Chapter 956: Another Punch
Before the wind could swirl, before people’s eyes could blink, before gasps could escape their throats.
That blade had already arrived before Xuan Yuan Po’s neck, and it seemed his throat was about to be severed, his head about to fall.
The demon court official had prepared himself in advance, yet he was shocked to discover that Nie Chi’s blade was even faster than he had anticipated, and he himself could not stop it in time. The minor official behind the table had also steeled himself mentally, but still found it hard to suppress the joy within him—though the smile had yet to reach his face.
It was an extremely brief fragment of time, too short for sound to travel. All around the arena was silent, filled with an atmosphere of terror.
What finally broke the silence and restored the normal flow of time was an exceptionally clear sound.
It was not the swish of a blade, nor the thud of a head hitting the ground. It was a dull, muffled *thump*.
Like a ripe fruit falling onto hard ground, smashing into a pulp.
Like a wineskin full of liquor being squashed flat by the chieftain of the Xiang tribe sitting down on it.
More than anything, it sounded like a fist slamming heavily into muddy earth.
Yes, this sound was the most fitting, because that was exactly what had happened.
Nie Chi’s iron blade was as fast as lightning, but Xuan Yuan Po’s fist was even faster.
His fist was so fast that no one could see it—not even a trace of an afterimage.
When the iron blade was still half a foot from his neck, his fist had already smashed into Nie Chi’s face.
An unimaginable force, carried by the fist, landed completely.
Nie Chi’s face began to deform. His nose bridge caved in, his eye sockets cracked, his jaw split apart, and countless streams of blood burst outward like blooming petals.
Beneath Xuan Yuan Po’s fist, his face looked like a pool of mud.
His neck bones snapped almost simultaneously. His head flipped backward and hung over his back.
It looked like a heavy red fruit dangling from a branch.
The scene was eerie and utterly horrifying.
True to his reputation as a long-established demon clan powerhouse, Nie Chi did not die immediately. From his shattered throat bones came an unintelligible sound. He swayed several times on the arena platform before finally crashing to the ground, accompanied by the splattering of foul, disgusting fluids, and then he died.
Above and below the arena, there was dead silence. No sound at all.
The Li clan steward stared at Xuan Yuan Po, his expression dazed.
The commoners who had not yet had time to cry out stood frozen, their faces blank, having forgotten to scream.
The minor official, who had been about to celebrate Xuan Yuan Po’s death, finally let his smile appear—but it was uglier than a grimace.
Xuan Yuan Po looked at his own fist, slightly stunned.
Then he looked at Nie Chi’s corpse and shook his head, saying, “You were too fast.”
He had not intended to kill anyone when he came to the Heavenly Selection Ceremony today.
But his opponent’s blade had come too quickly, and the killing intent had been too fierce.
How does one turn strength into speed? How does one push speed to its limit?
Bie Yang Hong had said: don’t be too deliberate.
Let it rise with the heart’s intent.
Let it fall with the heart’s intent.
Though there had been no formal ceremony, Xuan Yuan Po had once taken Luo Luo as his teacher, and Luo Luo was Chen Chang Sheng’s only female student.
Thus, he was already a disciple of the old temple lineage in Xining Town. Moreover, he was a student of the National Academy and had lived with Chen Chang Sheng for a long time.
Whether it was “following the heart’s intent” or “obeying the heart’s intent,” both were about cultivating the heart’s intent—and the heart’s intent was the only Dao method in the world that could not be cultivated.
When he said his opponent’s blade was too fast, he was not being sarcastic; he was stating the truth.
That blade was so fast that he had no time to think, no time to plan—he could only act on instinct.
No need for thought; action precedes intention—that was the true meaning of “following the heart’s intent.”
……
……
Xuan Yuan Po stepped down from the arena.
The watching crowd parted like a tide, automatically making way.
The demon court official, watching Xuan Yuan Po’s figure, raised an eyebrow slightly and summoned a subordinate, ordering him to investigate Xuan Yuan Po’s background.
During the first match, Xuan Yuan Po had stunned that Xiang tribe youth with sheer strength, which had already shocked him and the Elder Council official.
But that was nothing compared to the shock this match brought him.
Because Nie Chi was a true demon clan powerhouse.
When the demon court official saw Nie Chi’s lightning-fast blade, he was even more certain that even he himself was no match for Nie Chi.
Yet Nie Chi had been defeated by this bear clan youth’s fist!
If Nie Chi was a true powerhouse, then what was this bear clan youth?
……
……
Xuan Yuan Po walked over to the small table.
This was the third time today he had come to this small table.
The expression of the official he knew had also changed many times.
At first, the minor official’s face was full of contempt and mockery. Then came shock and avoidance. After that, humiliation and resentment.
Now, the minor official’s face was deathly pale, as if he had caught a chill, yet he was sweating profusely.
Especially when Xuan Yuan Po stood before the table and his shadow fell upon him, the official’s sweat poured like juice, instantly soaking his clothes through.
A clerk standing nearby watched with concern and asked, “Cao Si, are you alright?”
It was only then that Xuan Yuan Po learned the minor official’s name.
The minor official mumbled a few incoherent replies, raised his sleeve to wipe his sweat continuously, but could not clean it off.
Xuan Yuan Po knew why he was like this, but paid it no mind. After confirming the registry, he left on his own.
The minor official lifted his head, watching Xuan Yuan Po’s retreating back, and involuntarily recalled the words he had spoken two days ago in that small tavern.
He had been very drunk then and had forgotten many things. But after all the frights today, every single word had come back to him.
“Isn’t this just a waste!”
“And you actually believe a waste like him bragging? A Tianhai family expert… might as well say it’s Tian Hai Sheng Xue!”
“Hey, bear cub, stop right there!”
“Look at his hands—this is a waste, no strength at all. He’s only fit to wash dishes, and he calls himself the steward of the National Academy?”
“That’s the National Academy! If you had that kind of skill, would you still be here washing dishes?”
Thinking about how he had hurled so many insults at this man that day, his sweat flowed even faster.
When he remembered that he had even spat in front of this man that day, he felt dizzy, on the verge of fainting.
Xuan Yuan Po walked out of the crowd, reached a street corner, and took out a beef bun from a paper bag to eat.
After the first match ended, he realized that fighting was indeed very draining, so he had gone to the bun shop and bought the last steamer of beef buns.
Sure enough, even though he had only thrown two punches so far, he felt extremely hungry.
The buns had gone cold, the meat juice slightly congealed, and they weren’t very tasty, but he ate them with great focus.
The people watched him with equal focus.
Fierce matches were still ongoing on the arena, but no one paid them any attention anymore.
All eyes were fixed on the street outside, on Xuan Yuan Po, on his hands.
As if the meat bun in his hand was the most delicious thing in the world.