Young Song: The Hidden Sword God, Han Yi and Her Child Arrive at the Door.

"Wow! The table isn't wobbling anymore!"

A clear, childlike voice, as melodious as a wind chime, broke the deathly silence without warning.

Little Nuomi, who had been scribbling on the "crippled table," was now excitedly clapping her chubby little hands, her big, black grape-like eyes sparkling as if she had discovered some incredible new continent.

There was still a little ink on her face, but as she smiled, she looked incredibly cute and charming.

"Daddy's great! This book is so useful!"

Little Nuomi stretched out her chubby finger and pointed to the yellowed manual under the table, which was folded and even deformed due to the weight, revealing only half of the word "storm". She looked at Su Changqing with admiration.

Her soft, sweet voice was filled with genuine joy: "The table kept wobbling, going up and down, and I couldn't draw the tiger's tail properly! Now that I've put this book down, it's finally stable!"

As he spoke, the little guy seemed to press his little hand hard on the table to prove himself.

"Thump, thump".

The table emitted a dull thud, remaining completely still, as steady as Mount Tai.

This scene not only left the martial arts heroes present dumbfounded, but also struck the Tang Clan like a thunderbolt.

"puff--!!!"

A sharp, piercing sound of blood spurting out suddenly rang out.

The Tang Clan elder standing at the very front felt a surge of blood rush to his chest and a sweet taste in his throat upon hearing the words "It's really useful." He could no longer suppress a mouthful of blood, which he then spat out, staining the bluestone floor in front of him red.

easy to use?

Is this book really useful?

These words were like sharp knives, piercing deep into the hearts of all Tang Clan disciples.

Do you know what kind of book that is?!

That's the "Rain of Pear Blossom Needles Manual"! It's the foundation of the Tang Clan's thousand-year history! It's a masterpiece of hidden weapon design, the result of countless predecessors' painstaking efforts, exhausting their life's energy, and even sacrificing their lives!

In the martial arts world, this book is enough to ignite a bloodbath and cause countless sects to fight tooth and nail!

But now, in the mouth of this three-year-old toddler, its only use is to... prop up the table?

And the reason given was simply that the table was wobbly, which affected her drawing of that life-threatening "big tiger"?

This is absolutely... a psychological attack!

If Su Changqing had uttered insults, they could have seen it as the arrogance and domineering nature of the strong, and though they hated him, they would have been helpless. But these words came from the mouth of an innocent child; that pure, heartfelt praise, that unadulterated pragmatism, was a thousand times more hurtful than the most vicious curse in the world!

Because it fundamentally negates the value of the Tang Sect's existence!

"Children speak without thinking! Children speak without thinking..."

The elder, who was coughing up blood, clutched his violently heaving chest and swayed precariously. If it weren't for his disciples supporting him, he would probably have collapsed to the ground long ago.

He trembled all over, tears streaming down his face, feeling as if his lifelong faith was collapsing at this moment.

"Grandmaster! Your disciple is utterly incompetent! To allow our sect's most treasured artifact to suffer such a humiliating disgrace! Your disciple... your disciple has failed the ancestors of the Tang Sect!"

The elder's mournful cries echoed within the Changqing Tower, filling listeners with a sense of desolation.

The other Tang Clan disciples were also ashen-faced, some filled with shame and indignation, others with bloodshot eyes, their fists clenched so tightly that their nails dug into their palms.

The humiliation of being slapped hard in public and then asked "how did it feel?" drove them almost to madness.

However, just as someone was about to shout out in anger—

"What are you looking at?"

A calm voice rang out, not loud, but like the icy wind of the dead of winter, instantly freezing everyone's anger.

Su Changqing was holding a silk handkerchief and gently wiping the ink off Xiao Nuomi's face.

Hearing the noise, he turned his head slightly, and his doting gaze turned icy the moment it turned to the Tang Clan members.

What kind of eyes were those?

Indifferent, aloof, as if a god from the heavens were looking down on ants, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

He slowly swept his gaze over the indignant Tang Clan disciples, a faint glint of coldness flashing in his eyes, and said indifferently, "What? Is my daughter wrong? What else can this book be used for besides propping up a table? Can it be eaten?"

"Judging by its thickness, it's perfect for propping up a table. Or are you saying that my daughter's drawing is less important than this lousy book of yours?"

With this rhetorical question, an extremely terrifying pressure descended with a roar, as if an ancient divine mountain had collapsed!

boom!

The air seemed to be sucked away in an instant. All the Tang Clan disciples felt a weight on their shoulders, their knees went weak, and their souls trembled. It was an absolute crushing on a life level, leaving them unable to even muster the thought of resistance.

"No... I wouldn't dare..."

The young disciple who had been about to say something earlier instantly cowered under this oppressive aura. His face turned ashen, his teeth chattered, and he lowered his head, not daring to even breathe.

joke!

This is a ruthless person who can even injure an old man from a distance and treats human life as worthless!

If they dared to utter even half a word more, they would probably become the book's "companion" in the next second, and go to stand on the table legs together! They might not even be qualified to stand on the table legs, and would directly turn into dust outside this Changqing Building.

"snort."

Su Changqing snorted coldly, withdrew his gaze, and the oppressive aura dissipated.

When he turned around to face Xiao Nuomi, his icy, murderous aura vanished instantly, replaced by an extremely gentle, doting "daughter-lover" smile. The speed of this transformation was simply astonishing.

"I'm glad you like it." Su Changqing gently patted Xiao Nuomi's head and said softly, "Although the book is full of nonsense and not very useful, the paper is still quite sturdy and it's old paper, so it's tough and can barely be used on our table."

"If this table continues to wobble, or if any other tables wobble, just tell Daddy."

Su Changqing pointed to the Tang Clan members, whose faces were ashen, and said casually, as if he were talking about cabbages at the market, "Father will go and ask them for a few more copies. Anyway, they have plenty of this kind of waste paper. Might as well use it."

Waste paper...

There are many...

Standing to the side, Tang Lian felt as if her internal organs were convulsing.

As the senior disciple of the Tang Clan in this generation, he was known for his composure, remaining unmoved even in the face of a collapsing mountain. But at this moment, the corner of his mouth twitched violently, and he felt as if his face was about to cramp.

He realized that this was Su Changqing.

This is the legendary man.

One is a doting father, and the other is an unreasonable and overprotective father.

In his world, there was no code of honor, no sect dignity, and no rules of the martial arts world. There was only one center in his world: his daughter.

As long as his daughter is happy, Su Changqing would probably do anything for her, let alone the "Rain of Pear Blossom Needle Manual," even dismantling the entire Tang Clan for her to play with as building blocks, or even using the ancestral tablets of the Tang Clan's founders as firewood. He would probably even ask, "Is the fire burning bright enough?"

These are the most terrifying people.

Because he is reckless, because he possesses the power to break all rules.

"Mr. Su..."

Tang Lian took a deep breath, his nails digging deep into his palms, using the pain to keep himself awake. He forcibly suppressed the turmoil of bitterness and helplessness in his heart, bowed, and respectfully cupped his hands in greeting.

"Since...since Little Nuomi likes it, let's keep it. It's a way of...making the most of it."

When she finally said the words "make the best use of resources," Tang Lian's voice trembled, and her heart bled. Every word seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth, carrying a bloody pain.

This is the lifeblood of the Tang Clan!

Now, however, this is the only way to "make the most of things".

How tragic, how ironic.

But Tang Lian understood that circumstances were beyond his control. If he didn't yield, not only would he lose the blueprint, but the dozens of Tang Clan disciples here would likely perish. For the sake of the Tang Clan's survival, he had to swallow this humiliation!

"Alright, stop getting in my way."

Su Changqing had no interest in appreciating Tang Lian's inner monologue. He waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a few buzzing flies.

"Take your junk and get out of here. Don't block my business and spoil my daughter's painting mood. And—"

Su Changqing paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of warning in his tone, "Don't let me see any Tang Clan members loitering in Snow Moon City again, especially not within a five-mile radius of my Changqing Tower. Otherwise..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaningful gaze and the faint wisp of sword energy flickering at his fingertips said it all.

Next time, it won't be as simple as just propping up a table leg.

"Yes! Tang Lian understands!"

Tang Lian trembled, bowed deeply again, her head almost touching her knees, and said, "The Tang Clan will withdraw from Snow Moon City immediately, and from this day forward, we will never set foot here again! If we offend again, we will be at Mr. Su's mercy!"

After saying that, he suddenly straightened up and turned around, his once upright back now appearing somewhat hunched.

He waved his hand at the group of Tang Clan disciples who were already terrified and completely lost, his voice hoarse: "Go!"

The group of people felt as if they had been granted a pardon, and hurriedly picked up the boxes that had not yet been taken away—except for the lonely atlas lying on the corner of the table—and slunk away.

The Tang Clan disciples, who used to be dashing and arrogant, now looked like a group of refugees fleeing in disarray.

The surrounding diners watched this scene, each holding a wine glass, unable to put it down for a long time, sighing with emotion.

Who would have thought that the once mighty Tang Clan of Sichuan, known as "Better to meet Yama, the King of Hell, than to mess with the Tang Clan," would fall to such a state?

They didn't dare utter a sound when their prized possession was used to prop up table legs; they even had to put on a smiling face and say, "Making the best use of it."

From this day forward, Changqing Tower will likely become a forbidden place for the entire martial arts world.

"That's real skill..."

Behind the counter, Xiao Se, who had been leaning back lazily, gently shook his head, a complex look flashing in his eyes.

He put down his abacus, watched Su Changqing's retreating figure, and murmured, "In this world, might makes right. Even if you're from a family with a thousand-year history, even if you have an extraordinary background, in the face of absolute power, you're nothing more than a slightly larger ant."

"but……"

Xiao Se's gaze shifted to the man who was holding his daughter and drawing, a silly grin spreading across his face. A playful smile unconsciously crept onto his lips. "With this 'ant' propping up the table legs, the table is definitely much more stable. At least, no one will dare to cause trouble here anymore."

With the departure of the Tang Clan members, the entrance to Changqing Tower finally returned to its usual tranquility. Sunlight once again streamed onto the threshold, as if the tense atmosphere of just moments before had been nothing but an illusion.

Su Changqing didn't care about the gazes of those martial arts figures. He sat back down in his chair and watched as Xiao Nuomi finally finished her "masterpiece" on the paper.

It was a... well, it looked like a cat, but also like a pig, and it had stripes on its body.

"Well done, very expressive," Su Changqing praised earnestly, his tone so sincere it made one wonder if his aesthetic sense was flawed. "This tiger is majestic, with sharp eyes, truly embodying the spirit of the king of the forest!"

"That's right! Nuonuo is a genius painter!" Little Nuonuo was overjoyed by the praise, proudly raising her little chin, her two pigtails swaying back and forth. "This big tiger is for Daddy to protect him!"

"Yes, yes, you're a genius painter. Thank you, Nuonuo, for protecting Daddy."

Su Changqing's heart melted. He affectionately pinched her little nose, then raised his head, his gaze passing over the bustling crowd and landing precisely on Tang Lian, whose back was desolate as she was about to disappear from sight.

Although he loathed the people of the Tang Clan, he found the old man to be an even more cunning and treacherous old fox.

But this kid... Tang Lian.

The way he endured humiliation and bowed his head to protect the sect's disciples just now showed some backbone. Compared to those spineless cowards who only know how to bully others and kneel down to beg for mercy once they lose power, he was far superior.

Moreover, even in extreme fear, this kid managed to maintain a sliver of rationality and protect his fellow disciples behind him.

"His temperament is acceptable, but it's a pity he followed the wrong person," Su Changqing thought to himself.

At this moment, Tang Lian had reached the street corner and was preparing to mount his horse and leave this place of sorrow that he would never forget.

"etc."

A voice suddenly rang in his ear.

The sound wasn't loud, nor did it contain any internal force to intimidate, yet it clearly penetrated the noisy street and accurately entered Tang Lian's ears.

Tang Lian stopped abruptly and turned around stiffly.

At that moment, his heart was filled with trepidation and despair.

Could it be... that Mr. Su has changed his mind?

Does he intend to wipe them all out?

Does he think one book isn't enough to prop up the table legs, and he wants to keep all of us here?

The Tang Clan disciples around them were so frightened that they almost fell off their horses. They stared at Tang Lian with pale faces and eyes full of terror.

Tang Lian took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, turned around, and bowed again towards the direction of Changqing Tower, her voice trembling slightly: "Mr. Su, is there anything else you need?"

Inside Changqing Tower, Su Changqing didn't look at him, but continued to watch his daughter draw, feeding a piece of pastry to Xiao Nuomi, as if he wasn't the one who had just called out to him.

Time passed by, second by second.

This silent torment is more terrifying than taking direct action.

Cold sweat trickled down Tang Lian's forehead and dripped onto the dry dust. Just when he was about to give up and thought he was going to die here today.

Su Changqing finally uttered a sentence in a low voice.

The sound wasn't loud, but it exploded in Tang Lian's mind like a thunderclap.

"I find you pleasing to the eye, so I'll give you a piece of advice."