Then, with a swift movement, he appeared directly on the roof of the shrine's main hall. With a tap of his toes, the entire hall snapped in two and collapsed with a crash.

Smoke and dust billowed into the sky.

Zhang Shaozhong stood atop the ruins, his right hand flipping, and chaotic energy condensed into a ten-zhang-long giant writing brush, its strokes like iron hooks and silver lines, flowing like dragons and phoenixes—

Swish swish swish swish!

In the very center of the ruins, four large characters are deeply engraved into the ground, each stroke sparking with fire:

Sick Man of the East

"The handwriting is a bit ugly, but it'll do."

He casually tossed the huge pen aside, like throwing away trash.

In the distance, a television helicopter finally approached nervously, its searchlight shining down and capturing the scene perfectly.

The young man in white, standing on the shattered palace grounds with his back to the blood-stained words, gave the camera the middle finger.

The live broadcast worldwide was so spectacular that the visuals were absolutely stunning.

...

"knock off."

Zhang Shao clapped his hands, turned around, and returned to the two women's side.

Ling Qingxue looked at him, hesitating to speak: "Husband, you..."

"Don't worry, if you haven't had enough killing, come again next time."

Ye Meier jumped up and down excitedly: "I'm going back to open a jar of wine to celebrate! We won't leave until we're drunk!"

Zhang Shaozhong put his arms around the two women's shoulders and laughed loudly: "Let's go home! Tonight's dual cultivation will be double the fun!"

"Pooh!"

"You filthy scoundrel!"

Both women blushed and spat at him, but neither of them actually broke free.

The three walked away, their figures quickly disappearing into the gray sky.

Only the four large characters etched into the earth behind him remained, reflecting eerily under the searchlight, like four resounding slaps that silenced the entire Japanese cultivation world.