Chapter 1550: The End of the Party

The young woman led Zhao Li Xin away from the main villa, guiding him along a stone path that wound behind manicured hedges and ornamental trees. With every step, the sounds of the gathering faded, laughter, music, conversation, until only silence remained.

They arrived at a detached building ahead, which stood secluded and discreet, a guest house meant for distinguished visitors and family members who required privacy. ℯℓ.

"Sorry, it’s a bit far," she said with a sweet, innocent smile. "You can wait here first while I ask a maid to bring you a fresh shirt."

Zhao Li Xin did not bother to reply. He walked past her without so much as a glance, treating her as though she were nothing more than empty air, and stepped inside. The woman paused, drawing a slow breath to suppress the anger and frustration tightening in her chest.

"Wait here," she said curtly.

A moment later, the door closed behind him.

Zhao Li Xin remained calm as his gaze swept the room. The interior was spacious, a lounge with a large screen mounted on the wall, a compact kitchen, and a polished bar along one side. He took it all in with a single, measured glance.

Is not a bad place, ’what a shame,’ he thought.

A faint smile touched his lips, then he look a head of him and tilted his head slightly, as if he was waiting.

Not long after, the air around him shifted. The space itself seemed to ripple, and three men emerged from nothingness, their forms solidifying as concealment spells unraveled. They wore tactical suits, sleek and efficient, except for one clad in a long black robe. Their expressions were stern, eyes brimming with undisguised murderous intent.

Zhao Li Xin lifted his beautifully shaped brows, feigning

obliviousness. "Did all of you come just to bring me my shirt?" he asked, his tone almost amused. It seemed Lory’s playfulness had rubbed off on him in some way.

The taunt struck its mark. One of the assassins hissed, the killing intent in his eyes spilling openly. "We came here to bring you death."

Zhao Li Xin’s brows lifted in brief surprise, then he let out a helpless sigh. "Why are villains always so dramatic?"

"KILL HIM!" they roar

One of the men moved first. Metal swallowed his arms in a crawling sheen, flesh hardening into steel as he lunged forward, fist cocked back to strike.

At the same instant, the second assassin raised a heavy, modified firearm, runes etched along its barrel flared to life, humming with restrained power. The third pressed his palm flat against the floor, lips moving in a rapid, venomous incantation.

The trap closed.

The ground beneath Zhao Li Xin’s feet softened and collapsed, turning viscous as an unseen force dragged at his legs. Stone swallowed him ankle-deep, then higher, binding him in place like living quicksand.

They did not hesitate.

It seems they knew who he was—or at least, they knew enough to fear him. The gun roared, thunderous in the confined space, enchanted rounds tearing through the air in a lethal blur.

The metal man charged, each step cracking the floor, his reinforced fist aimed straight for Zhao Li Xin’s skull. The spellcaster snarled through clenched teeth as his magic tightened, the floor pulling harder, determined to hold its prey still.

"How stupid," Zhao Li Xin chuckled softly.

The words were almost gentle.

An instant before steel met flesh—before bullets reached his face, Zhao Li Xin released his qi.

The air detonated.

Invisible force exploded outward in a crushing wave. The metal man was ripped off his feet and hurled into the wall with bone-shattering force.

The bullets shattered mid-flight, disintegrating into sparks and fragments as if they had struck an unseen barrier. Furniture lifted, twisted, and was flung violently aside, the room screaming as Zhao Li Xin’s qi tore through it.

The two remaining men barely managed to conjure barriers in time. Even so, the impact slammed into them like a mountain, rattling their bones and stealing their breath.

Zhao Li Xin twisted his legs once, and the floor that held him cracked open. He stepped out with ease, as though the trap had been nothing more than fragile sand beneath his feet. He straightened calmly amid the wreckage.

The assassins stared at him in pure horror.

This man is not human; he’s a monster!

Zhao Li Xin clicked his tongue softly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ve never attacked a cultivator before, have you?" He looked at them with mild disappointment, just like a teacher regarding hopelessly failed students.

Meanwhile, all three men shared the same stunned thought: What’s a cultivator?

Zhao Li Xin could feel their fear, anxiety, and despair. A familiar feeling he felt from anyone who fought him. The enemy feel they were cornered like trapped prey, they immediately took a health potion to heal their injury, especially the man who had been thrown away.

They added another potion to enhance their agility and strength, a boost, one may say. something that Lory never takes, because of the dependent side effect.

But these people disregard it, out of despair, probably.

Zhao Li Xin felt the energy around them shift—denser, heavier, laced with intent. Stronger, perhaps. But would that change anything? Not really. At least, not in front of someone like him.

Moving with lightning speed, Zhao Li Xin closed the distance in a blink. His fingers struck a precise acupoint on the metal-armed man’s shoulder, the impact sharp and controlled.

The metallic sheen flickered, then failed. Before the man could even gasp, a heavy punch slammed into his stomach. The sound was loud and fatal.

The man vomited blood as his body was hurled backward, crashing into the wall with enough force to crack stone and plaster alike before he slid limply to the floor, dead, of course.

Gunfire erupted as the second man fired wildly, enchanted rounds screaming through the air. Zhao Li Xin weaved forward in sharp, zigzag movements, bullets missing him by inches. He slipped inside the man’s guard, twisted his wrist with effortless precision, and disarmed him in one smooth motion.

The gun changed hands, then a single shot rang out. The man fell, dead, before his body hit the ground.

The last assassin trembled. Fear warped his face, but survival forced his hands into motion. He raised his arms, and chanting desperately as the wall and floor liquefied once more, spreading like a living mire around Zhao Li Xin, eager to swallow him.

With a burst of lightness skill, Zhao Li Xin leapt into the air, avoiding the floor that tried to sink him. He bounced between the furniture, avoiding the liquid walls that tried to grab him.

Zhao Li Xin moved with blinding speed, bouncing from one piece of furniture to another as though gravity itself bent to his will. In the final instant, he extended his hand and struck the man square in the face.

The impact drove the man straight down. His head plunged into the liquid floor, sinking fast. The man flailed wildly, arms and legs thrashing in panic as the surface swallowed him. He struggles, gasping for air, gradually weakened before finally stopping.

The floor hardened again. Half his body remained trapped beneath the stone, frozen in an eerie, final posture. Zhao Li Xin straightened and calmly withdrew his hand from the floor. The ground shattered where his fingers had been, cracks spiderwebbing outward as fragments fell away.

Silence reclaimed the ruined room.

Zhao Li Xin glanced around at the destruction he had left behind—shattered furniture, cracked walls, and blood staining the floor. His gaze lingered only briefly before dropping to his clothes, now marred by splashes of dust and grime. His brows furrowed in mild displeasure.

With a casual flick of his hand, he summoned a fresh set of clothes from his spatial ring. In a blink, the stains were gone, replaced by immaculate fabric, crisp, unwrinkled, untouched by violence.

Outside, the woman waited.

She bit her nails anxiously, heart pounding as seconds stretched into eternity. When the door finally opened, her eyes lit up in reflexive relief—

But then she froze, her eyes widened in shock.

Zhao Li Xin stepped out, completely unharmed. Unshaken. Impeccable. Not even a single scratch marked him. Not even a crease marred his clothes.

True horror bloomed across her face. Her lips trembled as he walked toward her, his footsteps calm, measured, inevitable. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but her feet felt nailed to the floor, her body refusing to obey.

He stopped right beside her. When he spoke, his voice was the coldest thing she had ever heard.

"Next time," Zhao Li Xin said quietly, "bring someone stronger." Then he walked past her at a calm pace.

She stood there, for a long moment, listening to his footsteps fade down the corridor—one step, two steps—until even the echo disappeared. Only then did the strength drain from her body; her knees gave out.

She collapsed onto the floor, her breath shuddering as silence crushed down on her. Only then did the realization settle in, she had survived not because he felt any pity for her, nor did he care for her, no, he allowed her to live to send a warning.

A challenge.