The youths from the Ancient Qilin Clan watched silently, then burst into a clamor.

"Didn't Li Tianming grow up in the Grand-Orient Realm?"

"That's right. Qin Feng said he was only at the eighth level of Heavenly Will, but how could he be so strong?"

"Where's Qin Feng?"

"Qin Feng! Qin Feng!"

Everyone began looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. He had probably left ages ago. Among the remaining hundred or so people, the Qin brothers were probably the strongest among them. The saints wouldn't have bothered wasting a whole month insulting a Heavenly Will brat, after all. As such, after the three brothers were defeated, nobody else dared to step out.

As they were still standing there, dazed, Tianming looked around and said, "Curse all you want. I'll make sure to remember you. As long as I can recognize you, you'll end up like this sooner or later. I’ll beat up all of you youths from the Ancient Qilin Clan in half a year. Make sure to line up for it. I won't kill you, but you must pay for the profanities your mouths utter. That's all. Keep cursing if you're dissatisfied."

He didn't care if they continued or not. He would simply vent on them if they were those he could defeat, or wait until he was stronger for...