Wei Hong fell hard, completely caught off guard and utterly embarrassed.

He was the dignified leader of the Mu Dao Sect, one of the three great masters of the Blade Alliance, yet here he was, flat on his back with all four limbs in the air, without even realizing what had happened—let alone resisting it.

As he lay on the ground staring at the sky, the first thought that crossed his mind was—this fabric seems pretty nice!

Xiao Si Zi tilted his head up and saw a very tall person suddenly appear beside him, even taller than his father.

Although they had never met before, Xiao Si Zi recognized the fabric of his clothing, as well as the hand outside the sleeve—it was the same hand that had just given him silver. A very beautiful hand!

Xiao Si Zi stared blankly at the hand, which was now holding something long, wrapped in a piece of white silk embroidered with a silver-threaded snake. There was also a small bundle containing a square-shaped object.

He kept staring in a daze.

Meanwhile, Wei Hong, lying on the ground, finally came back to his senses. The white robe that had been floating mid-air settled back down, revealing a tall, slender man in white standing beside him, his posture effortlessly graceful.

“Hey!” Wei Hong shouted, unsure if he was more angry or frustrated.

His sudden outburst startled the dazed Xiao Si Zi, who instinctively took a step forward, grabbing onto the white robe and hiding behind it.

Zhan Zhao had descended from the rooftop but didn’t step forward. The scene before him was rather interesting.

A sea of white stretched out before him—hundreds of people dressed in mourning attire, lined up in rows. Ordinarily, such a scene would evoke sorrow, yet due to the hostility in these martial artists’ gazes, it instead radiated pure fury.

But everything is a matter of contrast. Compared to the oppressive white of mourning, the white figure that had just descended from the sky was much more pleasing to the eye.

First, this white robe was luxurious and elegant, crafted with exquisite taste. Second, the man wearing it was simply too striking.

Zhan Zhao stroked his chin as he observed the man in white. Though they had never met before, he felt that this face matched the name he had heard so many times before—it was a perfect fit!

He had heard countless exaggerated descriptions, but seeing him in person was still breathtaking.

Shaking his head slightly, Zhan Zhao sighed inwardly—his reputation was well deserved!

Neither Grand Preceptor Pang nor Bao Zheng understood what had just happened. They had only seen Wei Hong charge forward recklessly, nearly harming a child. Just as he was about to shove the plump little boy, a man in white suddenly appeared beside him, grabbed his arm, and swung him around like a fish before slamming him to the ground.

Pang Ji leaned over and whispered to Bao Zheng, “Hey, Blackie, who is that?”

Bao Zheng stroked his beard. The man in white appeared to be around Zhan Zhao’s age, similar in stature, but his striking appearance was truly rare.

When Bao Zheng had first met Zhan Zhao, he had found him exceptionally handsome—but in a way that was warm and harmonious, a beauty that was effortlessly likable. This man in white, however… his looks were so dazzling they were almost overwhelming.

As a man, Bao Zheng could admit that the white-robed stranger was outstanding in appearance, but there was nothing delicate or effeminate about him. Instead, his sharply defined features exuded an air of arrogance. Compared to Zhan Zhao’s gentle handsomeness, this man’s beauty was almost aggressive.

Furthermore, his expression was far too serious. He wasn’t fierce, but he was cold—like an ice sculpture.

He gave off the aura of someone who didn’t welcome strangers, yet right now, that plump and adorable little boy was clutching onto his leg, hiding behind him.

The contrast was…

“Pfft.”

Zhan Zhao couldn’t help but chuckle.

The man in white looked up and met his gaze, as if assessing him as well.

After a brief moment of eye contact, Zhan Zhao curled his lips into a bright, dazzling smile.

The white-robed man seemed momentarily stunned, as if he hadn’t expected Zhan Zhao to smile at him. Or perhaps… he had never seen such a smile before—so open and warm, like the afternoon sun on a winter’s day.

At that moment, Wei Hong also stood up.

All of these glances and exchanges had happened in mere seconds. Wei Hong’s anger had not subsided in the slightest. He hadn’t even gotten a clear look at the man in white—he only knew that he had been ambushed.

Desperate to regain his dignity, he lashed out with a kick aimed at the man in white.

The white-robed man did not dodge. He didn’t move at all.

“Wait, wait…”

Before anyone could react, Zhan Zhao extended both hands, blocking both Wei Hong’s angry attack and the white-robed man’s slightly raised hand, which was gripping the long silk-wrapped object.

Of course… no one had seen how Zhan Zhao got there, just as no one had seen how the white-robed man had appeared.

Grand Preceptor Pang rubbed his eyes and asked Bao Zheng, “Blackie, do all martial artists these days know how to fly?”

Bao Zheng, though not a martial artist himself, was not unfamiliar with the world. He knew exactly how skilled Zhan Zhao was.

When he had first taken Zhan Zhao into his service, he had known that his martial arts were exceptional—but just how exceptional, he hadn’t quite grasped.

Until one day, the Imperial Guard Nan Gong Ji, known as the greatest fighter in the palace, told him: “Among the younger generation in the martial world, only one person can match Zhan Zhao—Bai Yutang.”

Bao Zheng had curiously asked, “Can you defeat Zhan Zhao?”

Nan Gong Ji had shaken his head. “Of course not.”

Bao Zheng had stroked his beard. The saying “true masters conceal their skill” was indeed accurate. If that was the case, could this white-robed man be the legendary Bai Yutang?

He had heard the name before—Bai Yutang, also known as the Silver-Furred Rat.

His gaze shifted toward the luxurious white silk wrapped around the long object. That was likely the famed Cloud Blade.

Bai Yutang was indeed a dazzling figure. Compared to him, Zhan Zhao seemed much more approachable—at least he smiled.

As Bai Yutang turned his gaze to Gongsun, recognition flashed in his eyes.

With a small bow, he greeted him, “Mr. Gongsun.”

Zhan Zhao’s eyes widened—How polite!

The crowd exchanged glances.

Bao Zheng stroked his beard. “Refined, well-mannered, well-educated.”

Pang Ji twitched his lips. No kidding—look at that outfit. You can tell he’s from a wealthy family.

Gongsun patted Xiao Si Zi. “No need to be afraid, this brother here is someone you met when you were little.”

Xiao Si Zi peeked at Bai Yutang, then buried half of his face in Gongsun’s shoulder, thinking—Wow, this brother is as good-looking as Zhan Zhao!

Bai Yutang turned to leave, but Wei Hong stepped forward, blocking him. “You are the prime suspect! You cannot leave!”

Bai Yutang’s gaze turned cold.

Zhan Zhao waved a hand. “Relax, don’t be so impulsive.”

Bai Yutang looked at him—This Southern Hero is unexpectedly… cheerful.

With some reluctance, he said, “I was just passing through. You all continue your business.”

Wei Hong, seething, shouted, “If you have nothing to hide, prove it!”

Bai Yutang sighed in frustration. “If I really wanted revenge, I would have killed you directly. I wouldn’t waste time on small fry.”

The crowd turned to Zhan Zhao—This sounds familiar!

Zhan Zhao looked to the sky—As expected!

With tension rising, it seemed a confrontation was inevitable…