Chapter 37

Yun Yong laughed heartily, dragging his body, bending down, and grabbing Zheng Sanpao by the back of the neck. With a single effort, Zheng Sanpao's entire upper body was pulled back unnaturally.

Just now, the fall was severe. Half of Zheng Sanpao's face hit the ground first, scraping the skin and knocking out a tooth. His mouth was full of blood, and he felt dizzy, with a buzzing sound like a drum in his ears. Instinctively, he clawed and pushed forward.

"I told you, winning you is as easy as winning a woman—"

Yun Yong raised his fist, the size of a sand bowl, and punched Zheng Biao's nose with a thunderous blow.

Bang!

Zheng Biao's nasal bone shattered, and thick blood splattered out like an overturned soy sauce bottle.

His neck snapped backward, his eyes rolled up, and the poor Zheng Sanpao was knocked unconscious by Ma Sanpao.

"Kid, now you know the power of your Uncle Ma, don't you."

Yun Yong let go, and Zheng Biao's unconscious body fell to the ground.

Absolute strength plus absolute will, in the end, overcame skill and cultivation.

"Yun Yong, well done—"

The disciples of Qingyun Temple rushed over.

Seeing his junior uncle in the distance give him a thumbs-up and smile, the unspoken words were clear—well done.

Yun Yong, though his body felt like it was splitting, couldn't hide his smile. He gave a thumbs-up to his junior uncle—“I won.” Then, his consciousness relaxed, and he felt the world spin before his eyes went black, and he collapsed, losing consciousness.

"Yun Yong—"

Ye Qingxuan was greatly alarmed, quickly using his inner strength to rush over.

After a brief examination, he finally relaxed.

Although his body was severely injured, it was mostly external and bone injuries, with no serious internal damage, so there was no need to worry about any lingering effects. He then took a pill from his pocket and put it in Yun Yong's mouth.

He then said to the surrounding disciples, "Take the big beard back to his room and let him rest well."

"Yes, Junior Uncle—"

Watching the disciples carefully carry Yun Yong back to the temple, Ye Qingxuan couldn't help but sigh. It seems my decision today was right. The disciples of Qingyun Temple are united, and it's starting to look like a proper place. Yun Yong is a good one, worth cultivating.

Ye Qingxuan pondered for a moment, then turned and walked to where Zheng Biao lay on the ground.

Although Zheng Biao was aggressive, it was ultimately the result of a child's boundless energy and poor supervision by his elders. Moreover, this unlucky boy, at just a dozen years old, could already master a white-level martial art so well, showing some talent. What was particularly commendable was that, despite being a rich kid, he was brave enough to admit defeat without any pretense, showing a certain straightforward and decisive nature.

It's better to resolve conflicts than to create enmity. For the sake of Yun Yong, I'll be the good guy this time. There's no need to create an unnecessary enemy because of a child's competitive spirit.

Given the future prospects of Qingyun Temple, there will be no shortage of enemies. Why add more trouble?

The few servants Zheng Biao brought were now in a panic, fumbling to take their young master away for medical treatment.

Seeing the little Taoist approaching, the servants became highly alert, fearing he might harm their young master.

"This little Taoist, what are you going to do? My young master is the son of the Zheng family in Qingyang Town. If you can spare him, do so. Don't do anything rash."

One of the servants, who had been more daring earlier, trembled and shouted, but his voice was shaky and weak.

It's not their fault. After all, I am a martial artist, and these ordinary people who haven't entered the path of martial cultivation naturally feel fear.

Ye Qingxuan smiled faintly and said calmly, "Don't worry, I'll just take a look—"

Ignoring the servants' wary expressions, Ye Qingxuan walked directly to Zheng Biao.

At this moment, Zheng Biao's nasal bone was collapsed, his face covered in blood, and he was unconscious.

Ye Qingxuan found two willow branches, inserted them into his nose, and straightened the nasal bone. Then he took a green pill from his pocket and put it in Zheng Biao's mouth.

"This, this is—?" The servants clearly wanted to stop him but hesitated and didn't dare to step forward.

"Don't worry, it's a healing pill, not a poison—"

Sighing inwardly, this "Herb Pill," though only a white-level pill, has the function of removing internal injuries and slightly gathering qi. It was hard-earned from his master, and he hadn't used it himself, yet he used it to help others. It's easy to come by but hard to part with.

Gently massaging Zheng Biao's chest to distribute the medicine, it wasn't long before Zheng Biao regained consciousness.

Looking at the little Taoist in front of him, knowing it was the highly respected junior uncle, Zheng Biao didn't thank him but sighed, dejectedly saying, "Sigh, I never thought I'd lose to that big fool again—"

"Mr. Zheng, you're joking—"

Seeing Zheng Biao's puzzled face, Ye Qingxuan smiled gently, "Actually, neither of you lost. You both won, you won against yourselves—this is good—after all, you're still young... there's plenty of time to lose."

Patted Zheng Biao on the shoulder, Ye Qingxuan smiled and walked back to Qingyun Temple.

Yes, they are still young.

Being young is a capital.

Doing anything, as long as you don't give up, it's not the end; without an end, there's no failure; without failure, how can you lose?

Watching the little Taoist walk away gracefully, Zheng Biao was momentarily speechless. Although he lost, he had never felt so clear-minded. It seemed his life had a goal, but what was that goal? Looking at the retreating figure of the little Taoist, Zheng Biao felt a bit empty... and at the same time, his face itched, and his nose felt hot. Reaching up, he touched the willow branches in his nose, and the pain made him wince.

This time, I'll probably have to lie down for at least two months. But that bastard Yun Yong will definitely be down longer than me.

"Let's go—back to the mansion—" Even though he lost, Zheng Biao had never felt so refreshed. That little Taoist was right; I'm only twelve, young, and have time... I lost to that beast, but I won against myself. I won't always lose.

Shouting with high spirits, he got no response from the servants. Turning back, he saw the servants staring at the retreating figure of the little Taoist, as if they had seen a transcendent being.

Slapping the nearest servant, he shouted angrily, "Idiot, aren't you going to take me home—"

"Yes, yes—Young Master—"

The servants finally came to their senses and carried Zheng Biao down the mountain.

Zheng Biao pulled out the willow branches from his nose, wiped the bloody snot on his hand, and threw it aside.

Looking back at the sign under the willow shade, "Qingyun Temple."

"Sigh—losing is losing—really don't understand why people can't admit it—" Zheng Biao mumbled, and the image of a spirited little Taoist appeared in his mind again, "That old-fashioned 'Junior Uncle'—who is he really?"

After everyone dispersed, two figures appeared on the mountain path near the temple gate. Two Taoists, one with white hair, radiant and transcendent, and the other with a square face and a short beard, looking serious...

"Qingzheng, what do you think?" the elderly Taoist asked.

"Master, didn't Junior Brother go too far, making the disciples fight with martial artists? Fortunately, there were no serious consequences, otherwise—"

These two were the most important leaders of Qingyun Temple, Lingxu Zhenren and his eldest disciple, Qingzheng Daoren. It was unclear why they were both here.

Hearing Qingzheng's words, Lingxu Zhenren laughed and shook his head, saying, "You, you—usually too rigid. You should understand that even your third junior brother has figured it out. Even if Qingxuan begged, your third junior brother wouldn't have easily agreed for the temple's reputation, but he also saw the reason—"

"Master, this—?" Lu Qingzheng was puzzled, not knowing how to respond.

"Ha ha, Qingzheng, don't overthink it. Your character is always upright and honest, so you can't think as much as Qing Song, who is more flexible. This isn't a flaw but a strength. As for Qingxuan, ha ha, he just did what I wanted to do but hesitated to do."