Chapter 78

Watching the martial arts competition in the arena, Huo Dong’s frown deepened.

The eunuch Liu He, standing beside him, could not help but smile faintly and comforted, "Old Huo, there’s no need to worry. This Qingyun Temple is just a desolate mountain temple. It’s normal that they can’t match the Changkong Sword Sect. Your divine eyes are invincible; there’s no need to be overly concerned about a few misjudgments."

Huo Dong raised an eyebrow and laughed, saying, "Do you think I’m worried because I initially thought Qingyun Temple was formidable, but now they clearly can’t match Changkong? I, Old Huo, am not that petty. I’m just curious..."

"Curious about what?"

"Curious why the disciples of Qingyun Temple practice different internal arts."

The two Qingyun Temple disciples currently in the arena and the few young Taoists he had seen earlier clearly had different foundations in their internal arts. The children he met at the noodle stall had more pure and profound internal cultivation. For a sect, to have two different foundational internal arts at the cultivation stage was something he truly couldn’t understand about Qingyun Temple.

**********

On a branch of a twenty-meter-tall pine tree near Qingyun Temple, a young Taoist stood with a long sword on his back, his clothes fluttering in the wind, looking like a celestial child descended from heaven.

It was Ye Qingxuan, who had hurried back quickly.

Ye Qingxuan’s frown deepened as he watched the competition from a distance. Yun Lu’s defeat had just ended, and now Yun Chong was fighting.

Yun Chong was clearly afraid of the opponent’s profound internal strength and was dodging the opponent’s moves everywhere. With so many concerns in his mind, his sword techniques became disordered. Coupled with his inferior internal strength, the longer the battle lasted, the more disadvantageous it became for him.

Seeing Yun Chong’s frequent mistakes and being constantly suppressed, Ye Qingxuan was extremely anxious and really wanted to step in and let the Changkong disciples taste the power of Qingyun Temple’s sword techniques.

"Another mistake, another mistake, another mistake..."

Seeing Yun Chong’s defeat as inevitable, Ye Qingxuan finally could not hold back and leaped down from the tree, preparing to enter the arena.

This generation of Qingyun Temple’s disciples still lacked combat experience. These disciples were the foundation of Qingyun Temple and needed to be cultivated properly. Otherwise, not only would it be impossible to reclaim the sect and revitalize Kunwu, but even this small Qingyun Temple would not stand firm. This entire generation of disciples was the foundation for the revival of the sect. If they were not cultivated properly, the great cause of reviving the sect would be delayed by at least thirty years.

It takes at least thirty years for a disciple to go from laying a solid foundation to completing their training and becoming an independent master. The remaining time is spent continuously refining and improving. These initial thirty years, especially the first ten years of youth, are the most important. If the disciples were to develop incorrect martial arts concepts during this period, it would be a regret that would affect their entire lives. For the Lingxu Zhenren and his disciples, it would undoubtedly be a waste of these thirty years.

Lingxu Zhenren was a martial arts enthusiast and a good teacher. Each of his disciples had their own unique characteristics. Not only were their personalities different, but the martial arts and techniques they learned also had different focuses based on their personalities and preferences. Similarly, Lingxu Zhenren, who valued lineage, also deliberately cultivated his disciples’ teaching abilities. When the Qing generation disciples were cultivating the third generation, they could also teach according to each disciple’s aptitude.

Emphasizing education and the cultivation of the next generation was the most important content for the Kunwu lineage, and it was also the foundation of their existence and the key to avenging their sect.

For this reason, the Yun generation disciples of Qingyun Temple were all carefully selected by the second-generation disciples. Even those with ordinary talent had a chance to stand out due to the refinement of the "Taiji Peiyuan Gong." In this sense, Ye Qingxuan’s contribution to the revival of the Kunwu Sect was enormous.

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"Come on, Big Brother, give it more effort, you can definitely win this bastard—" Qiu Yuanzhen shouted with all his might. If Big Brother couldn’t win, there would be no one among the younger generation of Qingyun Temple who could.

Not just Qiu Yuanzhen, but over a dozen Qingyun Temple disciples all had the same thought, shouting until their voices were hoarse, cheering as hard as they could.

At this moment, a cold voice rang out inappropriately.

"Hmph—If Yun Chong had not been so timid at the beginning and used fast sword techniques to attack, there would still have been a chance to win... Now, it’s hard to last ten moves..."

"Which bastard is talking nonsense here..." The competition was intense, and someone was pouring cold water on them. It was like a fan standing on the wrong team; not getting beaten up would be lucky. Qiu Yuanzhen was so angry that he shouted.

All the Qingyun Temple disciples who heard the cold voice angrily turned to look for the unobservant young man.

In front of them was a handsome but extremely cold young man, wearing Qingyun Temple’s Taoist robe, but with a clearly unfamiliar face.

"You... you, whose disciple are you? Why haven’t we seen you before? And why are you so blunt?"

Qiu Yuanzhen’s anger subsided a bit when he saw it was a fellow disciple, but he was still furious.

"Oh? You don’t like what I said?" The cold young man lowered his head and muttered, "But what I said is the truth—"

"You—The match isn’t over yet. How do you know Big Brother will lose?" A disciple was very不服气 (unconvinced) and asked in succession.

The cold young man thought for a moment and said calmly, "That Chang fellow has poor sword skills but slightly better hand-to-hand combat skills. However, he lacks combat experience and is not familiar with Qingyun Temple’s sword techniques. If Big Brother had used fast sword techniques to attack at the beginning, he could have won in at most ten moves. But Big Brother, fearing the opponent’s profound internal strength, did not dare to fight head-on and kept dodging and defending. The longer the battle lasts, the more disadvantageous it becomes for him. The opponent has stronger internal strength and a higher realm. Just in terms of endurance, Big Brother cannot win... Once Big Brother’s internal strength is exhausted, his movements will become deformed, and the chances of being hit by the opponent will increase, leading to defeat—only a matter of time..."

The cold young man’s analysis made sense to the Qingyun Temple disciples. By the end, they all accepted it and became pessimistic about Big Brother’s match, their cheers gradually dying down.

Clearly a fellow disciple, yet he could be so discouraging. Qiu Yuanzhen hated him deeply.

"If you were to fight, what would you do?" A disciple, unable to bear it, challenged the cold young man, waiting to see his response.

"If I were to fight?" The cold young man, holding his sword and crossing his arms, had no expression on his face except for the sharp light in his eyes. He said coldly, "If I were willing to take a palm strike, I could kill him in three moves—"

Three moves? Kill him?—

Isn’t that too exaggerated? It’s just a competition...

The Qingyun Temple disciples felt a chill run down their spines.

Looking at the cold young man’s sharp eyes, they all swallowed hard, thinking: This guy is serious.

The matter of life and death was spoken so casually by the cold young man, and no Qingyun Temple disciple dared to doubt the truth of his words.

"You—What’s your name?" Qiu Yuanzhen suddenly felt his throat tighten.

"Oh, me?" The cold young man turned his head, his expression wooden, his eyes cold, and his tone as emotionless as ever. He said calmly, "Junior Brother, Xiao Yunfeng—"

**********

The situation in the arena unfolded exactly as Xiao Yunfeng had predicted. After just a dozen moves, Yun Chong could no longer hold on.

Yun Chong, dodging the opponent’s moves everywhere, was naturally suppressed. In no time, he was hit by Chang Jingwang’s palm on his shoulder and fell to the ground. His long sword clattered to the ground.

The Qingyun Temple disciples were speechless.

"Hehehe..." Chang Jingwang laughed sinisterly, kicked the fallen Yun Chong away, and rolled him into the group of Qingyun Temple disciples. Chang Jingwang had never felt so comfortable, feeling that he was the greatest in the world and that everyone could be trampled under his feet. He laughed maniacally, "This is your Qingyun Temple’s young generation of experts? Ah? This is your Qingyun Temple’s Big Brother? Soft and weak, did you learn your skills from your master’s wife? Hahaha..."

Chang Jingwang’s victory was met with a burst of music and drumming from the side of the arena. The faces of the Changkong Sword Sect disciples finally looked better, each with a cold smile, looking disdainfully at the Qingyun Temple disciples, allowing Chang Jingwang to continue his antics.

Chang Jingwang, still unsatisfied with the humiliation, reached into his chest and pulled out something he had prepared, throwing it at Yun Chong’s face.

Yun Chong, enduring the intense pain in his chest and abdomen, picked up the object that had been thrown at his head. It was a woman’s belly band... Yun Chong felt a surge of shame and anger, his face turning red as if it could bleed at any moment.

Chang Jingwang laughed loudly, "How about it, little girl—Is the master’s fist hard enough? I’ll give you a belly band to wear. Just wear it and call me ‘master,’ and I’ll be merciful and let this matter pass—wear it, damn it, wear it—"

Pfft—Yun Chong, unable to bear the humiliation and the internal injuries from the previous kick, could no longer hold back the blood he had been suppressing. It spurted out, and he fainted.

"I’ll f**k your grandmother—" Qiu Yuanzhen felt a burning rage in his chest, his eyes bloodshot, and he drew his sword and charged at Chang Jingwang...

**********

Tomorrow, at the third watch, it’s a promise... See you then!

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