"What the hell is up with these kids?!"
Zheng Wu widened his eyes, scrambled up from the ground, and marched back toward the main street.
The impact from earlier had hit him hard—literally.
He swore to get to the bottom of this.
When he hurried back to the street, the children were still playing around. His gaze locked onto the little boy who had sent him flying moments ago.
After staring until his eyes practically crossed, his body finally shuddered.
He had finally seen through the boy.
The kid was actually in the same realm as him—Dao Fusion.
"Unbelievable! First that damn skeleton, and now another Dao Fusion expert stronger than me!"
"And of course, I had to run into both of them."
Zheng Wu’s face darkened with frustration.
Still, at least he had an answer now. Knowing he’d been knocked flat by someone stronger eased his bruised ego—just a tiny bit.
"I wonder how old this Dao Fusion expert really is."
Zheng Wu stroked his chin, speculating.
"An expert couldn’t have come from the Nine Realms. So the birth of the Saint isn’t just drawing people from the Heavenly Domain—others are eyeing this prize too!"
"That means this must be a powerhouse from another land. The Nine Realms are clearly simmering with hidden currents."
"As for his age… there’s no way he’s actually a child. He must be an ancient monster even older than me, disguising himself for some reason!"
"Yes, that’s definitely it!"
Zheng Wu was convinced of his theory.
Sure, an old monster pretending to be a kid and playing ball with other children still sounded bizarre, but it was the best explanation he had.
Then, the next moment, he witnessed something that made his scalp crawl.
The kid’s nose dripped with snot, the slimy trail dangling right above his lip—before he slurped it back up with a loud HZZZT!
Zheng Wu’s stomach churned, his toes curling in disgust.
His rock-solid theory instantly crumbled.
An old monster disguising himself as a child to play ball? Fine, maybe he was just eccentric.
But a Dao Fusion Realm ancient monster noisily sucking back his own snot? That was where he drew the line.
"What… what in the heavens is going on here?!"
Zheng Wu’s mind short-circuited, his voice trembling as he muttered, "Could this actually be… a seven- or eight-year-old Dao Fusion expert?"
The thought struck him like lightning.
Immediately, he shifted his focus to the other children, scrutinizing them one by one.
After a thorough inspection, his hands shook as he reached the horrifying conclusion.
Every single one of these ball-playing brats was a Dao Fusion Realm expert.
"Oh, heavens above, what has the world come to?!"
Zheng Wu howled at the sky.
He had spent tens of thousands of years cultivating diligently—and that was with his exceptional talent—just to reach the Dao Fusion Realm.
Yet here was a bunch of snot-nosed brats who hadn’t even grown body hair yet, already at his level.
And yes, he knew they hadn’t grown body hair.
Because he saw it with his own eyes.
Right now, the boys were lined up, letting loose a three-foot arc of piss into the wind.
Sure, one old monster pretending to be a kid and slurping snot was weird but plausible.
But a whole group of ancient elders disguising themselves as children just to pee together?
This was undeniably a pack of actual children.
A gang of eight-year-old Dao Fusion experts—this defied all logic.
Suddenly, Zheng Wu remembered something.
He whipped his head toward the rest of the street.
If these kids were all Dao Fusion experts—and it had taken him forever to see through them—what about the vendors and pedestrians?
He stared for a long, long time.
Though he still couldn’t pierce their disguises, he noticed something else—the items they casually used were all treasures, so ridiculously valuable it made his head spin.
He pulled out his own most prized artifact, only to watch in horror as the once-majestic treasure now looked dull and lifeless in his hand.
Like a sheep stumbling into a den of wolves.
His heart pounded. Even without confirming their cultivation, the sheer abundance of these treasures told him everything—his earlier assumptions had been laughably naive.
Frantic, he made inquiries up and down the street. Then, with a resolute breath, he made a life-altering decision.
By the dung pit, the disciples of the Three Lives Sect waited eagerly.
The moment they spotted their patriarch returning, they dropped their shovels and hurried to greet him.