amaotonovel Chapter 320 I only wish my child were foolish and stupid
Chapter 320 I only wish my child were foolish and stupid
Chapter 320 I only wish my child were foolish and stupid
The words “attending the meeting” echoed in the air above Zhizhi Nunnery, carrying an unquestionable declaration and indicating that this was not an ordinary visit, but rather a pre-arranged one.
The newcomer was no ordinary person. Among the martial arts practitioners present, everyone knew that the Wudang Sect was a prestigious sect that had flourished for hundreds of years and held a dominant position in the martial arts world. Feng Daode was the renowned contemporary leader of the Wudang Sect, whose martial arts skills were unfathomable.
Although the Xiandu Sect is less renowned, it is still a legitimate Taoist sect, and its leader, Dong Xuanzi, is famous for his swift and powerful "Two Elements Sword Technique." The fact that masters from these two sects have come together is of great significance and is enough to attract the attention of any martial arts force present.
Lin Zhennan, who had been busy handing out money, suddenly changed his expression and said urgently to Jiang Wen in a low voice, "Zilu, why would Feng Daode of Wudang come here in person? They seem to be enemies, not friends, and they're not easy to bribe..."
He was well aware of the grand style of Wudang, and even more so of the strained relationship between Jiang Wen and him. Now that Feng Daode had come in person, it was as if a boulder had been thrown into a pool of turbulent water.
Jiang Wen remained calm and composed, his gaze still fixed on the direction of the mountain gate, as if he had already anticipated Lin Zhennan's astonishment. He said indifferently, "I invited him by letter."
"what?!"
Lin Zhennan almost lost his voice, looking at Jiang Wen in disbelief—in recent years, the Wudang Sect has been showing its strength, often intervening in local Jianghu disputes, and acting extremely domineeringly. Jiang Wen's move is tantamount to inviting a tiger down the mountain.
"Brother Lin, please be at ease."
Jiang Wen's lips curled into an enigmatic smile, his voice remaining calm and steady.
"You know, even haters are fans, and attention is power. What I want from this martial arts tournament is for the world to be shaken, for everyone to gather here. Therefore, I wrote a letter saying that if they send someone, I can tell them the truth about the deaths of the Eight Immortals Swordsmen..."
Jiang Wen smiled slightly, "I just didn't expect that the leaders of such prestigious sects as Wudang and Xiandu would 'condescend' to grace us with their presence today. Isn't that a wonderful surprise? We can also use their names to make the best impression and further highlight the grandeur of our martial arts tournament."
Before he could finish speaking, solemn and melodious Taoist ritual music rang out outside the mountain gate, and two groups of people slowly walked out from the pervasive silence, following the music.
On the left, a group dressed in Taoist robes walked with steady and firm steps. The leader had an ancient and simple face, a thin face, and eyes as deep as an ancient well. He was Jiang Wen's old acquaintance, Feng Daode, the head of Wudang. The disciples behind him, all wielding swords, all had a dignified demeanor, and the aura of the prestigious Wudang sect was palpable.
The group on the right lagged half a step behind Wudang. The leader, a slender Taoist priest around forty years old, had a long sword hanging from his right waist. His movements carried an air of wind and thunder; he was none other than Dong Xuanzi, a master of the Xiandu Sect renowned for his "Two Elements Sword Technique."
Although the Xiandu Sect is merely a branch of Wudang and far smaller in scale than Wudang, its authentic Taoist foundation and Dongxuanzi's sharp edge should not be underestimated.
The two groups of people, with their distinct ceremonial guards and solemn music, were clearly distinguished from the small sects and wandering martial artists who originally came to the meeting. Now, as they entered the meeting place in front of Zhizhi Temple with great pomp, they naturally brought an invisible sense of pressure.
The once bustling and noisy Zhizhi Nunnery was now completely silent. Whether it was the disciples vying for the arena or the leaders of various sects sitting at the head of the table, all eyes were drawn to the arrival of the two great masters from the major sects. Their faces showed shock and solemnity, knowing in their hearts that the presence of the Wudang Immortal was enough to rewrite the course of this martial arts tournament.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Jiang Wen calmly rose and stepped forward, stopping a few steps away from Feng Daode.
"Sect Leader Feng, Daoist Dongxuan, we apologize for not greeting you properly as you have come from afar," Jiang Wen said in a clear voice, his greeting echoing throughout the entire venue.
Since their parting in Fuzhou, Feng Daode seemed to have made further progress in his martial arts, and perhaps he had found a way to integrate Buddhist and Taoist martial arts. His deep gaze fell on Jiang Wen as if it were a tangible object, flickering like candlelight, and looked on with a chilling intensity.
He nodded slightly and returned the greeting with a bow: "Since Sect Leader Jiang invited us, how could Wudang not come? I have long known that Sect Leader Jiang is extraordinary, and I have also heard of the renowned name of the 'Gentleman Sword.' Please do not blame me for being late."
Feng Daode's voice was calm, yet carried a heavy sense of authority.
Back in Fuzhou, Feng Daode arrogantly addressed Jiang Wen only as "Daoist Master," refusing to acknowledge his status as the leader of the insignificant Wuyi Sect. Now, upon their reunion, Feng Daode readily recognized the sect, clearly indicating that Jiang Wen's reputation in the martial arts world had played a role.
Their eyes met in mid-air, their words revealing a familiarity, and a whisper rippled through the crowd below. Those who overheard Feng Daode's brief remarks—that he was acquainted with Jiang Wen, even before Jiang Wen rose to fame—had a deeper meaning worth pondering.
More importantly, one side is a respected figure who has dominated the martial arts world for many years, while the other side is a rising sect that intends to stir up trouble. Their encounter, which turned into a battle of wits and intrigue, instantly became the undisputed focus of the entire event.
Feng Daode's words, seemingly calm on the surface, actually carried layers of undercurrents. His words were ambiguous, seemingly praising but actually criticizing, as if he did not approve of Jiang Wen's title of "Gentleman Sword" and had no intention of participating in this martial arts tournament, regarding it only as a farce.
But the calm smile on Jiang Wen's face did not fade, as if he had expected the other party to make such a gesture. He turned slightly to the side, made a "please" gesture, and turned his gaze to two ancient osmanthus trees with strong branches and lush canopies not far away.
"Fortunately, we have the opportunity to hear Master Feng's insightful remarks. However, this place is too noisy. How about we take advantage of the cool shade of these two Song Osmanthus trees, and allow me, as a host, to have a detailed discussion with you, Daoist?"
Under the watchful eyes of countless people, the two slowly walked towards the two ancient osmanthus trees that had witnessed hundreds of years of vicissitudes. Immediately, Wudang disciples stood guard behind them, their lush foliage shielding them from most of the noise, creating a tranquil haven beneath the trees.
As soon as he stood still, Feng Daode's deep, candle-like gaze pierced Jiang Wen again. The previous polite and evasive manner vanished instantly, replaced by a heavy questioning.
"Sect Leader Jiang, I have come here today because of the mysterious deaths of Xu Chongzhen and his companion at Jizu Mountain... The entire Wudang sect needs an explanation for this matter."
Upon hearing this, Jiang Wen's expression remained unchanged; in fact, the curve of his lips deepened slightly.
Feng Daode was a master who defected from Shaolin to Wudang. Even though he turned the tide when Wudang was in a period of transition, the internal factional struggles within Wudang would never be extinguished. Even in this special era, his multifaceted identity was the best remedy for all parties.
His support depended on the premise that the Wudang Sect's reputation remained intact and its influence continued to grow. As for sending Wudang disciples to side with the Qing court or participate in the suppression of the rebellion, that was a choice made by the sect elders after a power struggle, and he, as the sect leader, did not need to bear responsibility. The only thing that urgently needed to be addressed was the deaths of the Xu Chongzhen brothers, the Eight Immortals Swordsmen, which caused a certain faction to lose two successors.
Jiang Wen has always been quite adept at understanding people's hearts and schemes, so once again he tricked him into coming over with information. Even though Feng Daode was furious, he had to make a proper decision based on his status as the leader of Wudang.
Thinking of this, Jiang Wen stood with his hands behind his back, his gray robe fluttering slightly in the mountain wind.
"Master Feng, I admire you greatly for traveling a thousand miles to attend this gathering. The explanation you seek will naturally follow, as the martial arts conference is a place to clarify right and wrong. However, if you believe that I or any of your disciples are involved in this matter..."
He paused, then met Feng Daode's gaze, his composure tinged with a sharp edge. "I think Zhizhi Nunnery is a good place. If Headmaster Feng wishes to exchange a few blows, I, Jiang, would be more than happy to oblige."
But unsurprisingly, Feng Daode was not angered by these almost provocative words.
This is understandable. Feng Daode was the only one among the martial arts practitioners present who knew that Jiang Wen's martial arts were unfathomable. Back then, Jiang Wen could easily defeat him even with only one-tenth of his strength, let alone now that he had two-tenths of his strength.
A fleeting, enigmatic expression crossed Feng Daode's lean face, and he suddenly shook his head slowly.
"...This matter is not urgent."
He shifted his gaze slightly, glancing at the slender Taoist priest with a long sword hanging at his waist in front of the Xiandu Sect's ranks not far away.
"On this trip, I, Feng, have brought with me the newly appointed sect leader of the Immortal Capital Sect, Fellow Daoist Dongxuanzi. The Immortal Capital Sect previously had a falling out with the Vajra Sect. Now that Sect Leader Dongxuanzi has just taken charge of the sect, he should take advantage of this opportunity of heroes gathering from all over the world to settle old scores through swordsmanship and to establish the reputation and prestige of the Yin-Yang Sword..."
Upon hearing this, Jiang Wen instantly understood. Feng Daode's trip was ostensibly to investigate the matter of the Eight Immortals Swordsmen, but at this moment he casually mentioned the matter of the new leader of the Xiandu Sect. Obviously, Feng Daode also planned to use this opportunity to make a difference and bring glory to the Xiandu Sect at the Wuyi Mountain Martial Arts Conference!
This is a relatively safe approach, placing Wudang in a relatively detached and superior position, avoiding direct conflict with the host, and instead pushing the sharp "sword" of Dong Xuanzi of the Xiandu Sect directly to the Wuyi Sect and the entire martial arts tournament.
To establish authority, one must have a worthy opponent. Although Feng Daode did not explicitly point to anyone, his intention was clear: the Xiandu Sect he brought was the true "protagonist" he had arranged for this moment, while Jiang Wen and his Wuyi Sect were undoubtedly the most suitable "sharpening stone".
Feng Daode's long sleeves fell down as he continued to ask, "Sect Leader Jiang, the Immortal Capital Sect's Dongxuan Daoist has come from afar; how can he let down the grand Wuyi Assembly in vain?"
His gaze swept across the distant martial arts arena, and his voice was like a resounding chime, "How about this, we'll give face to the host today and not pursue the matter with the Vajra Sect. But since this is such a grand occasion, why not let the disciples of the Immortal Capital Sect spar with your sect's disciples, so that all martial arts practitioners in the world can witness the subtleties of martial arts?"
The mountain breeze rustled through the laurel leaves, and Dong Xuanzi, the leader of the Xiandu Sect, quietly stepped forward and bowed to Jiang Wen. Jiang Wen smiled in response—Jiang Wen had maintained this expression every day for the past few days, and it was almost a permanent part of his smile.
The Xiandu Sect is an orthodox internal martial arts sect, originating from the Wudang Sect, and can be considered a branch of Wudang. It is divided into two branches: ordained disciples and lay disciples. Only ordained disciples can serve as sect leaders. Dongxuan, who is standing in front of us, is a thirteenth-generation Taoist disciple of the Xiandu Sect.
His senior brother, the former sect leader Daoist Shuiyun, was indeed known as the number one expert of the Xiandu Sect. His swordsmanship was complex, sharp and ruthless, but his Dongxuan skill was inferior. He and his secular senior brother Min Zihua each practiced half of the Liangyi Sword Technique. Now he came alone. I don't know where he got the confidence to challenge the Wuyi Sect.
Jiang Wen looked behind Dong Xuanzi, and three disciples in green robes suddenly stepped forward.
All three of them had long, flowing breaths, upright postures like pine trees, heavy steps like mountains, taut shoulders and backs like fully drawn bowstrings, and drooping hands with curled fingers like tigers landing on the ground. Clearly, they were following the path of cultivating both internal and external strength.
Hearing Feng Daode's words and seeing the extraordinary demeanor of the Xiandu Sect, the crowd on the sidelines all praised the sect's profound foundation. Whether they were pretending to be ignorant or not, Jiang Wen was secretly laughing to himself.
The Xiandu Sect was completely eradicated by the Southern Shaolin Temple last year, with all its elders perishing. These three disciples before us have solid foundations and sharp eyes; how could they be trained by a bunch of stray dogs in a short time? Is this Yuri's cloning center? They are clearly from the Wudang Sect!
"What a brilliant scheme of resurrection through possession..."
Jiang Wen sneered as he considered his options.
Feng Daode, using the pretext of the remnant of Xiandu, dispatched Wudang's elite forces. A victory would enhance Xiandu's prestige, while a defeat would not damage his own reputation. This was likely because Feng Daode had witnessed Jiang Wen's martial arts skills but was unaware of the situation of the Wuyi Sect disciples.
It seems that the Wuyi Sect, having been established for less than a year, has already attracted some exceptional talents, but they are still no match for the outstanding talents that the Wudang Sect has carefully cultivated for many years. Therefore, they intend to use this Wuyi Grand Assembly as a stepping stone to heaven.
"It seems that the Dongxuan Sect Leader's forces are indeed full of talented individuals. The Wuyi Sect would be too impolite to refuse them."
Jiang Wenlang laughed and accepted the challenge, but subtly gestured with his fingers behind his back, indicating that Lin Pingzhi and Fu Ningdie should move aside. The other three disciples quickly came over and were called to his ear to receive a few words of advice, as the previous plan had changed and he was to give them a new task.
"This time, Little Stone will lead the charge."
"My good disciple, don't get excited. You're not very familiar with ring fighting, and your kung fu is all about head-on confrontation. Remember to plan before you act."
"—It's not just about winning, but about winning without suffering any damage. That way, you'll save face. Got it?"
………………
A disciple from Xiandu stepped onto the arena with a stern face, his figure as steadfast as a pine tree in the snow. Jiang Wen gave a slight nod, and Little Stone, eager to try, was the first to step onto the stage.
The Xiandu Sect disciple was tall and imposing. When his gaze swept over his short and dull opponent, he paused for a moment, only to find that the child was playing with the hem of his clothes, seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere.
"...Xiandu Sect, Xie Zhiwei. Since you are empty-handed, I will not use weapons to bully you."
He clasped his hands in a fist salute, his voice as clear as gold and jade. He then untied the long sword from his waist and tossed it to his fellow disciples. His upright posture drew cheers from the audience. The Wudang and Xiandu disciples stood up straight, displaying the demeanor of righteous sects.
"My name is Little Stone. I'm not very good at fighting, so you go first."
After the two sides finished their greetings, Xie Zhiwei moved first. He stepped into the Nine Palaces, his palm carrying wind and thunder, and used the "Single Tiger Emerging from the Cave" move of Wudang Tiger Claw Kung Fu. This move seemed peaceful, but in fact it contained a hidden force to dislocate tendons and bones. His five fingers, like hooks, gripped the small stone's Jianjing acupoint. If this grip was firm, it would be enough to make an ordinary strong man feel numb and sore on one side of his body!
Snapped!
The little stone neither dodged nor avoided the grab, taking the blow like a solid wooden stake.
Xie Zhiwei's finger force penetrated, but it felt like kneading a piece of raw cowhide soaked in tung oil—exceptionally smooth and resilient. The expected weakness and numbness in the opponent's muscles and bones did not materialize. He frowned slightly, his move changing with lightning speed. "Single Tiger Emerging from Cave" transformed into "Double Rolling Kanli," and a dense array of palm shadows instantly enveloped Xiao Shitou's vital points in his chest and abdomen!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Another series of muffled thuds!
Little Stone was beaten so badly he looked like a scarecrow in a storm, his small body swaying from side to side, his dark clothes instantly covered with palm prints.
After a whole set of soft palm strikes, Little Stone neither blocked nor retaliated. He just stared blankly with wide eyes, occasionally raising his hand to protect his vital points, as if he had no ability to fight back.
The martial arts practitioners below the stage booed, wondering if Little Stone was too young and timid and had completely forgotten the powerful palm technique he had demonstrated that day. There were also sneers from the Wudang disciples.
"The Wuyi Sect only sent up a sandbag?"
But Xie Zhiwei felt a surge of anger. He realized that his opponent was not powerless to fight back, but rather completely indifferent, as if he were diligently dusting him off.
With a clear whistle, he leaped into the air, his palms overlapping as if embracing Tai Chi. This was the starting stance of the killing move "Wu Wo Xie You" in Shangqing Tai Chi. His internal energy surged, causing his robes to flutter. This strike was meant to break the bones and tendons of this foolish child!
However, just as he was standing in his stance, gathering his strength and his momentum reaching its peak, a fierce, beast-like glint flashed in the depths of Xiao Shitou's dull pupils, who had been passively taking hits all along!
Awoo!
Xie Zhiwei only felt a blur before her eyes, and the short figure darted to her feet at an incredible speed, grabbing a major acupoint with each arm and leaping up!
Immediately following, a heart-wrenching pain shot through his left shoulder and neck! The little stone, like a predatory leopard cub, had bitten into the thickest tendon of his left trapezius muscle!
"Ugh—!"
Xie Zhiwei's screams instantly shattered the noise of the training ground. All notions of "wandering with nature" and the demeanor of a prestigious family were crushed by the excruciating pain!
He instinctively channeled his inner strength and tried to shake off the "monster" hanging on him, but Little Stone's fine iron and copper teeth were already deeply embedded in his flesh, and its biting force was astonishing.
The audience was deathly silent; everyone stared in disbelief at this absurd and horrifying scene.
The Wudang disciple had completely lost his composure, his neck was crooked, and his face was contorted with pain. Meanwhile, the little fool who had been beaten for half a day was biting his shoulder tightly, his feet dangling in mid-air like a sloth with its prey in its jaws.
It is important to know that the trapezius muscle is the key to generating power in the human body. Xie Zhiwei felt that half of his body was numb. His powerful internal force was like a mud ox entering the sea. Unfortunately, Xiao Shitou was short and could not reach him with his hands or kick him with his feet. The more he struggled, the deeper the sharp teeth sank. Warm blood quickly soaked through his blue clothes and then spilled onto the ground of the arena.
"...In the first match, the Wuyi School won."
As Feng Daode announced this with a gloomy expression, Xie Zhiwei also squeezed out a broken roar through clenched teeth, completely losing the last bit of composure a disciple of a prestigious family could muster.
There was no other way. Everyone could see that the last thing he could do was roll on the ground. But he had already tested that tough body and knew that rolling on the ground would only bring more humiliation and damage his reputation.
Upon hearing this, the little stone immediately let go and fell back to the ground with a "plop".
He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth blankly, then returned to his dazed expression, as if the vicious bite had nothing to do with him.
Xie Zhiwei then clutched his bleeding shoulder, where deep teeth marks were visible, and staggered backward. His eyes were filled with fear as he looked at Xiao Shitou, all traces of the composure of a disciple from a prestigious family gone. Only the burning pain in his shoulder reminded him how this duel had ended in such an absurd way.
A murmur arose from the audience.
"This...this is so undignified."
“Kids bite and scratch each other all the time.”
What kind of martial arts does the Wuyi Sect teach?
"We must instruct our disciples to keep their distance when they encounter each other in the martial world."
The discussions among martial arts practitioners were both a disdain for the Wuyi Sect and a mockery of the Wudang Sect, but when they saw Jiang Wen's wicked grin, they knew that he was doing it on purpose.
"Master, I won."
Little Stone came to Jiang Wen's side, looked up and said something. Jiang Wen patted his head.
"...Well done. If it really comes down to a life-or-death struggle, we can gouge out his eyes so he can't keep up with both ends."
As Jiang Wen spoke, he cast a thank-you glance at Fan Xinghan. These past few days, Fan Xinghan had been idle and took the initiative to find Xiao Shitou to teach him the Tiger Claw Grappling Technique. Taking advantage of his short stature, Xiao Shitou had researched several routes for climbing and pinpointing pressure points, which eventually evolved into this biting move.
However, this victory was not very elegant, which reminded Jiang Wen of the doubts raised by the martial arts world the other day, so he quickly instructed the next person.
"Hu Fei, remember what I said about using a sword. You must use a sword!"
"By the way, it would be best to make the other side surrender, the kind of surrender that is truly convinced!"
Just as the discussion was in full swing, the second disciple of the Immortal Capital Sect stepped onto the stage, now showing none of the initial disdain he had displayed—
The humiliation of his fellow disciples' defeat was still fresh in his mind. At this moment, his face was cold and stern, his body was like a taut bow, and his eyes were fixed on the opposite side, on the young man with disheveled hair covering his eyes and a sword hanging at his waist—Hu Fei.
"Ling Xiaohe of the Immortal Capital Sect, please enlighten me!"
Before he finished speaking, Ling Xiaohe had already moved swiftly forward, his long sword humming as it pointed directly at Hu Fei's throat!
The previous defeat had already displeased the sect leader, so Feng Daode instructed his disciples not to test each other when they entered the arena, but to go all out and win the match as quickly as possible.
Once the Shangqing Sword Technique is unleashed, the figure becomes ethereal, and the moves are incredibly strange. This move, "White Rainbow Piercing the Sun," shows no intention of testing the waters. The sword light is swift and unparalleled, carrying a chilling killing intent, which draws gasps from the audience. Just now, before the battle clouds had dissipated, everyone could see that his move was a killing move, intended to end the battle quickly and wash away the previous shame!
His swordsmanship talent was exceptional, unmatched among his peers. Since this contest was about weapons, Ling Yunhe didn't believe his opponent would dare to trade blows with him! As long as his attacks were fierce enough, he could completely suppress his opponent to the limit!
However, Hu Fei's reaction surprised everyone.
He seemed oblivious to the sword's cry and the cold glint of light, standing motionless with his disheveled hair and empty eyes staring ahead. Only his left hand silently flexed and extended its fingers in front of him, calculating.
His thumb, index finger, and middle finger flexed and extended in quick succession, almost leaving afterimages. He seemed to be making very faint counting sounds as he was immersed in a strange state of deduction, completely oblivious to the imminent threat of death.
Ling Yunhe sneered inwardly, thinking that the young man was scared out of his wits. The tip of his sword was only three inches away from Hu Fei's throat, and he was about to stop by striking him with his sword.
In that split second, Hu Fei moved.
His movements were minimal, even somewhat clumsy and sluggish—his right heel shifted slightly to the left and back, his body turning sideways by an inch. The deadly sword strike barely grazed the skin of his neck, the sharp blade even severing a few stray strands of hair!
Ling Yunhe thought Hu Fei was at a loss, and with a sudden thought, he quickly turned his wrist, transforming his sword technique into a "jade belt around the waist," aiming to slash at Hu Fei's ribs. However, Hu Fei seemed to have anticipated this, his upper body leaning back in an extremely awkward way, as if pulled by invisible threads, narrowly avoiding the sword's edge, breaking free from Ling Yunhe's sword technique once again, and without losing his center of gravity, his left hand continued to calculate without stopping for a moment.
Ling Yunhe, realizing he had been tricked, felt extremely frustrated. His swordplay grew faster and faster, unleashing a torrent of exquisite moves from the Shangqing Sword Technique: "Divine Crane Crossing the Clouds," "Immortal Touching the Head," "Drinking Dew and Eating Wind"... The sword light wove together, enveloping Hu Fei within it. Each attack was sharp and cunning, aimed directly at vital points.
But Hu Fei's figure swayed precariously, yet he moved strangely through the net of swords—
He moved like a willow in the wind or a piece of driftwood on the waves, constantly sliding and crouching at incredible angles. Each dodge seemed extremely dangerous, yet it was precise to the millimeter. The long sword hanging at his waist never left its sheath!
The audience below the stage were stunned. Their previous worries about him had vanished, leaving only disbelief and horror.
Meanwhile, cold sweat was already seeping from Ling Yunhe's forehead.
He felt that every sword strike he made was anticipated by his opponent, as if he was not attacking, but dancing his sword according to the trajectory set by his opponent!
Shame and anger burned his reason like flames. He suddenly gathered his true energy, poured all his life's power into the sword, and used his ultimate technique. The long sword wrapped around his arm and turned into a streak of light, bringing with it an overwhelming gale, and slashed straight at Hu Fei's shoulder and arm, sealing off any possibility of dodging!
But just as the sword was about to strike, Hu Fei's left hand, which had been calculating all along, suddenly opened and then clenched into a fist, and his eyes under his disheveled hair suddenly shot out a terrifying light!
"bass!"
The longsword at his waist was finally drawn, emitting a short, soft hum.
The longsword was held in Hu Fei's hand. There was no dazzling sword light, no complicated moves. The ordinary longsword seemed to be casually pushed forward, but the tip of the sword was incredibly precise. Under Ling Yunhe's thunderous force, it touched the Shenmen acupoint on the wrist of the sword-wielding man!
Clang!
A sharp, tingling pain instantly swept over Ling Yunhe's entire right arm. He could no longer hold the longsword, and it fell to the ground. He was horrified and instinctively wanted to back away, but he felt a chill in his throat!
As the sword light faded, Hu Fei's cold blade rested firmly on his carotid artery. A heavy, mountain-like chill emanated from the blade, telling him that the battle was over.
Hong Wending asked Jiang Wendao in a low voice, "Junior Brother Hu's 'How is Mount Tai?' It can even anticipate the enemy's formlessness. It seems to be no less impressive than my 'Heavenly Silkworm Skill'."
Jiang Wen said helplessly, "He's still far from it. I told him to suppress his demonic nature with all his might, but this kid is taking a risky approach and won't make a move unless he's absolutely sure of success. Right now, he's just relying on his fearlessness to fight the other side—I'm really afraid he'll kill himself one day."
"Admit defeat."
Hu Fei's voice was hoarse and low, revealing a calculated indifference.
Ling Yunhe's face turned as red as blood, and his teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.
As a prized disciple of the prestigious Wudang sect, it is not terrible to be defeated by an unknown youth, nor is it terrible to be defeated in such a bizarre way. But to be forced to admit defeat by having a sword pointed at one's throat is an absolute disgrace!
His sect members were still watching from behind, and his strong sense of pride made him stiffen his neck and squeeze out two words through gritted teeth: "...I won't admit it!"
He was thinking about how to escape. He believed that if they fought again, he would not give his opponent any chance. But a fierce, beast-like glint suddenly flashed in Hu Fei's eyes!
"boom!"
Without warning, Hu Fei's left fist slammed into Ling Yunhe's abdomen!
Ling Yunhe felt as if his internal organs had shifted instantly. The intense pain made his vision go black, and he groaned so hard he almost doubled over. If Hu Fei's sword hadn't been at his neck, he would have collapsed to the ground long ago.
"Are you convinced yet?" Hu Fei's voice remained flat and emotionless, as if he were asking for the result of a calculation.
Ling Yunhe was in so much pain that he could barely speak, but the humiliation and stubbornness in his eyes were even stronger.
"boom!"
Another heavy punch landed on the same spot, seemingly with even greater force. Ling Yunhe's body trembled violently, his tongue was bitten, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
"Have you given up yet?" Hu Fei repeated, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, staring intently at the man's contorted, pained face through his disheveled hair.
Ling Yunhe opened his mouth, still trying to hold on, but the cold sword blade and the tearing pain in his abdomen completely shattered his will.
Under Hu Fei's cold, emotionless gaze, a gaze that seemed solely focused on calculation, fear finally overwhelmed his shame. He nodded with difficulty and extreme weakness, squeezing out a broken syllable from deep within his throat:
"……Clothes……"
Upon hearing this, the fierce light in Hu Fei's eyes receded like a tide, and he returned to his wooden and empty expression.
He slowly sheathed his sword, not even glancing at Ling Yunhe, who lay slumped on the ground, his face ashen. He turned and silently walked off the stage, leaving behind only the deathly silent crowd of martial arts heroes and the Wudang disciple on the stage, whose expression was a mixture of suppressed pain and shame.