Chapter 4335 — Bound for the Xianpeng Isle
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
The black-robed man at their head was struck dumb by the sight. He stood rooted to the spot, speechless for a long moment. The third and fourth might have been a notch below him, but they were still masters at the peak of the late Golden Core stage—and yet, right before his eyes, they had been swatted down as easily as one might brush away a fly.
The docks had only just reopened, and the shore was still close at hand, so many other vessels were putting out to sea in company. Seeing the two men plunge into the water, crews came out onto their decks to gawk, yet not a soul lifted a finger. They merely gathered, wagged their tongues a while, then steered a wide berth around the spot.
Having swept both the third and the fourth away, Wei Zhao turned his gaze upon the black-robed leader. The man gave a violent start; his first reflex was neither to resist nor to flee—it was to drop to his knees with a heavy thud.
"Brother—no, Senior! You must be a Nascent Soul master, sir! Forgive me, I was wrong, we were blind and ignorant and offended you. Be magnanimous, great one, and spare this worthless life of mine, I beg you! Your boundless grace I shall never forget so long as I have teeth in my head!" The black-robed man babbled his pleas without pause, not sparing a thought for the dignity that befitted a Golden Core expert.
To knock two late-Golden-Core masters flying with a casual flick, right in front of his eyes—in the black-robed man's mind, Wei Zhao was now unquestionably a Nascent Soul master!
Looking back now, the fact that they had dared to rob this man's convoy could only be put down to the fearlessness of the ignorant—and to truly monstrous luck. Had this man not deliberately concealed his strength and held back from striking, the lot of them would have died long ago, their corpses torn to pieces. There was no way they would have lived to this day.
Even as he groveled shamelessly for his life, the black-robed man was silently counting his blessings, thanking heaven that he had held back a moment ago and not joined the attack. Otherwise he would by now be lying on the seabed beside the third and the fourth.
He watched Wei Zhao's expression with the utmost care, knowing his life or death hung on the man's every whim. It was not that he did not want to run; the power Wei Zhao had displayed in that single instant was simply too terrifying. Even if he tried to flee, he would never get away.
Wei Zhao looked him up and down, his face blank the whole while, saying not a word. The black-robed man's heart pitched and tossed like a boat in a storm. To have one's life held in another's hand, to wait at the edge of death for the verdict—such pressure was more than an ordinary man could bear.
For all that the black-robed man fancied himself a veteran who had weathered countless storms, he could hold out no longer and scarcely dared to draw a full breath. From half-kneeling he sank into a half-prostrate sprawl, so frightened he nearly wet himself on the spot.
"Little Black," Wei Zhao said suddenly, his tone mild, "what do you think I ought to do with you?"
"Little Black?" The black-robed man blinked, utterly bewildered, and raised his head to look at Wei Zhao.
"What, are you not Little Black? Then why the black robe and black trousers, and that black band tied round your head?" Wei Zhao said with a sidelong glance.
"Eh? Oh—yes, yes, Senior is right, I am Little Black!" The black-robed man nodded hurriedly, the corner of his mouth twitching all the while. I dressed like this to look fierce, to look imposing, so that anyone with eyes would know I'm not to be trifled with—how in the world did I turn into Little Black? What kind of name is that for a man…
"Tell me yourself," Wei Zhao said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Do you want to die, or do you want to live?"