The laziest boss in Snowmoon City is actually a hidden sword god?

Northward, Snow Moon City.

This magnificent city, hailed as the premier city in the martial arts world, remains as prosperous as ever today.

Shops lined both sides of the street, their cries of vendors rising and falling, while chivalrous heroes rode by on horseback, and talented men and beautiful women leaned on the railings, chatting and laughing.

The air was filled with the aroma of rouge and strong liquor, and the bustling atmosphere exuded the elegance and extravagance of a prosperous era.

However, right at the corner of this prime real estate, there is a small shop called "Evergreen Tavern" that seems out of place.

Unlike other restaurants that are always bustling with customers, this place was eerily quiet.

The afternoon sun dappled through the trees and cast shadows on the threshold. At the entrance of the tavern, a slightly worn bamboo rocking chair creaked and groaned.

A young man dressed in a blue robe was lying on the rocking chair.

A tattered palm-leaf fan covered his face, obscuring his features, revealing only a section of his fair and slender neck and the hem of his clothes swaying gently in the wind.

His breathing was long and shallow, as if it blended into the sound of the wind and falling leaves around him.

Passersby, whether they were wandering knights with swords or scholars on their way to take the imperial examinations, would subconsciously ignore the existence of this tavern when they passed by.

It was as if that place had always been nothingness.

This is an extremely mysterious state—being in harmony with the world, following the natural way.

But if anyone could peer into the depths of this young man's mind, they would be terrified by what they saw!

……

Within Su Changqing's sea of ​​consciousness, there was now a Shura hell of corpses and blood!

Above the endless void, a blood-red giant sword, tens of thousands of feet long, stretched across the sky, its blade crackling with suffocating black lightning.

"The Tribulation of All Gods, Ninth Level..."

Su Changqing's consciousness transformed into a phantom, standing atop the sword's edge, overlooking all living beings.

He was performing a simulation.

As a transmigrator, I have been in this world of martial arts for several years.

Outsiders only saw him as a lazy boss in Snowmoon City, but no one knew that he possessed extraordinary comprehension and, three years ago, during an epiphany, awakened the world-destroying sword technique from his past life's memories—"The Tribulation of Ten Thousand Gods".

This is not martial arts from this world, but a sacred art of slaughter originating from a higher dimension!

"The first move: Heaven and Earth are ruthless."

"The second move is unpredictable and mysterious."

……

Until now, at the ninth level.

His mind was in turmoil. Before the sword could even be unleashed, the mere overflow of sword intent tore countless dark spatial rifts in his consciousness.

"It's still a little short of perfect."

Sitting in the rocking chair, Su Changqing frowned slightly.

This extremely subtle fluctuation instantly shattered the tranquil space of "harmony between man and nature".

Just then—

"Bang!"

With a loud crash, the already flimsy wooden door of the tavern was kicked open, slamming heavily against the wall and kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Where's the boss?! Where the hell is he?!"

This loud shout, like a broken gong, instantly pulled Su Changqing back to reality from his mental exercise.

Su Changqing's deduction was interrupted, and the sword intent within his body, which was powerful enough to change the color of heaven and earth, paused for a moment, and then retreated back to the depths of his dantian like a tide.

He didn't move.

The palm-leaf fan remained covering his face, and only his fingers, resting on the armrest, gently tapped the bamboo chair.

"Who is it... disturbing my peaceful sleep?"

His voice was languid, with a hoarse quality that suggested he hadn't slept well, and it lacked any semblance of warmth or humanity.

Three burly men swaggered in through the doorway.

The leader had a face full of scars, with a hideous scar on his left cheek. He carried a thick-backed nine-ringed broadsword and wore a short jacket embroidered with the word "Black Snake".

Although Snowmoon City has three city lords and excellent public security, there are always some low-class thugs and ruffians who thrive in the shadows.

The Black Snake Gang is the local tyrant of this neighborhood.

Stop pretending to be dead!

The scarred-faced man strode to the rocking chair, looked at Su Changqing lying there motionless, and a savage glint flashed in his eyes: "Time to pay this month's 'peace money'! If I'm in a bad mood, I'll tear this lousy shop down!"

Su Changqing sighed.

He slowly reached out and removed the tattered palm-leaf fan covering his face, revealing a handsome but slightly pale face.

Those eyes were slightly narrowed, unfocused, as if still immersed in the devastating sword strike just now.

"Peaceful money?"

Su Changqing tilted his head and looked at the sky outside. "When did Snow Moon City allow small fry like you to collect protection money? Isn't Sikong Changfeng going to do anything about it?"

They called him by the name of the Gun Immortal!

Scarface was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage: "You little brat, I think you're tired of living! How dare you call the Gun Immortal's name like that? I'll teach you a lesson on behalf of the City Lord's Mansion today!"

Before he finished speaking, Scarface suddenly raised his nine-ringed broadsword, whistling through the air, and slashed down at Su Changqing's shoulder!

Although this strike didn't have any particularly sophisticated techniques, its strength lay in its immense power and force.

If an ordinary person were to receive such a cut, their entire arm would likely be severed.

The two henchmen behind him grinned maliciously, as if they could already see the scene of blood splattering everywhere.

however.

Su Changqing remained lying in the rocking chair, without even changing his posture.

He merely raised his eyelids and glanced indifferently at the falling steel knife.

Just one glance.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

The scarred man suddenly felt an indescribable chill shoot from his tailbone straight to the top of his head!

That's not human eyes.

It was a void abyss, a Damocles' sword hanging overhead, ready to sever eternity at any moment!

There was no fluctuation of internal energy, no crisscrossing sword energy.

"Click—"

A crisp cracking sound rang out sharply in the deathly silent tavern.

The nine-ringed broadsword, crafted from fine steel and weighing forty pounds, suddenly stopped three inches away from Su Changqing's shoulder.

Followed by.

A crack appeared on the blade.

Then came the second, the third... countless cracks instantly covered the entire blade!

"Bang!"

The entire broadsword exploded in mid-air, turning into countless tiny iron fragments that fell like snowflakes.

Su Changqing, however, was completely untouched by dust, not even the hem of his clothes.

"This...this..."

Scarface was left with only a bare knife handle in his hand, completely dumbfounded.

His pupils contracted sharply, and his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

Just a moment ago, he clearly felt death embrace him!

It's not a matter of skill level, but a matter of overwhelming superiority.

It was as if, if the young man in front of him had been willing, what had just shattered would not have been just the knife, but him as a person, along with his soul!

The two henchmen behind him were so frightened that their legs went weak and they collapsed to the ground, their crotches soaked and emitting a foul odor.

"roll."

Su Changqing frowned in disgust and covered his face with the palm-leaf fan again: "Clean the floor before you leave."

The word "Get out" was spoken casually, yet it resounded like a thunderclap in the ears of the three.

Scarface felt like he'd been granted a pardon, and dared not utter another word.

He scrambled to his feet and frantically wiped the floor he had just stepped on with his sleeves, then gathered all the metal shavings into his clothes. Finally, he kowtowed three times to Su Changqing.

As if he had seen a ghost, he dragged his two weak-legged underlings out of the tavern.

It wasn't until he had run two blocks away that Scarface dared to look back at the inconspicuous little tavern, his heart still pounding wildly.

"A monster...that's definitely a monster!"

……

Inside the tavern, peace was restored once more.

Su Changqing yawned and adjusted to a more comfortable position.

"These days, you can't even sleep peacefully."

He silently complained to himself.

Since that enlightenment three years ago, he spent three years in "withering and flourishing meditation". After waking up, although his strength had reached the realm of perfection and even surpassed the so-called "divine travel realm" of this world, he became more and more lazy.

It's not because of despair, but because of being too strong.

He was so powerful that this world of martial arts was like a playground for children.

Instead of vying for the title of "Number One in the World," I might as well lie here, bask in the sun, brew some wine, and, incidentally, push the "Ten Thousand Gods Tribulation" in my head to its ultimate perfection.

"If the final move of the Myriad Gods' Calamity is successful, perhaps it can cleave through the void and allow me to return to Earth?"

The thought flashed through Su Changqing's mind, and then he gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"Forget it, I've already gone through all this time, and I haven't had enough time to enjoy myself yet."

"and……"

Suddenly, a stunningly beautiful yet aloof face, and that snowy night, appeared in his mind.

Su Changqing's gaze softened slightly, but it quickly returned to a state of headache.

"I wonder how that crazy woman is doing now. I left without saying goodbye back then because I had no other choice... Who can control themselves from entering a meditative state and closing their eyes for three years at a time?"

"If she knew I was here, she'd probably tear Snowmoon City down."

Su Changqing shook his head, deciding not to think about these troublesome things.

"I'm bored, I might as well go to sleep."

Just as Su Changqing was about to delve deeper into his consciousness to deduce the unfinished sword move, the light at the tavern entrance was blocked again.

This time, there was no rude kicking of the door, nor any nauseating stench of sweat.

Instead, a refreshing aroma of wine fills the air.

It was a unique fragrance that blended peach blossoms, dew, and aged wine; just one whiff was enough to make one feel as if every pore on one's body was opening up, as if floating on clouds.

Su Changqing didn't open his eyes, but a helpless smile appeared on his lips.

"Here to freeload again?"

The person who arrived was extremely light-footed, landing without a sound, clearly demonstrating a high level of skill in lightness of movement, which had reached a state of perfection.

But he seemed afraid of waking Su Changqing, so he walked very carefully, like a guilty thief.

Su Changqing could clearly sense that the other person stopped three steps away from him, and then seemed to be tidying up his clothes, or perhaps rubbing his hands to relieve tension.

In the entire Snowmoon City, who else but the Great City Lord could possess such lightness skills, be so fond of drinking, and be so shameless?

Su Changqing sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep.

He slowly removed the palm-leaf fan from his face, opened his eyes, and looked at the person who had come.

A man dressed in pure white stood before him.

The man was extremely handsome, with a face like jade and eyes like bright stars. Although he was a man, he possessed a kind of beauty that transcended gender.

He had a white jade wine pot hanging from his waist, and his whole body exuded a free and unrestrained ethereal aura.

It was none other than the world-renowned wine connoisseur, Baili Dongjun!

The usually aloof and revered Lord of Snowmoon City now resembled a deadbeat who had met a creditor, his face plastered with a fawning smile.

"Brother Su, um... do you still have 'Drunken Life, Dreamlike Death'?"