Chapter 131: Storm and Rain, Stepping Through Air

Crack!!

Chu Tianshu moved both hands simultaneously: his left hand rose upward, touching the wall above the window, five fingers already embedded into the concrete, gripping tightly; his right hand shot forward.

His crouching posture on the windowsill had many disadvantages, but once his left hand dug into the wall above, it became a fulcrum alongside his feet.

With three points of support, the force of his right arm thrusting forward became brutally powerful.

His extended arm pierced the room like a thick, heavy iron spearhead suddenly striking.

The two sides had never been far apart.

Wang Bo lunged forward Zhudong , as if deliberately crashing into the “spearhead,” with no time to react.

But at the very moment before contact, Wang Bo’s body flashed backward with a swift whoosh.

His feet had not even pushed off the ground to retreat.

It was as if an immensely strong ox-hide rope, anchored at his original position, had suddenly tugged his feet back.

Turtle floating on water—free to advance or retreat in any direction!

When Wang Bo had first intended to lunge forward, he had already bound a thread of internal force to the spot beneath his feet.

At the slightest thought, that internal force could vanish instantly—or snap taut, yanking him back to his original position.

Chu Tianshu’s strike missed; his expression flickered, and his body surged inward.

The crouched, slightly curled posture on the windowsill suddenly blossomed open the instant he entered the room, limbs extending fully.

Chu Tianshu’s feet touched the floor at maximum speed, heels nearly brushing the base of the wall, securing firm footing before he lunged forward again.

But the moment his feet made contact with the ground—

Wang Bo swept his hand across his waist, drawing a bright streak of silver light that stabbed toward Chu Tianshu.

It was a genuine soft sword, forged from alloy, thinner than a cicada’s wing, hidden within his belt, its hilt integrated into the belt’s clasp.

Wang Bo unleashed his internal force instantly; the soft sword straightened, cleaving the air like a razor slit.

The tip of the blade moved faster than sound.

A fine blade—but even finer was the timing of his strike.

That initial lunge and retreat had been nothing but a ruse, designed to lure the opponent into instinctively chasing him indoors.

The instant Chu Tianshu’s body slipped through the window, his feet touched the ground—his style swift yet steady.

Anyone else, suspended mid-air with no support, would have been caught by this strike.

Even Chu Tianshu himself, with his feet just touching the ground, had a moment of transition—from ground to upward force—akin to a vulnerability.

This made the threat of the blade greater than normal.

In the span of a blink, it was clear.

This bandit, regardless of other qualities, possessed combat wisdom far superior to Li Guangzong.

Yet Chu Tianshu anticipated the strike; his fingers flickered like an illusion, and a small mist of water vapor appeared beside his hand.

The Ren Wang Hu Guo Jing says: within one finger snap, there are sixty moments.

Chu Tianshu’s finger snap was even shorter than a moment.

His powerful fingertip force shattered the moisture in the air into visible droplets, launching a silver needle.

The needle struck the middle of the blade, exploding into powder and causing the sword to hesitate.

Chu Tianshu’s left hand, hanging loosely beside him, flipped—and a dozen silver needles shot toward Wang Bo’s head, face, and chest.

Wang Bo hastily retracted his arm and flicked a sword flourish.

He channeled his Turtle Internal Force to its fullest, maximizing its adhesive power.

In that single flick of the sword, all dozen needles were intercepted.

Not cut or deflected—but stuck fast to the blade.

At the instant the flourish ended, he would use the blade’s momentum to fling the needles back.

Then, needle and sword together, he would strike Chu Tianshu.

But the moment he flicked the sword, Chu Tianshu’s hand closed upon it.

To block the needles, Wang Bo’s sword path was restricted, slower than a full slash or thrust.

Chu Tianshu’s move was like a phantom emerging from a cold, damp world, untouched by moisture.

His bone-dry fingers, heated by instantaneous friction and piercing the air, pinched the blade’s tip.

Wang Bo instinctively tried to flood the blade with internal force to resist—but his nape twitched, his fingers automatically released the hilt, snatching his hand back at top speed.

Clang!!!

The vibration from Chu Tianshu’s grip on the blade’s tip resonated through every bone in his body.

By now, his tendons and bones were transparent and immensely strong; his internal organs could now transmit force the instant he willed it, unlocking the full essence of the Toad Palm Thunder Technique.

Inside the room, it was as if a small hand grenade had detonated midair.

The entire soft sword, along with the needles stuck to it, shattered into fragments and broken needles.

Sparks of silver light exploded outward in a wide fan shape.

Had Wang Bo not released the blade, his internal force surging forward would have been too late to protect it—only accelerating the explosion.

A split in his tiger’s mouth and injured palm were minor; he would have faced the shrapnel at point-blank range.

Now, he rolled away swiftly, yanking the quilt off the bed.

The fragments and broken needles struck the thick quilt, as if hitting a solid wall.

Not a single shard pierced through.

Instead, the quilt stood upright like a wall, already showing signs of rebounding force.

Wang Bo hid behind the quilt, both palms thrust forward, pouring internal force into it, intending to crush Chu Tianshu beneath a tidal wave of embedded metal shards.

Once the quilt shattered, he would have his chance.

But Chu Tianshu’s eyes gleamed; he kicked off the floor and leapt onto the bed, both hands reaching out.

Thud!!

Through the quilt, four palms struck each other with perfect precision.

Wang Bo’s face changed; he felt a heavy, bell-like force crash through.

The quilt had not yet torn—but his own bones, reinforced by internal force, had already trembled; his body flew backward, slamming into the wall.

Wallpaper and plaster cracked; thick dust rained down.

But darkness fell as the quilt dropped, covering all cracks and engulfing Wang Bo entirely.

Wang Bo’s heart lurched; a strange sensation—pain or chill—shot up his nape, triggering his internal force as he unleashed a flurry of palm shadows.

A quilt covering one man looked like it wrapped a monster with five heads and ten arms, lurching and surging in every direction.

At that moment, Chu Tianshu unleashed a storm of attacks upon the quilt.

The instant any part of the quilt bulged, Chu Tianshu’s palm struck it.

Every attempt to break through the quilt was suppressed by Chu Tianshu’s blows through the fabric.

Both men’s vision was blocked.

Yet Chu Tianshu seemed to know Wang Bo’s every attack intention.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!!

Afterimages stretched endlessly, wild and violent.

In the span of a breath, Chu Tianshu struck the quilt dozens of times with muffled impacts.

After the final palm strike drove forward—

He changed his palm to a grip, yanked the quilt backward, and stepped back.

Whoosh!!

As the quilt was torn open, the man embedded in the wall was revealed.

Steel rebar and concrete beneath the plaster were now exposed.

Wang Bo was fused into the wall, blood oozing from nose and mouth, limbs twisted, only his head able to move slightly, face filled with shock.

“Who… are… you?”

The moment he spoke, fabric on his coat and pants—seemingly intact—suddenly fell away like fluttering butterflies.

Chu Tianshu’s assault was seamless.

Using the Arhat Bell-Strike technique to suppress all attacks, he then pressed six or seven times along Wang Bo’s limbs and torso.

The later strikes carried Immortal Force, meant to capture alive.

Thus, Wang Bo’s muscles were bruised, bones displaced, and his clothing bore palm-shaped rips.

Chu Tianshu did not answer; instead, he pinched a handful of needles and flung them.

Wang Bo’s chest and forehead were instantly pierced by numerous silver needles.

“You see now.”

Chu Tianshu flicked the needle tails forward. “I’m the campus medic.”

Since Wang Bo was a man of deep internal cultivation,

Chu Tianshu could not guarantee that a standard knockout method would subdue him—too much force might kill him outright.

But by pinning his limbs like this, hanging him on the wall,

And adding medical acupuncture to block his heart and brain,

He had no chance to commit suicide.

Wang Bo truly could not kill himself—his tongue was numb, speech impossible.

Yet his trembling eyes screamed his desperate desire to shout.

Fuck the school nurse!!

All faculty and staff at Jin Dao Wu Xiao have documented records.

If there were such a skilled expert inside, Wang Bo would have flagged them during his inquiry.

Only the students, due to their large numbers and complex origins, are difficult to investigate thoroughly; their actual strength is also negligible, so their records are incomplete.

Thus, when Wang Bo first scanned Chu Tianshu and saw he was unfamiliar and so young, he categorized him as a student.

Chu Tianshu ignored him, darted back to the window, and gazed outward.

He knew Wang Bo’s infiltration route, and he was on the third floor.

With this vantage, Chu Tianshu could see beyond the martial school’s wall.

There were no gates or shops over there; the street was piled high with snow, empty—yet a car was parked there, most likely meant to rendezvous with the robbers.

Just as Chu Tianshu leaned forward to look.

Among the snow on the wall’s edge, a small white box seemed to twitch.

Immediately, the car suddenly accelerated.

“Huh?!”

Chu Tianshu shot through the window, his feet slamming hard against the wall.

Whoosh!!

The black-clad figure with golden embroidery surged like a massive eagle battling wind and snow, leaping directly from the third-floor air toward the wall’s crest.

As his left foot landed on the wall’s edge, he swept away the snow and crushed the shards of glass originally placed there to deter climbers.

Using his left foot as a pivot, Chu Tianshu twisted his body and kicked the small white box with his right foot.

This kick delivered force with a cunning angle, combining hardness and softness.

The white box accelerated sharply but did not break, emitting a piercing shriek as it struck the left rear tire of the black business car.

The box’s sharp edges sank deep into the tire’s interior, dragged downward by the spinning wheel.

With a crack and explosion, sparks flew as the tire burst.

The entire car lost control, spinning wildly in the middle of the street.

The driver instinctively slammed on the brakes.

The occupants inside tumbled and swayed, equipment rattling everywhere.

Thud!!

The car roof suddenly sank, as if something heavy had crashed onto it.

Chu Tianshu landed on the roof, his pant legs snapping in the wind, fingers forming a lotus-wheel motion before suddenly coalescing into a sword seal, pointing downward.

Lin Bing Dou Zhe, Jie Zhen Lie Qian Xing!

In a flash, like a white horse passing a crevice, his mental force transformed into a grid of four vertical and five horizontal lines, pressing down through the roof.

Everyone inside the car suddenly felt their hearts pound and flesh tremble, unable to resist—they rolled their eyes back and fainted.

(End of Chapter)