Chapter 576: Both Fist and Flying Sword Are Mine

Chapter 576: Both Fist and Flying Sword Are Mine

Pang Yuanji was stunned for a moment, then raised his thumb at the young man in blue robes.

Anyone who dared speak to him, Pang Yuanji, like this in the Sword Qi Great Wall—a place where there were few things in abundance except for sword cultivators—had to at least be a Nascent Soul sword cultivator to start.

It wasn't that Pang Yuanji looked down on the outsider who had already won two matches in a row.

Rather, Pang Yuanji simply looked down on the entire Haoran Heaven.

More than this contempt, the dominant emotion was disgust, mixed with a trace of natural hostility.

If it weren't for the sword cultivators of Beiju Continent—A Liang, Zuo You, and others like them—Pang Yuanji would have even hated that utterly unfamiliar, prosperous, and peaceful world.

So this young sword cultivator, considered the most suitable match for Ning Yao on the Sword Qi Great Wall, said no more.

Pang Yuanji downed the wine in his bowl in one gulp, then stood up, left the table, and slowly walked into the street.

The one-eyed, bearded man remained expressionless, simply continuing to drink.

Pang Yuanji had no interest in romantic affairs between men and women. He couldn't care less about whom Ning Yao liked.

What Pang Yuanji cared about was only his identity as a sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall and as a disciple of the Hidden Officer.

The greatest commonality between these two was that they were exiles and refugees of Haoran Heaven. This was a brand that had existed for ten thousand years. The old great sword immortal on the city wall lived alone in a thatched hut and never spoke, but after ten thousand years, the young people all harbored resentment!

After stepping onto the street, Pang Yuanji's expression turned solemn. It was hard to imagine this was a young man only twenty-five years old. "Chen Ping'an, I have no grudge against you, but I have a great grudge against Haoran Heaven."

Perhaps on the mountains of Haoran Heaven, at this age, even if one were only a Cave Abode or Viewing the Sea realm cultivator, they would already be a direct descendant of an ordinary immortal sect's ancestral hall, surrounded by stars.

On the mortal side, they might be a young talented scholar who had passed the imperial exams, enjoying the glory of bringing honor to their family, just beginning their official career, full of vigor and high spirits.

But here, in Pang Yuanji's homeland, someone had once said this was a place where even birds wouldn't shit. Because the sword qi was too heavy, birds were hard to find—truly pitiable. Then that drunken man, surrounded by many children and youths, said that if they ever had the chance, they must go to Hanging Mountain, and then to places even farther. In any continent there, beautiful girls were easy to find, guaranteeing that no one would end up as a bachelor.

Here, any child, as long as they weren't blind, would see more sword immortals in their lifetime than there were upper-five-realm cultivators in all of Haoran Heaven.

Because here, you might run into a sword immortal buying wine or drinking on the street, and you'd often see sword immortals riding their swords toward the city wall.

Chen Ping'an smiled. "I have no grudge against you, Pang Yuanji, but I do have a problem with a certain way of putting things."

The taverns and restaurants on both sides of the street grew increasingly animated in their discussions.

Even those young sword cultivators from Beiju Continent, who back home each thought themselves above everyone else, upon arriving at the Sword Qi Great Wall, had never dared to act or speak in such a manner on their first visit.

Over time, they might become sworn brothers or continue to have conflicts and arrange sparring matches over a disagreement, but in the last hundred years, there really hadn't been such a blunt young man.

Beiju Continent was the continent with the most dealings with the Sword Qi Great Wall. But before coming here to train, young people would be admonished by their sect elders—different people, different tones, but the meaning was roughly the same: when they got to the Sword Qi Great Wall, they should curb their tempers, be patient, and unless it involved major principles, not speak rashly or draw their swords recklessly. The Sword Qi Great Wall had very few rules, and precisely because of that, getting into trouble there was especially tricky.

Perhaps the only thing that made Beiju Continent sword cultivators so cautious was the Sword Qi Great Wall, which seemed to be sandwiched between the two worlds.

Dong Bude, round-faced, stood on the second floor, surrounded by a large group of women her age, along with some unformed, still childish girls. Most of them had shining eyes, looking at Pang Yuanji—since Sister Ning didn't like him, they still had a chance.

Dong Bude was actually a little worried, afraid that her single-minded brother would get caught up in some inexplicable melee.

On Qi Shou's side, there was also his own small clique. Whether in terms of the family power behind the young people or the accumulated combat strength of the young sword cultivators, they were not inferior to Ning Yao's group, and perhaps even superior. Ren Yi, who had sulkily fled in shame, was just one guy gone. If a conflict broke out, it would be a real fight.

So besides worry, Dong Bude was also rubbing her hands, eager to try.

She was Dong Huafu's elder sister after all.

A girl with baby fat stood on her tiptoes, leaning on the windowsill, nodding vigorously. "This guy is actually quite handsome. You all can go ahead and like Pang Yuanji to your heart's content. I'm going to like this guy named Chen Ping'an from today onwards. Sister Dong, if Sister Ning ever dumps him, remember to tell me immediately, so I can make my move. Might as well get married early. The wedding clothes at the Jiao Mountain Tower shop are really beautiful, and they feel so smooth."

Dong Bude lifted her leg and kicked the girl's butt, laughing. "Usually, girls who can't think straight are the ones going crazy for a man, but you're the one going crazy for a wedding dress."

The girl rubbed her bottom, her slender shoulders swaying as she pushed a snickering friend away, shouting, "Sister Dong, my mother said that you're the one who can't think straight, the old maid!"

Dong Bude smiled broadly and said, "Oh, is that so?" Then she reached out, grabbed the little girl's head, and bumped it against the windowsill with a thumping sound. "Old maid, huh?"

After Dong Bude let go, the girl rubbed her forehead, turned around, and grinned. "Young girl, young girl, Sister Dong is forever eighteen."

In her heart, the girl grumbled: more like forever eighty, the old maid.

But Dong Bude grabbed her head again and gave it another round of knocks. "Eighty, huh? With thoughts like that written all over your face, do you think I can't see?"

Dong Bude suddenly let go. "I knew it. Qi Shou went to so much trouble; he wouldn't just let Pang Yuanji steal this chance to shine."

The girl forgot to argue with Dong Bude and quickly pushed aside the annoying head of the girl beside her, craning her neck to look. In a worldly-wise tone, she said, "If I were Qi Shou, I'd have flipped the table and started fighting long ago."

From a tavern at the end of the street, someone appeared on the road. It was Qi Shou.

Tall and imposing, with an air of dignity, he wore a long gown and carried a sword on his back—neat and sharp.

Qi Shou smiled. "Yuanji, this is practically my family affair. Let me handle it, or people might mistake me for a coward hiding in his shell."

Pang Yuanji turned his head, looking somewhat troubled.

Qi Shou's gaze slid past Pang Yuanji, landing on that bare-fisted outsider military artist. Not old, supposedly from a small place like Vase Bottle Continent. He had come to the Sword Qi Great Wall about ten years ago, but had been hiding on the city wall practicing his fists, resulting in three consecutive losses to Cao Ci. That was one of two things worth mentioning about him. The other—more widely circulated among women—was a joke that came from the Dong family: Ning Yao said she could beat a hundred Chen Ping'ans with one hand.

Losing to Cao Ci or being teased by Ning Yao—neither was really shameful.

But Qi Shou was deeply uncomfortable when he heard it.

Pang Yuanji smiled. "Between you and me, only one can make a move. Why don't we use this opportunity to first decide who's better, and then decide who gets to receive the guest?"

Qi Shou hesitated.

Whistles rose and fell, urging the two to fight it out first. Some were already planning to set up betting pools for wins and losses, and how many moves it would take to decide. These tricks were all learned from A Liang. A gambling table often had a dozen different betting options. As A Liang put it: "Take a gamble, turn toilet paper into silk. Place a bet, make a bald man grow hair."

Earlier, when that outsider named Chen made his move, the gambling pools among the bachelors and gamblers mostly just bet on whether he would even step out the door. Hardly anyone expected much more. Who would have thought that not only did he step out, but he also fought two matches and won both? Only then did everyone realize that without A Liang running the gambling, it just wasn't as interesting. In the old days, when A Liang ran the table, everyone who gambled had a blast, win or lose, though his gambling ethics were admittedly a bit poor. One year, A Liang teamed up with a respected old gambler to swindle people. The old man would repeatedly bet small to win big, raking in piles of money. Then, one time, most people followed the old man's bet, vowing to make A Liang lose even his pants on the table. But A Liang not only won back his losses in one go but also earned enough for half a year's drinking money.

Only afterward did people learn that the "poor old man" who had "collapsed unconscious under the gambling table" had actually walked away with a huge share of the profits—dozens of Grain Rain coins. He first went into hiding, then on a quiet night, A Liang secretly escorted him all the way to the gate, where they parted reluctantly. If it weren't for an old woman in the Sword Room who couldn't stand it anymore and spilled the beans, those gamblers—young and old, big and small—who had shared in that devastating loss would still be in the dark to this day.

Even so, the men of the Sword Qi Great Wall felt that without that damned guy, their daily drinking had lost a lot of fun.

Chen Ping'an had observed the brief movements of both Pang Yuanji and Qi Shou: their stride size, the weight of their steps, muscle relaxation, qi fluctuations, breathing rhythm.

Just a few glances.

Based only on what he saw, and not on what he had heard, Pang Yuanji seemed more seasoned and harder to read. Of course, it could also be that Qi Shou didn't bother to disguise himself at all, or that his disguise was simply better.

This was pure habit for Chen Ping'an—keeping himself busy when he had nothing else to do.

Chen Ping'an wasn't in a hurry at all. He gently twisted his wrist.

He would let Pang Yuanji and Qi Shou work out a result first.

Who went first or later didn't matter.

It was simply a matter of choosing the most suitable plan from a dozen predetermined strategies—that simple.

On both sides of the street, people noticed that the young outsider had actually closed his eyes to rest.

One hand behind his back, the other clenched into a fist pressed against his abdomen.

Dressed in blue robes, with a jade hairpin in his hair, and a slender build.

So it gave off a bit of an elegant, graceful air.

Shouts and curses rose all around, but the applause was noticeably louder.

Ning Yao had eyes for no one else.

Diezhang gently tugged at Ning Yao's sleeve—the dark green robe.

When Sister Ning left Haoran Heaven, she wore this outfit. When she returned, it was the same. Although a dharma robe had its advantages, always wearing the same thing made her seem less like a woman.

Ning Yao turned her head. "What is it?"

Diezhang pointed her chin at the distant figure and then raised her thumb.

Ning Yao's face was stern, one eyebrow raised.

It seemed that everything that guy did on the street was just natural and proper to Chen Ping'an.

I, Ning Yao, am not at all surprised.

If you find it strange, it's only because you're not me.

Chen Sanqiu lightly patted Yan Zhuo's cheek. "Someone sure put on a good show of boxing in the practice ground."

Yan Zhuo slapped Chen Sanqiu's hand away, self-satisfied. "What did I say earlier? A true grandmaster of martial arts. My eye for talent, tsk tsk."

Dong Huafu said gloomily, "Ren Yi and Pu Yu were clearly sent by Qi Shou on purpose, so no one could find fault. Ren Yi is a young Dragon Gate realm sword cultivator with a fast flying sword. If Chen Ping'an lost, he'd lose all face. If he beat Ren Yi, then Pu Yu is the most flashy among the Golden Core cultivators. Beating Pu Yu would make him let his guard down. Then Qi Shou—full of schemes—would finish off Chen Ping'an, maximizing his gains. It's a trap, one thing leading to another."

Yan Zhuo rolled his eyes. "We all know that, you charcoal-head Dong."

Dong Huafu said, "I'm afraid Qi Shou will lose his mind and go for the kill."

Chen Sanqiu nodded. "That's the real problem."

Because among the three people on the street, aside from Pang Yuanji—who had gone from watching the excitement to becoming the excitement himself—only Chen Ping'an and Qi Shou were left. This was no longer just a clash of egos among young people of similar age. Chen Ping'an really shouldn't have mentioned Ning Yao and the Dragon-Slaying Platform, which gave Qi Shou an excuse to break the rules. It involved matters between a man and a woman, and also involved family. If Qi Shou struck ruthlessly this time, the elders of the big families might not be pleased, but if he struck softly, that would be even worse. Anyone with common sense knew how to choose.

Yan Zhuo rubbed his chin. "That's true. My brother Ping'an made a small oversight there."

Among their group, Dong Huafu looked the dimmest, but he wasn't truly stupid—he just usually couldn't be bothered to think.

Of course, Dong Huafu was probably still a notch below him, Yan Zhuo, maybe about as much as one Chen Sanqiu.

Chen Sanqiu thought for a moment, then smiled. "Forget all this messy stuff. Since Chen Ping'an dared to say it, dared to name names and call out Qi Shou and Pang Yuanji one after another, like ordering dishes, then I recognize him as a friend. Because I wouldn't dare. What's the point of making friends? Besides freeloading food and drink, it's to do things that you can't do yourself but your friends can. Gathering a bunch of lackeys and sycophants—I don't have the face for that. If Qi Shou dares to break the rules, we're not here to twiddle our thumbs. We'll fight our way through. Dong Huafu, you pretend to be wounded halfway through, and your sister will definitely step in to help. Once she does, her friends, for the sake of loyalty, will also join in. Even if it's just for show, it'll be enough to make Qi Shou's cronies choke on their wine."

But Ning Yao said, "Qi Shou is already quite a bit stronger than you all. A hair's breadth difference—let alone you few—even if I'm far away, I might not be able to stop him. So I'll watch where Qi Shou chooses to fight. If he deliberately lures Chen Ping'an toward Diezhang's shop, that means he's going to strike hard. Anyway, none of you need to intervene. Just watch the show. Besides, Chen Ping'an might not even give Qi Shou the chance to hold a sword. He should already sense something is off."

Ning Yao glanced at the sword on Qi Shou's back.

Chen Sanqiu was speechless.

Diezhang was anxious.

She knew she was the least skilled in matters like this.

Sometimes, Diezhang, with her delicate and sensitive heart, had to admit that the offspring of the major clans like Chen Sanqiu—if they were good-natured, it was fine. But if they were smart and used their intelligence the wrong way, they could be truly wicked.

Because they had a higher vantage point, allowing them from a young age to view those complicated people and affairs that only made Diezhang's head spin, and they could even pick out the most critical threads, unraveling them to solve many problems at once.

A Liang once said this was also a form of swordplay in the world.

A Liang also said to Diezhang: "When you befriend people like Chen Sanqiu, watch and learn. You'll probably have to overcome two hurdles. If you do, you'll stay friends for a long time. If you don't, eventually, without any separation by life or death, you'll naturally find less and less to say to each other, going from close friends to mere acquaintances. This isn't a particularly beautiful outcome, and it's no one's fault. When that day comes, just drink. A beautiful woman who drinks often can keep her pretty face and slim figure forever."

Ning Yao suddenly turned her head and asked, "Do you think Chen Ping'an is definitely going to lose?"

Chen Sanqiu sighed helplessly. "If I'm lying, I'd say Chen Ping'an can take down Qi Shou with one hand. To be honest, if Qi Shou didn't have that sword on his back, I'd say Chen Ping'an has some chance."

Ning Yao made no comment.

She looked toward a certain spot and frowned.

On the ridge of a restaurant roof sat a little girl in loose black robes, with two playful and cute horn-shaped buns on her head. She had been yawning for a while.

She seemed a bit impatient and finally couldn't help speaking out. "Pang Yuanji, stop dragging it out like you're breaking a piece of shit into several pieces. How embarrassing! First take down Qi Shou, then fight that who's-it, and be done with it?!"

Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao both looked toward the rooftop at almost the same time.

That was a powerful existence that seemed completely unreliable, but one punch from her could tear the flesh and open the skin of a Flying Ascension realm great demon.

The Dong clan sword cultivators' notoriously bad tempers could only rank second on the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Because of her.

Chen Ping'an had personally witnessed her "falling straight down" from the city wall and then going to "play and frolic" with a great demon that had approached the Sword Qi Great Wall.

That was a genuine Immortal realm demonic creature, but the old great sword immortal said that since she hadn't managed to kill it, she considered herself to have lost.

On the street, aside from Ning Yao, a few sword immortals who deliberately ignored the "little girl," and of course Chen Ping'an, almost everyone's hair stood on end.

No one was foolish enough to start a conversation or ingratiate themselves.

"Hidden Officer" was not her name but an ancient official title passed down through generations, recorded nowhere. It was responsible for military supervision and punishment on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Throughout history, many Hidden Officers had been incompetent or puppets. But after she took over the title, the Sword Qi Great Wall lost all its contempt for the office. Not only had she killed the most mid-five-realm demonic creatures, but also, on the southern battlefield over the past millennium, many sword cultivators on her own side who had shown cowardice had been killed by her fist, their flesh flying and dying on the spot.

Back during the Thirteen Disputes, the first combatant from the Sword Qi Great Wall was exactly this Hidden Officer, famous even in the Wild Continent. When one of the demonic beasts, a great demon known for hand-to-hand combat across an entire continent, saw her, it surrendered outright and ran away. Then the two sides watched as a little girl rampaged across the battlefield, pounding heaven and earth for a full quarter-hour.

Pang Yuanji nodded. "Yes, Master."

But Qi Shou clasped his fists and bowed his head. "I beg of you, Hidden Officer, let me make the first move. Regardless of the outcome, I will still fight Yuanji, even if it means life or death."

The Hidden Officer's eyes lit up. She waved her hand vigorously. "That works. Hurry up, fight, fight! Just go all out and fight to the death. I'll make sure the rules are kept. I'm the fairest when it comes to fighting."

Then she looked toward the table where Pang Yuanji had been drinking earlier, scrunching up her small face. "That blind fool over there, toss over a jug of wine. If you don't show me the respect, I'll pound you..."

In an instant, the entire tavern exploded with a bang. Roof tiles scattered everywhere, the interior was a mess, and all the sword cultivators inside, large and small, had already passed out cold. Looking again, the bearded man, a Jade Purity realm sword immortal, had been kicked in the head by her, sending him flying straight into the wall. Covered in dust, he got up and didn't return to the tavern. She stood on the only intact table, lightly stomped her foot, and a wine jug bounced up into her hand. She sniffed it, grimaced, and said, "Smells like piss, but at least it's wine, it's wine!"

At the end, this lofty Hidden Officer actually looked somewhat gritted-teethed and sorrowful.

The moment the Hidden Officer left the rooftop,

Chen Ping'an took a step forward, but immediately retracted it. Then he looked at Qi Shou, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Pang Yuanji leaned back, drifting back to the ruined tavern. He raised a hand to catch a falling tile, smiling. "Master, the old great sword immortal said you're not allowed to drink."

The Hidden Officer roared angrily, "I just smelled it! What's wrong with that? Is it against the law? Who's in charge of punishment on the Sword Qi Great Wall? That old bastard Chen Qingdu?"

In an instant, she slumped weakly on the table, tossing the wine jug to Pang Yuanji. "Keep it for me for now."

Chen Ping'an turned his head.

A streak of rainbow light flashed past his ear. Just the sword qi alone cut a thin wound across Chen Ping'an's face.

He slightly bent his waist, toes pressing down. His figure vanished. The ground instantly split into a huge spider web. Not only that, but it was as if waves of muffled thunder were echoing deep underground.

A blue-clad figure on the street, far from where he had stood, suddenly tilted sideways. Another streak of sword light flashed by even faster. If he hadn't dodged, the sword light would have pierced straight through his back.

The Hidden Officer sat at the table, nodding lightly as a small acknowledgment that the two juniors hadn't yet decided the outcome. Bored, she raised both hands, grabbed her two horn-shaped buns, and shook them gently.

Pang Yuanji stood respectfully beside her, speaking softly. "Master, can Golden Body realm martial artists from Haoran Heaven really run this fast?"

The Hidden Officer thought for a moment and gave an answer she thought was very insightful: "Probably maybe relatively rare."

Pang Yuanji was used to this.

But there was a question that truly puzzled Pang Yuanji. Using mind voice, he said, "Master seems to have a bad impression of Chen Ping'an?"

The Hidden Officer pouted. "Anyone that Chen Qingdu looks favorably upon, I look unfavorably upon."

She flicked her finger. A Nascent Soul sword immortal from another continent who had accidentally overheard her words on the street was struck on the forehead as if by thunder. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground. He wouldn't be getting out of bed for at least ten days or half a month. Lying flat and being waited on, turning a guest into a host—how nice. She thought she was just so considerate and good-tempered.

The Hidden Officer suddenly said, "Based on the martial realm this so-and-so has shown so far, he actually shouldn't have been able to dodge two flying swords. He mainly relied on guessing."

Pang Yuanji smiled. "Qi Shou hasn't gone all out either."

The Hidden Officer looked a little disappointed. "Boring."

She stood up, changing her mind, and shouted, "Keep going! I'm not going to bother with you all anymore. Remember this: a fight that doesn't involve life or death is never a good fight."

The Hidden Officer vanished in an instant.

Only her disciple was left, smiling bitterly.

Pang Yuanji composed himself and looked toward the street.

Qi Shou remained perfectly still, while the blue-clad figure was closing the distance.

In all fights under heaven, qi refiners feared sword cultivators the most, and sword cultivators feared pure martial artists getting close the least.

Especially Qi Shou.

Because Qi Shou's natal flying swords were not just one. The one already revealed was named "Flying Kite."

And the faster one, "Heartstring," was waiting for a Golden Body realm martial artist to foolishly charge in.

Yan Zhuo watched with a pounding heart. Diezhang and the others also looked somewhat unnatural.

Ning Yao's heart remained as still as water. Most immersed in the situation, she was paradoxically the most like an outsider.

This was probably where she differed from Chen Ping'an. Chen Ping'an was always burdened with thoughts, while Ning Yao was always decisive and crisp.

As he unleashed his second natal flying sword, Qi Shou felt a little regret.

The Qi family sword cultivators had always excelled in small-scale combat, especially in swift decisive engagements at close quarters.

The flying sword Heartstring was always fast and accurate.

Only ten paces separated them.

Even if the blue-clad figure had dodged the fatal strike, he still couldn't escape having his shoulder pierced, and his movements would inevitably slow slightly. In that instant, the natal sword "Flying Kite" would graze Chen Ping'an's neck.

It was as if the blue-clad figure was completely enveloped by the flowing light of the two flying swords, trapped in a cage.

Just when many onlookers thought the outcome was decided, Chen Ping'an vanished into thin air.

Qi Shou remained as immovable as a mountain.

His third and most enigmatic natal flying sword, "Jumping Pearl," split into two, two into four, four into eight, and so on, weaving a web around Qi Shou. At every intersection of the web, a "Jumping Pearl" flying sword, an inch or so long, hovered. Unlike the Golden Core sword cultivator earlier, whose swords relied purely on reality and illusion, this Jumping Pearl's transformations and proliferations were completely real. The Qi family ancestor was quite pleased, believing that this flying sword was the one Qi Shou could truly refine over thousands of years and rely on for life. After all, a natal flying sword that could achieve true offense and defense, the higher the owner's realm, the more numerous the Jumping Pearls became, drawing closer to an immortal artifact. Once Qi Shou could sustain a formation of several thousand Jumping Pearls, it would validate the auspicious prophecy of an ancient Daoist sage: "Sit amidst the starry river, rain falls upon the mortal world."

Chen Ping'an appeared five steps to Qi Shou's side, seeming to retreat in the face of difficulty, once again employing the immortal technique of shrinking the earth.

Qi Shou knew the guy would appear behind him. With a faint hum from several key acupoints, the Jumping Pearls, which had been fewer in number behind him, multiplied in an instant like scattering beans to become soldiers.

At the same time, the flying sword Heartstring, naturally able to track an enemy's soul, followed the blue-clad figure like a shadow, while Flying Kite moved even more freely.

Qi Shou wanted to stand still and toy with this guy, making him run in circles.

A Golden Body realm martial artist?

If you set yourself against me, Qi Shou, you're just a dog on a leash.

He was completely unharmed.

The other side kept throwing punches, moving and dodging for ages, eventually exhausting himself. Fun, wasn't it?

Qi Shou thought it was very fun.

Yan Zhuo murmured, "If this keeps up, the situation is bad. Although Flying Kite is pretty much like that—can't do much more—if I'm not mistaken, Qi Shou can now sustain at least five hundred Jumping Pearls. Right now, he has less than three hundred. And the longer it drags on, the more Heartstring gets familiar with Chen Ping'an's soul, and it'll only get faster. It's really fast. That guy's heart is truly black; he's clearly doing it on purpose."

Chen Sanqiu smiled bitterly. "With so many flying swords and good coordination, it's just unbeatable."

As he said this, Chen Sanqiu couldn't help but glance at Ning Yao's back.

The battle on the far side was one-sided, and she remained unmoved.

The blue-clad figure, which appeared extremely battered to onlookers, suddenly stopped. The fist intent flowing through him was so fierce and swift that it was almost visible, an almost tangible gathering of aura. Even some lower-five-realm cultivators could see it clearly.

Qi Shou, his back to Chen Ping'an, didn't hesitate. He didn't pursue an overly perfect victory of remaining motionless. Taking a step forward, he faced Ning Yao's group and directly shot off several tens of feet. The Jumping Pearls arrayed in a small ten-foot space increased again, making the sword formation denser and heavier.

A fist pursued him.

As Qi Shou turned around, his mood grew heavier. He chose to retreat again. But in the eyes of onlookers, Qi Shou seemed to still be strolling leisurely, utterly at ease.

Flying Kite and Heartstring.

Both were hit by two streaks of sword light that appeared out of nowhere.

Those two inexplicably appearing flying swords were nothing more than flashy pillows. They only slightly impeded the attack of Flying Kite and Heartstring before being knocked away.

But that was enough.

Qi Shou watched as the blue-clad figure, with a single punch, broke through the Jumping Pearl sword formation. His opponent's fist was a bloody mess, bone visible.

That, too, only slowed things slightly.

But it was enough for Qi Shou to unleash Flying Kite and Heartstring. The faster Heartstring traced a subtle arc, its tip aimed an inch below Chen Ping'an's heart. After all, he wasn't trying to kill him. If Chen Ping'an died or was half-dead, Qi Shou would be the loser. A worthless life, having come this far by luck—it wasn't worth making Qi Shou a laughingstock.

Flying Kite stabbed toward the blue-clad figure's spine from behind.

Qi Shou wanted to see, after those two swords had pierced through the Golden Body realm martial artist's body, how much strength would be left in that fist.

A sword cultivator's physique, refined day and night by their natal flying sword, was among the toughest of all qi refiners, almost comparable to that of military strategists.

With three natal flying swords, Qi Shou's physique was extraordinarily resilient, which was only natural.

In an instant, relying on instinct, Qi Shou channeled the abundant qi in all his key qi mansions. Within his personal small heaven and earth, a water mansion steamed with clouds and mist, a mountain was shrouded in vegetation, and several other acupoints housing natal objects each displayed strange phenomena. So much qi leaked out of his personal small heaven and earth that Qi Shou became enveloped in a layer of brilliant, dazzling light. His eyes rippled with golden light.

It turned out that Chen Ping'an not only had two illusionary flying swords for show but also had a genuine natal flying sword—a dark green sword light, extremely fast. It met Heartstring tip-to-tip, and both deviated, as if actively making way for Chen Ping'an to continue his punch!

And the Flying Kite behind the blue-clad figure never managed to catch up and pierce his spine.

After the fist that had stripped the flesh from his bones,

Though blood oozed from the corner of Qi Shou's mouth, he was inwardly somewhat relieved.

Not bad.

The punch wasn't heavy.

Using the cavalry wedge formation charge as an opening.

Followed by a divine drum-beating strike.

Qi Shou's vision blurred. Even though he had used the force of the opponent's punch to leap back and then sidestep, another unreasonable punch landed on him. Not only did Flying Kite fail to catch up, but even Heartstring, which was linked to his mind, seemed somewhat bewildered. Then it was caught again by that dark green sword light. On the street in midair, the two streaks of sword light tangled endlessly. Each collision sent out ripples of qi at varying heights, full of killing intent yet a pleasure to behold.

"Isn't my brother a fourth-realm qi refiner?"

"Why does this guy have three flying swords?"

Yan Zhuo and Chen Sanqiu looked at each other, each with their own doubts.

The wheel of fortune turned. Qi Shou, once riding high, was finally forced to flee in exhaustion. A Golden Core peak sword cultivator with extremely rich combat experience was reduced to trading blows with his fists.

It wasn't that he had no power to resist.

After two punches landed on him, Qi Shou's qi mansion aura grew even denser. Using his solid physical foundation, he clashed fists with the relentless Chen Ping'an several times head-on. Then Qi Shou started getting ruthless, exchanging blows with the guy. One punch made the opponent's head wobble violently, but the other remained indifferent, seemingly oblivious to pain. Each time he threw a punch, he didn't bother choosing a spot to land it, as if just hitting Qi Shou was enough.

Heartstring was fast enough, but it was constantly countered by that dark green flying sword.

Flying Kite was always a hair too slow.

In sword cultivator combat, a hair's breadth was always a world of difference.

The Jumping Pearl sword formation was already on the verge of collapse, posing less and less threat to the elusive blue-clad figure.

The spectators on both sides finally came to their senses and began to savor the situation. A commotion arose.

After fifteen punches,

Qi Shou, forced to do so, took a punch straight to the back and slid back more than a dozen feet, scraping along the ground. In the process, however, a soldier's armor pill slid out of Qi Shou's sleeve, instantly clad in golden armor. But even so, the moment Qi Shou slapped the ground to get up, he took another punch that was destined to land on him. The blue-clad figure, almost leaning forward and charging along the ground, slammed a fist into Qi Shou's face, sending him—still wearing the soldier's armor and inner dharma robe—skidding along the ground again.

This seventeenth punch was so powerful that Qi Shou crashed to the ground, bounced up, and then was hit again by the guy's swinging arm.

This punch struck solidly, blood gushing from Qi Shou's seven orifices.

Pang Yuanji sighed. Qi Shou should probably withdraw first, then truly draw his sword.

Apart from their natal flying swords, any sword cultivator who carried a sword on their person—and wasn't just wearing it as a pointless decoration—effectively represented two types of sword cultivators in one person.

Just when everyone was puzzled as to why the blue-clad figure suddenly stopped,

A moment later, a "Qi Shou" appeared thirty steps away from the Qi Shou on the ground.

His yin spirit had left his body and traveled through the world.

Qi Shou had clearly used a secret technique. For ordinary cultivators, the departure of the yin spirit would be a minute disturbance, but to the many sword cultivators most adept at detecting qi fluctuations, even the slightest movement would be noticed.

Qi Shou's yin spirit was expressionless. He reached out and grabbed.

The long sword rang as it left its sheath, grasped in his hand.

One of the Qi family's half-immortal swords, named "High Candle."

According to legend, the true essence of this half-immortal sword was once the spine of a fire deity of the ancient heavenly court, which had fallen to the mortal world. It was discovered by chance by the Qi family ancestor, who painstakingly refined it for over a hundred years.

At Qi Shou's birth, he became the new master of this half-immortal sword.

After Qi Shou's yin spirit grasped High Candle, he asked, "Still fighting?"

What happened next made not only the spectators, who had long forgotten to drink, but even Diezhang's eyelids twitch.

Chen Ping'an's right hand—fleshless, bone exposed—curled its five fingers into a claw, grabbing the body of Qi Shou's true form on the ground. Slowly lifting it, he tossed it carelessly toward Qi Shou's yin spirit.

Chen Ping'an stood upright, still with his left hand behind his back and his right fist in front.

Blood dripped from the entire mangled arm, trickling down the bone fingers to the ground.

Qi Shou's yin spirit didn't hesitate even a moment. It returned to the body, floating down.

Chen Ping'an raised that horrific arm and said calmly, "Come."

A pillar of golden light shot into the sky from the Ning Mansion in the distance, accompanied by thunderous sounds. It tore through the air and was caught lightly by Chen Ping'an.

That golden line, starting from the Ning Mansion and ending on this street, was extremely striking. Because the sword qi was so dense and astonishing, even though the sword was already in the blue-clad sword cultivator's hand, the golden line remained condensed, never dispersing.

Qi Shou, not bothering to wipe the blood from his face, instantly turned livid. "Who lent you an immortal sword?!"

The sword in his hand—the immortal sword named Sword Immortal—seemed to be rejoicing at a long-lost battle, trembling incessantly, constantly emitting wisps of golden light.

This made the blue-clad sword cultivator seem as though he held a great sun in his hand.

High Candle?

How high can a candle's flame be?

When a great sun hangs in the sky, what dares to compete with it in height?

The young man in blue robes, carefree in demeanor, smiled. "If you weren't named Qi, you'd still be lying on the ground sleeping right now. It's because you were born into a good family that you have a half-immortal sword. I'm different from you. I earned this Sword Immortal with my life."

With that, Chen Ping'an's smile faded. "Qi Shou on the southern battlefield lives up to the Qi name. But the fight still needs to happen. As long as you dare to draw your sword."

Just then, the bearded man, who had somehow returned to the tavern and sat down, set down a large white bowl he had picked up from the ground and filled with wine. He said to Qi Shou, "If you lose, you have to admit it. There's no precedent for a direct descendant of the Qi family dying north of the city wall."

Qi Shou raised his hand to sheathe his sword behind his back. As he walked past the blue-clad figure, brushing shoulders, he said, "Dare to set a time for another battle?"

He had the potential to become the first among his peers on the Sword Qi Great Wall to break into the Nascent Soul realm, even faster than Ning Yao.

Because Ning Yao had too many things to do, too grand in scale. It wasn't a matter of qi refinement—that was never an issue for her. Rather, she needed to refine objects, which had always slowed down her breakthrough speed.

But if he, Qi Shou, could break into Nascent Soul and then fight Chen Ping'an again, there would be no need to talk about odds or winning.

Chen Ping'an countered, "You set the place, I set the time. How about that?"

Qi Shou's Adam's apple bobbed. He almost couldn't hold back the mouthful of blood.

Qi Shou said no more. Instead of flying away, he walked all the way to the end of the street, slowly turning the corner and disappearing.

Behind him, a group of friends followed silently, their faces even uglier than Qi Shou's.

Chen Ping'an glanced at Ning Yao, his eyes narrowing into a smile.

Ning Yao shot him a glare.

Chen Ping'an looked around.

The Sword Qi Great Wall was a strange place. It was the place, aside from his family's ancestral home in his hometown and the later Bamboo Tower on Falls Mountain, where he felt the least constrained.

So it was also the place where Chen Ping'an of Mud Vase Alley, who "feared death," was most bold in throwing punches and drawing his sword.

Because on the Sword Qi Great Wall, things were pure. There were good and evil, joy and anger, but far less complexity than in Haoran Heaven—twists and turns, like thousands of mountains and endless rivers.

On the city wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall, there was also the old great sword immortal who had once spoken to him about "how to be unreasonable." The old man had personally demonstrated: with a casual gesture, a sword qi descended from the sky, instantly killing an upper-five-realm sword cultivator from a major clan.

Here, the old great sword immortal Chen Qingdu was the greatest reason.

Chen Ping'an deeply acknowledged that ancient old immortal. So throwing punches and drawing swords here could reach a dreamlike state he had never achieved before—no worries about consequences, no taboos!

Besides, this was a place where A Liang had spent many years. A place where A Liang stayed, not leaving, drinking so much wine over so many years. If Chen Ping'an's punches weren't heavy enough or his sword wasn't fast enough, he would be letting down this place.

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. He felt a thrill.

But not enough.

Pang Yuanji was about to leave.

But the blue-clad sword cultivator, exactly as before, turned around and smiled at Pang Yuanji.

Pang Yuanji laughed. "Don't you think you're at a disadvantage?"

After a hard-fought battle, the victory hadn't come easily.

Chen Ping'an's subsequent action

made even a few sword immortals not sitting together laugh and drink.

Everyone watched as the man on the street drove the tip of that immortal sword named "Sword Immortal" into the ground, then let go. His right hand extended forward, signaling the other party to go ahead.

Then he said, "I was afraid you'd think you were at a disadvantage."

Pang Yuanji's expression lit up with vigor. He walked out of the tavern with large strides, stood in the middle of the street, clasped his fists, and announced loudly, "Sword Qi Great Wall, Pang Yuanji!"

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then clasped his fists in return and answered with precision: "The one Ning Yao likes, Chen Ping'an."