Chapter 84

Ye Qingxuan, as if he had done a trivial thing, wore an indifferent expression and smiled, "What do you think? Brother Chang... uh, sorry... your name is similar to the first one, I didn't remember it..."

Damn —

Chang Jingfan felt his face burning fiercely.

Ye Qingxuan, under the almost murderous gaze of the other party, remained calm and continued, "Do you want to continue, or admit defeat?"

Ye Qingxuan glanced at the feigned calm Chang Jingfan with a hint of mockery, then swept his eyes over the disciples of Changkong Zhaojian Sect. Each of them avoided his gaze, not daring to look directly.

With the highest martial arts skills, Chang Jingfan had already lost to the other party, how could the rest possibly win?

At this moment, the entire venue was silent.

Chang Jingfan was well aware of his side's strength, and now Ye Qingxuan had crossed into the "Strong Yuan Realm," his strength had greatly increased from the beginning.

"We, we..." Chang Jingfan felt as if something was blocking his throat, and with great effort, he said, "We, lost —"

The other disciples of Changkong Zhaojian Sect instantly changed their expressions, but none dared to speak.

"Did we win...?" A disciple of Qingyun Temple asked, his face full of disbelief.

"We won, we won — we won —"

Only then did the disciples of Qingyun Temple and the onlookers burst into cheers, the entire square erupting in joy.

"Such is the case," Ye Qingxuan dusted off his Daoist robe, which had not a speck of dirt on it, and said lightly, "Then I cannot see you off, farewell —"

"Junior Uncle, we can't just let them go..."

"Right, we can't let them go..."

The disciples of Qingyun Temple loudly opposed; their several fellow disciples were so severely injured and humiliated, how could they let the other party leave so easily?

Ye Qingxuan sighed inwardly, feeling helpless. According to his own intentions, how could he easily let the other party go? But with the background of his sect, how could he not consider the consequences? Establishing Changkong Zhaojian Sect as a major enemy at this time was unwise. If this grudge could be smaller, or even non-existent, it would be most beneficial to his sect.

Ye Qingxuan shook his head and smiled bitterly, ignoring the disciples' clamor, and slowly walked back into the temple.

Chang Jingfan remained silent, his eyes lifeless as he watched Ye Qingxuan gradually walk away.

"How is this possible? How could we lose?" Chang Jingwang, who had been watching all along, now screamed wildly, like a pig about to be slaughtered, his eyes full of disbelief and fear. The idea of making a big fuss was his own, and at the time, he had been confident of victory, using this event to enhance the reputation of several elite disciples. With a loud reputation, these senior brothers would gain great benefits both inside and outside the sect. And relying on their protection, he would be like a fish in water in Changkong Zhaojian Sect... But all his dreams were crushed by reality... Changkong actually lost — the Chang Jingfan he had always believed would never fail actually lost — to a small Taoist from a remote temple.

The goal of enhancing the reputation of the elite disciples was not only not achieved, but because of his extensive publicity, they became the other party's foil. He, who had proposed this idea, had undoubtedly become the object of everyone's resentment.

Damn, damn, damn...

It's all because of you, all because of this little Taoist, that things turned out this way...

"I will kill you, I will definitely kill you —"

Losing his mind, Chang Jingwang fell into a frenzy and rushed towards Ye Qingxuan.

Chang Jingfan inwardly called out, "Not good —" At this moment, their side had almost no fighting power left. At this time, provoking the tiger was no different from inviting humiliation. But with a slight movement, a sharp pain shot through his internal organs, and his actions were delayed. It was too late to stop Chang Jingwang.

Idiot —

Looking at the frenzied Chang Jingwang rushing towards him, Ye Qingxuan felt a deep sense of mockery: dealing with such a person did not require his own hand.

"Give me your life —"

Chang Jingwang gathered all his internal strength and fiercely struck out with a palm.

Amidst the cries of the crowd, Chang Jingwang felt a figure flash before his eyes, and the originally smiling face was replaced by a cold, expressionless young face.

Just being glanced at by those cold eyes, Chang Jingwang shivered, and the eyes full of killing intent made him regain his senses.

At the same time, a sword tip, brimming with cold light, appeared before his eyes, the intense killing aura making the skin on his throat break out in goosebumps.

Chang Jingwang's palm attack was too late to retract. The cold young swordsman's timing and positioning were extremely precise, and it was already too late for Chang Jingwang to dodge.

Chang Jingwang clearly felt that after the sharp sword pierced his throat, the other party still had time to calmly avoid his full-force palm. He now had no way to achieve a mutual destruction.

"Don't kill him —"

A soft voice, like a lover's sigh, gently swept across the sky —

The killing intent in the cold young man's eyes suddenly eased, and the sword tip lightly turned, narrowly missing his cheek.

The young man sheathed his sword, turned, and walked away, his movements as smooth and natural as flowing clouds.

Chang Jingwang's palm hit nothing but air, and he stood there, motionless... A gentle breeze blew past, and Chang Jingwang felt a cool sensation on his cheek, followed by a sharp pain. Pfft —

A jet of blood spurted from his cheek...

It turned out that the sword had injured Chang Jingwang's cheek, and the injury was quite deep... The young man's sword aura was so fierce that it created a shocking visual effect on his cheek.

The onlookers were once again in an uproar: it turned out that Qingyun Temple had more than one sword expert...

The Qingyun Temple, which the people of Qingyang Town had always regarded as an ordinary temple, suddenly became grand and sacred.

The simple and honest townspeople, at this moment, burst into heartfelt cheers and praise for Qingyun Temple's victory.

In the crowd, the few young men who had provided Ye Qingxuan with information were the most excited, boasting everywhere, "Look, that little Taoist is amazing, right? He came back because of our advice, he's our friend —"

At this moment, several red-robed big men maintaining order shot them a look full of ill intent, but the young men were no longer afraid of them, and provocatively gestured back.

From this, it could be seen that Changkong Zhaojian Sect had lost much of its prestige in the hearts of the many martial artists present.

The crowd began to become restless, surging towards the venue...

**********

The disciples of Qingyun Temple, supporting their injured comrades, walked back with a disgruntled look. Just as they reached the temple gate, they heard a loud shout, and a small Taoist with a full beard rushed out from inside the temple.

"Grandpa Yun Yong is here — which blind fool dares to attack, thinking Grandpa Yun Yong is made of clay?"

Everyone's ears were ringing from his loud voice. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed Yun Yong, who was on duty today. They all looked back, and sure enough, a small, handsome young Taoist appeared behind Yun Yong, none other than Yun Cong.

"Junior Uncle, greetings to all the senior brothers —" Yun Cong, wearing a pair of frog glasses, respectfully bowed to everyone.

Yun Yong and Yun Cong had been cleaning the martial arts equipment on the back mountain and had no idea about the commotion at the front of the temple, let alone that the trouble was aimed at them.

When Yun Yong heard that someone had attacked the square in front of the temple and that Yun Lu and Yun Chong were injured, his temper flared, and he immediately pulled out a plum blossom stake used for practice. The stake, as thick as a thigh and taller than a person, was just the right weight in his hands. He roared and ran out, full of killing intent.

Just as he stepped out, he encountered his fellow disciples returning, with Junior Uncle Ye Qingxuan leading the way.

"Junior Uncle, where are the bastards who came to fight?"

Ye Qingxuan felt a headache, rubbing his brow in distress.

"They're all done, idiot —"

Xiao Yunfeng passed by Yun Yong and coldly threw out a sentence, which left Yun Yong stunned.

"Damn, which bastard is so weak?" Yun Yong pounded his chest and stomped his feet, regretting it deeply.

A few disciples who were still unsatisfied gave Yun Yong a meaningful look and pointed behind them.

Yun Yong was instantly delighted, realizing that the main culprit hadn't gone far.

Looking around, he saw Zheng Biao in the crowd. Surrounded by a circle of red-robed big men, with several young swordsmen in white in front, this guy was dressed all in black, standing out like a crane among chickens.

"Hey — Three Biao, you have guts to come here again. The last beating didn't teach you a lesson, did it? Are you itching for another one...?"

Holding the wooden stake taller than a person, he charged at Zheng Biao, fierce as a bear.

Yun Cong couldn't hold back this brute and could only apologize and follow him out.

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