Chapter 75

Chen Zhao's production of a Second Grade Pill drew too much attention, and given the Water-Land Dharma Assembly ten years ago, if he truly entered the Dharma Battle, he would surely be the target of that bunch of bald monks.

As for the reward.

A Mysterious Grade Sword Technique, Inner Sect Disciple status, even a Foundation Establishment Pill — none of these were urgent needs.

Other rankings also offered pills and magical treasures, but he lacked none of these.

There was no need to show off his presence.

Chen Zhao hid the letter and turned to return to his chamber.

"Zhao, I want to join the Xuanmen Chanfeng..."

A sleeve brushed against him; he turned and saw Xin Tong — perhaps she had slipped in during the moment he opened the door.

Her pink little face was puffed up in anger, making Chen Zhao frown in confusion.

Who had upset her?

"Today, several Fo Men disciples came up the mountain, challenging you to fight and calling you a coward."

Chen Zhao fell silent — this plot was clichéd; how could he possibly take the bait?

But Xin Tong, besides her indignation, kept glancing away nervously — clearly, there was more to it.

"Dogs that bite don't bark; ignore them."

Chen Zhao patted her small head and teased:

"But you sneaked in here secretly — it's not just to defend me, is it?"

"How... did you know?"

Xin Tong's face flushed crimson; she slammed the door shut, took a deep breath, and whispered:

"I... I want to compete for the Foundation Establishment Pill."

She spoke with solemn gravity; Chen Zhao froze, staring at her in silence.

Pfft.

He couldn't hold it in any longer — he burst out laughing.

"Jerk, you're laughing at me for overreaching too!"

Xin Tong let out a yelp and lunged at him, clutching his arm and biting down hard.

She had mustered rare courage to seize this chance at Foundation Establishment, only to earn laughter from Su Wanyao and Chen Zhao.

Unthinkable!

"It's not a fight to the death — just avoid getting hurt. Why do you need my approval?"

"So... can I join?"

Xin Tong's eyes lit up, her voice muffled.

She had promised him earlier: if he solved her physical limitation, she would sell him a Composite Array.

Of course, given their relationship, how could they possibly speak of buying and selling?

This Array, once completed, would possess Second Grade power; but her cultivation was still shallow, so she planned to earn resources herself, draw the Array, and give it to Chen Zhao as a small compensation.

"Wait for my good news,"

"After I win the championship, I'll split a Foundation Establishment Pill with you."

"Wait."

Chen Zhao grabbed Xin Tong's arm and tossed her the Spirit Beast Bag.

"Xiao Bai has digested the Monster Core and reached Qi Refining Ninth Layer — let it assist you."

She murmured an affirmative, tiptoed to peck his lips, then fled from the Cave Abode like a startled bird.

Chen Zhao touched his lips and smiled sincerely.

This girl — her timid nature hadn't changed one bit.

Cultivation knows no time; before he knew it, three days had passed.

Chen Zhao breathed in and out — not a single turbid breath escaped.

After his physical transformation, three days of cultivation surpassed a month of his past efforts; just one Heqi Pill swallowed, and he already felt the threshold of Tenth Layer drawing near.

"My cultivation speed has increased, but Spirit Stones are running out."

The Spirit Qi inside his chamber wasn't enough for him to absorb; the mid-grade Spirit Stones he'd acquired were half gone after two breaths.

Even though his monthly income far exceeded that of an Inner Sect Disciple, he couldn't afford such extravagance.

"Now that the Su Family's glory has faded, the Hongjing Ore they give me grows scarcer — I can only rely on my share from Juxian Pavilion."

As Chen Zhao silently calculated, he heard Su Wanyao pounding on the door, urgently calling:

"Younger brother, Xin Tong is in trouble!"

His heart clenched sharply.

With Xin Tong's strength, defeating a minor opponent was no challenge; he had given her plenty of pills, and Xiao Bai was aiding her — how could she be in trouble?

"Where is she? How badly is she hurt?"

The voice outside fell silent.

Chen Zhao's gaze darkened like deep water — had they killed her in broad daylight?

If so, he must begin planning immediately — even if the killer fled into Ban Ruo Men, Chen Zhao had ways to trap and eliminate him!

"Xin Tong isn't hurt — it's just..."

"She's never fought before, and she didn't hold back — nearly killed that nun. Her brother won't accept her apology and is demanding justice!"

"Huh?"

This plot twist felt off.

Why does it sound like a热血 novel — the little one gets beaten, and now the elder comes for revenge?

Chen Zhao's expression instantly became a spectacle.

Think carefully—Xin Tong's strikes were all counterattacks; now, in this Outer Disciple rivalry, it truly feels like a tiger among sheep.

"What is his cultivation level?"

"Qi Refining ninth layer, stationed in the Inner Sect."

"Oh, never mind, rest easy."

After comforting Su Wanyao, Chen Zhao inked a beautiful young girl and stepped out the door.

On the training platform.

A man and woman, drenched in blood, embraced each other—the scene was deeply moving.

The bhikshu, draped in a kasaya, pointed his sword at Xin Tong in the sky, his face filled with righteous fury:

"You demon! We agreed to stop at a touch—why strike with such brutality?"

Yet Xin Tong, tongue-tied, stammered for a long while before finally blurting out:

"Who—who told her to insult Tiankui Sect disciples?"

At these words, the entire crowd erupted.

Especially the Ban Ruo Men disciples, each one enraged, eyes blazing.

The bhikshu's mouth twisted in fury:

"Who doesn't know about Chen Zhao's stealing of kisses? My sister merely stated facts—urging you to keep away from a villain. Is that an insult?"

"If he truly has ability, let him step onto the platform himself—why rely on others to defend him?"

Xin Tong knew she had mishandled it; she scratched her small face.

Her fellow disciples exchanged uneasy glances, all aware they were in the wrong; those who knew her connection to Chen Zhao dared not speak up in her defense.

The girl's words were reasonable and well-founded; to refute them now would only seem like unreasonable bickering.

"I think this was merely an accident. Since Sister Xin has admitted her fault, let us let this matter rest."

High above, Zhang Chunfeng's robes fluttered as he prepared to show outright favoritism.

"Amitabha. Even among mortals, injuring another invites punishment—your sect's disciple nearly killed someone. Mustn't you give this old monk some explanation?"

The elderly monk beside him spoke coldly, brimming with murderous intent.

The relationship between the two sects was like oil and water; this duel served not only to scout for our own disciples but also to uncover the other side's talent.

This girl is a Formation Master of one in ten thousand, and nearly killed her peer in two strikes—her potential is immense.

Zhang Chunfeng chuckled. He knew this perfectly well.

He was delighted to watch Chen Zhao step forward for her, cleave a Fo Men disciple with one sword, and force this Xu Jing old baldhead to act.

"Dharma Battles are inherently dangerous; injuries are unavoidable. Why are you making such a fuss?"

His smile didn't fade; deep inside, he felt a quiet anticipation.

The old man still has strength left, but he doesn't wish to move—yet once matters escalate, he won't be able to avoid it.

At that point, destroying one sect won't just intimidate other enemies—it'll also let Ban Ruo Men recover its strength. How delightful!

Yet that bhikshu was ultimately an Inner Sect Disciple, not part of the contesting disciples—he could only swallow his rage and grit his teeth.

And Xu Jing could endure it too, eyes lowered, watching his disciple dragged into the crowd.

At that moment.

A gray monk's robe flashed past; from a hidden pouch beneath the nun's ribs, he stole a small pouch.

And her elder brother, utterly indifferent, watched him open it with wide eyes.

"The Longhua Precious Sutra—it really is in her possession."

The handsome young monk smiled faintly, murmuring to himself.

The surrounding crowd remained utterly unaware, as if nothing had happened.

Except—

A woman in white robes saw it all, her lips curling upward.