Chapter 36

Qing Song Dao Ren silently made up his mind and decided not to linger in this place. After all, he had been publicly embarrassed by his junior disciple Qing Xuan. Even if Qing Song Dao Ren was broad-minded, there was no need to show this to his disciples. After finishing his words, Qing Song Dao Ren waved his sleeve, and with a whoosh, his figure rose into the air. With one leap, he disappeared between the houses, leaving behind a group of stunned disciples, including Zheng Biao and his companions.

Oh—

Seeing a turn of events and Qing Song Dao Ren's hands-off approach, the disciples of Qing Yun Temple immediately cheered and rushed back, standing neatly behind their junior uncle Ye Qingxuan. Unlike the earlier chaos, they clearly regarded their junior uncle as their leader and mainstay.

I hope my stubbornness just now won't make Third Senior Brother unhappy. Qingxuan was silent in his heart but did not regret it. Sometimes, one has to fight and strive... If one dares not to act just because the opponent has deep inner strength, then there would be no more grudges and disputes in this world. With conflicts, as long as everyone shows their martial arts level, the one with higher rank and deeper inner strength would win directly. Why bother practicing swords and martial arts?

He glanced at Ma Yunyong, who was full of anticipation, and then at Zheng Biao, who looked bewildered. Ye Qingxuan asked loudly, "Do you—still wish to compete?"

"Report to Uncle—Nephew is willing!" Taking a deep breath, Ma Yunyong straightened his bent waist, raised his head, and stood tall like a victorious general.

Zheng Biao was stunned, then roared, "Whoever doesn't compete is a bastard—"

"Good, good—Yunyong, Uncle will help you, fight on."

"Thank you, Uncle—"

Ma Yunyong straightened his back, shouted at Zheng Biao, "San Biaozi, I'm coming—" and with a sudden burst of energy, charged forward like a bear.

Even though Zheng Biao was prepared, he was still shocked by Ma Yunyong's sudden ferocity. He dodged left and right in a panic, but in his haste, he was hit on the shoulder, his entire arm went numb, and he lost the strength to fight back, looking quite miserable.

However, the gap in strength could not be made up by courage. Although Ma Yunyong landed a punch, Zheng Biao took the opportunity to calm down and focus on defending against Ma Yunyong's attacks. As a martial artist, when he concentrated on dodging, Ma Yunyong found it difficult to hit him again. After a while, once Zheng Biao recovered, he immediately launched a counterattack.

With the [Swift Swallow Piercing Cloud Palm], Zheng Biao struck Ma Yunyong repeatedly, and in an instant, Ma Yunyong was knocked to the ground again.

Seeing Ma Yunyong fall again, even Ye Qingxuan felt a tightening in his heart. He calmed himself but showed no reaction, watching quietly as Ma Yunyong stood up again and was knocked down once more.

There were still martial arts being taught in the temple, but this Ma Yunyong, who usually practiced martial arts carelessly, relied on his good physical condition and a fierce spirit, and was always arrogant among the disciples. Today, when compared to a true martial artist, he was indeed powerless... If there had been no conflict, Ma Yunyong might not have repented... The outcome of this competition was not important, because no matter the result, Qing Yun Temple would gain a good disciple.

"Junior Uncle—"

Suddenly, Ye Qingxuan felt his sleeve tighten. He turned around and saw Lin Yuncong, who was always inseparable from Ma Yunyong.

Little Yuncong, with tears in his eyes, almost cried, "Junior Uncle, please, don't let Yunyong fight anymore, he can't win—"

Gently patting Yuncong's head, Ye Qingxuan replied softly, "Don't worry, Yuncong, the big bearded one, he won't lose—"

The battle in the field was already one-sided.

No matter how fierce Ma Yunyong was, he could not even touch a piece of Zheng Biao's clothing. He kept getting up, falling down, getting up again, and falling down again...

Blood flowed continuously from Ma Yunyong's mouth, his breathing sounded like an old windbox, wheezing with each breath, and blood gushed out with each exhalation. His body was numb, his limbs almost lost all sensation, and who knew how many bones were broken. His body was covered in wounds, and his face was unrecognizable, with his left eyelid swollen to a slit... Even so, every time Ma Yunyong fell, he struggled to stand up again, relying not just on willpower but on a deep-seated instinct: to stand up...

"Why?" Zheng Biao landed a fierce punch on Ma Yunyong's face, sending him flying, and two teeth fell to the ground. Blood dripped from Zheng Biao's fist, which was trembling.

Zheng Biao himself was almost out of energy, but this bastard seemed to have endless energy and willpower, standing up again and again.

"Why?" Another punch. At this point, no martial arts were needed, just continuous punches.

"Why? Why don't you admit defeat? You clearly have no strength to fight back, are you really not afraid of death?"

Zheng Biao didn't understand, really didn't understand. It was just admitting defeat, what couldn't be accepted? He had lost many times before, and the worst that could happen was to go home and practice, then come back to compete...

Why be so stubborn?

"Hum... hum," Ma Yunyong shakily stood up again, coughing up a few mouthfuls of blood, and mumbled with his already unclear voice, "Do... do you see it?"

"See what?"

"Behind me, and the plaque on the door..."

Zheng Biao looked around, seeing the sorrowful expressions of the Qing Yun Temple disciples. Beyond the crowd, there was a plaque hanging on the lintel.

"Qing Yun Temple!" Zheng Biao muttered.

"Yes... yes—Qing Yun Temple—" Ma Yunyong struggled to lift his head, his almost closed eyes shining with a light he had never seen before: "My junior uncle said, under this plaque, there are only men who fall, not cowards who admit defeat—"

Zheng Biao was instantly stunned—his fist stopped involuntarily, and the only words he heard were Ma Yunyong's, "Only men who fall, not cowards who admit defeat—" Big idiot, is this your obsession?

Ma Yunyong's words not only shocked Zheng Biao but also the dozen or so Qing Yun Temple disciples beside him.

Lin Yuncong covered his little mouth, tears streaming down his face.

Ye Qingxuan's heart ached, never expecting that a casual remark of his years ago had become Ma Yunyong's persistence for so many years...

"Besides..." Ma Yunyong's eyes showed a hint of mockery, "How can I lose to a woman—"

Nonsense!

Big idiot, you damn fool! Even today, you still look down on me. Even though I beat you to a pulp, you still look down on me... Years of resentment welled up in Zheng Biao's heart, and he unleashed his anger on Ma Yunyong...

Nonsense ideals, nonsense persistence, in this world, only strength matters...

Zheng Biao's fists rained down on Ma Yunyong's body, thud, thud, thud, thud, Ma Yunyong's body trembled as if electrocuted... Zheng Biao, fueled by hatred, each punch carried inner strength, each punch was heavy...

But Ma Yunyong never fell—

"Admit defeat? Bastard—admit defeat now..."

Zheng Biao roared.

I won't hold back, I have to win—

Zheng Biao's strength was rapidly draining, and his inner strength was already exhausted in the long battle.

Now— he could only punch like an ordinary person, punch, punch, punch—

Suddenly—

Zheng Biao's hands tightened, and his flailing hands were firmly caught by his opponent, who seemed like a rag doll...

On a face swollen like a pig's head, a pair of eyes, reduced to slits, now gleamed with mockery.

"Ah ha—rabbit caught!"

Zheng Biao was shocked and struggled fiercely...

But his hands were like being clamped by a vise, unable to break free.

"Have you had enough? It's my turn to act—"

Ma Yunyong's arms suddenly exerted force, and he roared, "Die—"

Ah—

A loud roar.

Zheng Biao felt an irresistible force surge through his arms, and the world turned upside down.

With a whoosh, Zheng Biao was suddenly lifted—

Boom—

Zheng Biao was thrown to the ground with a heavy thud.

Everyone's hearts skipped a beat, feeling the ground shake from the impact.

Pfft—

A mouthful of blood spurted from Zheng Biao's mouth. The force was too great, causing him to suffer internal injuries instantly.

Lying on the ground, Zheng Biao struggled to get up but could not. His strength was completely drained, and he had no energy left. That Ma Yunyong—his strength was that of a beast—

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