next moment, Chu Ning squatted down, cupped Shen Yan's thin, blood-stained shoulder in his palm, and spoke in a gentle tone, yet with an unwavering resolve like an unshakeable mountain:

"Take a break."

"Leave the rest to me."

Shen Yan looked up blankly, his eyes filled with a mixture of blood and tears.

Chu Ning had carefully placed him on the broken stone steps by the street, his cloak billowing slightly, his figure as dark as ink, as he slowly rose. In the distance, the figures of the Cold Mountain Sect had already gathered, their killing intent palpable.

But he just stood there quietly, like a lone sword suppressing thunder, with his back to the wind and rain, holding up the hope of life for one person alone.

Just then, at the end of the alley, shadows surged, and several figures rushed towards them at lightning speed.

They were all dressed in long black robes with silver patterns, the chests embroidered with the unique mountain crack patterns of the Cold Mountain Sect, exuding a fierce aura.

The leader, with white hair and a youthful face, had a face as cold as iron, ruthless and cold-blooded. He held a red copper cane with a ferocious Taotie carved on the top. His aura was like a cold current of iron and blood. He was Li Qihe, the third elder of the Cold Mountain Sect, a ninth-rank superior expert.

Several disciples followed behind, each exuding a chilling aura. Their steps were like iron cavalry pressing in, and their killing intent was already palpable even before their swords were drawn.

One of the disciples strode forward, bent down, and whispered, deliberately raising his voice:
"Elder Li, it's him! It was this brat who cut off Senior Brother Li Xi's arm and openly humiliated the reputation of my Hanshan Sect."

The moment the words left his mouth, a chill spread throughout the air.

Li Qihe squinted at him, his gaze like a cold knife wrapped in the frost of winter, sending chills down one's spine.

He leaned on his cane, his steps as firm as a rock, his voice so deep it seemed to roll out from hell:
"It's you?"

"A mere low-ranking tenth grader dares to injure a disciple of my Cold Mountain Sect and disgrace my sect?"

The people around them looked at each other in bewilderment, and the atmosphere instantly became as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.

Chu Ning, however, remained calm in the face of the overwhelming pressure of the ninth-rank official, his white hair fluttering slightly in the wind.

He raised his eyes, a glint of lightning hidden within them, and a cold smile playing on his lips.

With a mere flick of his sleeve, the hem of his robe tore through the dust.

His voice was clear and bright, yet it carried a chilling sharpness; every word was piercing and resounding.
"If the upper beam is crooked, the lower beam will surely be crooked as well."

"With elders like you, the Cold Mountain Sect is nothing more than a den of thieves disguised as a sect."

There was dead silence all around.

These words were like a thunderclap that shattered the night sky, causing the crowds who had been watching on both sides of the street to change color, gasp, and retreat in shock.

In the past few decades, there has been no one in the prefecture city who dared to speak so frankly against the Third Elder of the Cold Mountain Sect.

Li Qihe's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. His cane trembled slightly, causing the floor tiles to shatter and shards to fly everywhere.

His eyes blazed with fury, and he growled in a low, cold voice:
"court death!"

The cane slammed down heavily, like a thunderbolt striking the ground.

"boom."

The ground trembled, cracks spread rapidly like a spider web, and a surge of icy energy erupted, transforming into an invisible, cold cone that angrily stabbed towards Chu Ning's chest.

This strike contained the power of a top-grade ninth-rank weapon; anyone else would have had their internal organs pierced on the spot.

However, Chu Ning simply raised her eyes quietly, her gaze chillingly cold.

Before the chilling air could even touch him, a faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.

next moment.

He took one step forward.

"boom!"

Lightning erupted from his body like a raging torrent of thunder, shattering the long street.

Dust swirled and lightning flashed.

Along the long street, the wooden doors of shops collapsed with a crash, and the tiles were hurled up by the thunder and shattered like locusts.

All the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect had drastically changed their expressions, their eyes widened in horror, and they were forced to take three steps back by the shock.

Li Qihe's pupils contracted sharply, and for the first time, a look of seriousness appeared in his eyes.

Chu Ning, however, stood proudly like a god amidst thunder, his cloak fluttering in the wind, not retreating a single step, his killing intent already surging like a tide.

Li Qihe's eyes flashed with cold light, his anger reaching its peak.

He suddenly swung his bronze cane, the shadow of which swept across the room with a thunderous roar, like a rolling gust of cold wind pressing down from an iron wall, the air itself being squeezed and exploded, producing a low, piercing sonic boom.

"Your Majesty!"

He roared fiercely, his voice like rolling thunder. He unleashed his full power as a ninth-grade superior cultivator, and the shockwave surged and swept across the sky, pressing down on Chu Ning like a collapsing mountain and a tsunami.

The onlookers were terrified and stumbled back, their breaths seemingly frozen, and a suffocating sense of oppression filled the air.

However, under this terrifying aura, Chu Ning only slightly raised his eyes.

The silver mark between his brows twitched slightly, and his icy gaze tore through the night like a blade.

next moment.

"Om-"

A burst of azure lightning suddenly erupted from his palm, like a thunder pool overturning, the rolling lightning shaking the entire long street.

The long sword at his waist was drawn half an inch from its sheath, its sound like a dragon's roar.

A thin, cold arc of light silently pierced the void, like a moonlit stream of light, arriving without a sound.

"Qiang."

In the blink of an eye, the bronze cane clashed with the broken snow blade.

In an instant, Li Qihe's expression changed drastically.

He felt a jolt in his hand, and a terrifying thunderous force emanated from the cane, as if a thousand-foot-deep sea of ​​thunder was pulling at his arm, making his entire arm almost shatter into pieces.

"Boom."

He and his staff flew backwards for ten feet, crashing heavily into a roadside teahouse, raising dust and sending rubble flying.

"Boom."

Broken wood fell like rain. Li Qihe struggled to his feet from the ruins, one shoulder slumped, his face ashen, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He was a pathetic sight.

The long street was deathly silent.

The disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect were dumbfounded, their hands and feet turned ice-cold, and their hearts felt as if they were being gripped tightly by lightning, losing even the courage to move.

"Elder Li... how could this be..."

"He's a top-grade ninth-rank official!"

Exclamations arose, but no one dared to take another step forward.

Chu Ning simply sheathed his sword with a gentle touch, his movements as calm and collected as brushing away dust or stroking snow.

It was as if that earth-shattering slash from just now was merely a casual flick of dust, without even disturbing his aura in the slightest.

The long street was deathly silent.

All the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect were pale, as if their courage had been shattered by lightning.

Chu Ning simply sheathed his sword slowly, his movements elegant and composed, as if he were merely brushing away a speck of dust from his palm.

He lowered his eyes and glanced at Shen Yan, whom he was holding protectively in his arms. His voice was gentle, like the last gentle spring breeze in a sea of ​​thunder:

"Let's go, take your wife and children home."

A simple sentence, yet it's like a ray of light breaking through a broken heart.

Shen Yan choked up, tears welling in his eyes. His heavily injured body trembled slightly, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up.

(End of this chapter)