Seeing this, Shi Jing eyes grew cold, and with his 'spiritual sense', he could see that they were still in the body tempering realm.
The highest of which is Fang Zheng, being at Fifth Stage Body Tempering.
This amused him as he shook his head.
Shi Jing didn't answer his question and said.
"This is my courtyard, get out while I am still in a good mood."
This attitude and words caused the group to burst into laughter.
"Did you hear that, Senior Brother Fang? This beggar wants us to leave!" One of the disciples snickered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Does he even know who we are?"
Fang Zheng's expression darkened, his chest puffing out with pride. "Ignorant fool! Do you see these robes?"
He gestured to the cloud embroidery on his white garments.
"We are disciples of the Sword Cloud Manor! I am Fang Zheng, a Fifth Stage Body Tempering disciple personally invited by Senior Ming Feng!!"
The other disciples nodded smugly.
What is this group of clown? Fang Zheng fame is his fame, why are you acting like its yours?
"Senior Brother Fang is being too kind," another disciple chimed in. "Why waste words on this trash?"
"Look at his dirty clothes, messy hair, sleeping in the dirt like a wild animal. He's probably some servant who got kicked out and is squatting here illegally."
"Exactly! Senior Brother, why don't we just throw him out? The Ming family won't mind if we clean up their property for them," a third voice added with a cruel grin.
"Clowns!" Shi Jing sneered, not paying this group of children any attention.
Fang Zheng stepped forward, his Inner Qi flaring slightly, but it barely left the surface of his skin before being retracted.
This was the limit of Inner Qi.
"You dare speak to disciples of the Sword Cloud Manor with such insolence? Kowtow three times and perhaps I'll let you crawl away with your limbs intact!"
The group spread out in a semicircle, clearly intending to surround Shi Jing.
Their confidence was absolute, after all, what could a beggar possibly do against cultivators from the prestigious Sword Cloud Manor?
"Look at him trembling," One disciple laughed. "I bet he's never even seen a real cultivator before!"
But Shi Jing wasn't trembling.
Through his spiritual sense, he could observe their movement down to the minute details.
These weren't even worthy opponents, merely ants trying to shake a mountain!
A cold smile spread across his lips as he slowly stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes with deliberate calm.
At the same time, he could vaguely sense another presence not far from him. His eyes lit up unnoticeably then returned to normal, pretending to not notice this presence.
"Sword Cloud Manor disciples?" Shi Jing's voice was ice-cold, carrying an authority that made the autumn air seem even chillier.
"How disappointing. I expected better from disciples of such a 'prestigious' sect."
This was true before he reached Qi-Refinement realm, and this was true before he comprehended his first Major mastery sword art!
Fang Zheng's face flushed red with rage. "You—how dare you mock the Sword Cloud Manor! Brothers, teach this dog some respect!"
The disciples charged forward with angry shouts, their crude sword techniques flashing in the morning light.
But to Shi Jing's spiritual sense, their movements were laughably slow and their sword work filled with openings.
Facing them, he didn't even need a weapon.
With a casual step to the side, Shi Jing moved like autumn wind itself.
His hand shot out, faster than their eyes could follow and touched each attacker's wrist in quick succession.
There was no visible force or dramatic explosion, just a gentle contact that seemed almost playful.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The sound of wrist bones snapping echoed through the courtyard.
"AHHHHH!" The disciples screamed in unison, their swords clattering to the ground as they clutched their shattered wrists.
They fell to their knees, faces pale with shock and agony.
Fang Zheng stood frozen, his mouth agape. "I-Impossible! You're just a beggar! How did you—"
The moment Fang Zheng flared his inner qi, Shi Jing has already grasped their exact body tempering stage.
"Fifth Stage Body Tempering," Shi Jing said casually, as if it was not worth mentioning in front of him, "I wonder how that compare to the entirety of the Sword Cloud Manor?"
Without warning, Shi Jing appeared directly in front of Fang Zheng. The disciple hadn't even seen him move.
"To me," Shi Jing continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than any shout, "You are all dogs barking at the wrong tree!"
"If this is all that the Sword Cloud Manor can manage, then I am disappointed..." He sighed, shaking his head.
Before Fang Zheng could react, Shi Jing's palm pressed against his chest.
There was a brief moment of contact, then Fang Zheng flew backward like a broken kite, crashing through the courtyard wall and landing in a crumpled heap thirty feet away.
The remaining disciples, still holding their broken wrists, stared in absolute terror.
The arrogance had completely drained from their faces, replaced by the pale complexion of prey animals who had suddenly realized they were facing a apex predator.
"Senior... Senior Brother Fang!" one of them stammered, but Fang Zheng could only groan weakly from the rubble.
Shi Jing dusted off his hands and looked down at the trembling disciples with the same expression one might use when observing particularly annoying insects.
"Get up," he said calmly, "I believe I told you to leave while I was still in a good mood." His eyes glinted mischievously.
"My mood is still good."
The disciples didn't need to be told twice.
They scrambled to their feet, abandoning their weapons and their pride as they rushed to collect their barely conscious senior brother.
"Wait," He said, stopping them as they step outside his courtyard entrance.
This single word became the word of death, and for a moment, they held their breath.