Chapter 395

Feng Yuhuai's dictionary contained no such words as "gratitude"; to her, a debt of kindness was merely a cooking seasoning.

In Feng Yuhuai's understanding, the essence of "kindness" was nothing but an exchange of interests tainted by bloodline impurities, wrapped in falsehood.

Just like Feng Ju's endless expectations imposed on her, and her endless demands on Feng Ju.

Therefore, Tian Xiaohai's words simply disgusted her; the key was, she could tell Tian Xiaohai was serious, which made it even more repulsive.

Feng Yuhuai sneered inwardly again and again, yet disdained to retort, instead responding with an elegant and indifferent posture.

She lightly raised that slender, fair right hand, her index finger circling gracefully like a conductor's baton in a maestro's grip.

The red thread at her fingertip seemed to come alive, instantly springing to life, swirling around her in a strange and wondrous rhythm.

It looked like some peculiar martial art, with exquisitely fine conduction and control of force.

Tian Xiaohai did not think much of it; the martial arts of this world were vast as the sea, and arts using needle and thread as secret weapons were not rare; he merely glanced a couple more times, feeling that red thread was especially vividly red.

The corner of Feng Yuhuai's mouth curled up slightly, tracing a contemptuous arc:

"Senior is joking; standing on this platform, who wouldn't want to keep winning?"

The burly referee stood tall between the two; his sharp gaze lingered briefly on Tian Xiaohai, then he spoke in a deep voice:

"Attention, she has revealed her weapon; if you need to, you may also apply to use one."

Tian Xiaohai shook his head; he raised his hand, grabbed the collar of his school uniform, and yanked hard — the fabric made a faint tearing sound — then flung the uniform aside.

In an instant, his bronze upper body was exposed to the air without reservation, like a sculpture weathered by time yet unshakeably solid.

Muscles knotted and intertwined upon it, hard as cast iron, as if every muscle contained boundless power.

And that skin, rough like long-tempered leather, every inch of texture clearly visible, covered in scars left from cultivation — those scars long or short, deep or shallow — silently telling of his day-after-day arduous training.

"No need; I train diligently day after day without cease; this body polished without a single day's slack is the weapon I trust most." Tian Xiaohai's voice was low and powerful.

Finishing, he opened his mouth wide, like a starving beast greedily gulping air, and sharply inhaled — that powerful suction seemed able to draw the surrounding air into his body in an instant.

With that breath swallowed, the Qi and Blood throughout his body began to surge violently; beneath his skin and flesh, countless lumps of flesh seemed to churn darkly, as if an invisible force was rampaging and surging within.

He strode forward in big steps, palms spread open, tendons and bones fully revealed — clearly he had trained his palm arts to the bone; even his palm lines looked knife-carved.

He shook both hands; breath entered throat and lower abdomen; chest and abdomen Qi and Blood rushed into both arms; his ten fingers visibly swelled a full circle.

First turning a gorgeous vermilion red, then rapidly shifting to a deep, heavy dark purple.

The next instant, Tian Xiaohai stepped forward; his left hand came down on Feng Yuhuai's head like a millstone, his right hand shook and grabbed, five fingers like steel bars clawing at Feng Yuhuai's delicate waist.

"This ends here!"

Below the platform, Feng Mu calmly withdrew his gaze and spoke softly.

He could see that although Tian Xiaohai's body was honed quite tough, before that strange red thread it was ultimately mere flesh and blood, hard to withstand.

Even under the watchful eyes of all, his foolish Imoto had to hold back, unable to unleash fully.

Moreover, Feng Mu had once personally experienced the power of those red threads; seeing them again now, their power surpassed the past, killing intent even denser, as if countless resentful spirits wailed within.

Feng Mu narrowed his eyes, sighing inwardly:

"Looks like, during this time, Imoto hasn't eaten few people."

Eating one person might equal three to five years of Tian Xiaohai's effort; but how many people has his own sister eaten?

Tian Xiaohai is already excellent, and hardworking, but absolutely cannot compare to one with a "man-eating cheat"; to compete on the same stage, he will need more accurate guidance from a master in the future.

While Feng Mu calculated in his heart below, a vicious wind rushed Feng Yuhuai on the platform.

This time Feng Yuhuai did not dodge; instead she lowered her head, brows pressed down, mouth curling in a sinister smile.

She shifted her foot, body soaring; wild hair dancing, her soft frame crashed into Tian Xiaohai's embrace.

Tian Xiaohai's single palm swung empty; palm wind howled like a knife, scattering and shattering Feng Yuhuai's black hair; strands flew in the air like ink-colored raindrops.

However, in that very instant, a strand of red thread slipped through the shattered black hair like a venomous snake, quietly winding around his wrist.

The red thread suddenly tightened, emitting a faint "hiss-hiss" sound, as if some living thing greedily devouring flesh and blood.

Tian Xiaohai's arm veins bulged; blood vessels severed instantly under the red thread's cutting; fresh blood spurted like a fountain, dyeing the flying disordered hair a bewitching red.

His complexion changed drastically; his right wrist transmitted bone-snapping agony; his face twisted horribly.

Yet the sensation at his fingertips made his heart sink — that was not the softness of flesh, but a strange dense resilience, as if stabbing into a tangled ball of cotton thread.

Tian Xiaohai's pupils sharply contracted; he was greatly alarmed, wanting to lower his head to see the situation.

Before he could react, Feng Yuhuai's body had already pressed close like a ghostly shadow; her warm soft frame instantly filled his embrace, blocking his line of sight.

Feng Yuhuai's sinister face rapidly enlarged before Tian Xiaohai's eyes; a bone-chilling mocking voice entered his ears:

"Thank goodness it's daytime now, Senior!"

Tian Xiaohai had no time to understand the meaning of those words before his whole body left the ground, thrown into the air.

Feng Yuhuai's movements were nearly too fast to see; her right knee drove into Tian Xiaohai's lower abdomen like a cannonball, her left elbow swept horizontally across his chest, immediately followed by her right palm chopping down on his shoulders like a knife.

Every strike precise and ruthless, completing a fatal combo in an instant.

Tian Xiaohai's body lost balance in midair; a large mouthful of fresh blood sprayed from his mouth; blood droplets traced a tragic arc in the air.

Yet Feng Yuhuai did not stop; she kicked off the ground, body springing up; both elbows shook, sleeves billowing like wind; the wrists concealed by fabric turned into a circle of twisting red threads in 0.1 seconds, then instantly reverted to flesh and blood.

Her movements flowed like some strange dance; every detail filled with deadly elegance.

The next instant, her sleeves probed out like snakes; two slender white palms seemed bonelessly soft, yet the moment they touched Tian Xiaohai's body they erupted with astonishing power.

Fingertips like needles, striking Tian Xiaohai's chest, shoulder blades, waist sides; every touch carried force that shattered tendons and broke bones.

Tian Xiaohai was struck as if by thunder; his body trembled violently in midair; fresh blood gushed from his mouth, as if every blood vessel in his body had burst in that instant.

Feng Yuhuai pressed her advantage relentlessly, shadowing him, catching up to the soaring Tian Xiaohai.

Her right foot stomped down hard; the platform surface let out a dull boom; spiderweb cracks spread instantly.

Her elbow tip, like an awl piercing cloth, carrying the force of a thousand jun, slammed into Tian Xiaohai's back.

Dingxin Elbow!

Crack— Snap—

Two consecutive heart-palpitating crisp sounds rang out, and Tian Xiaohai's body shot straight out like a kite with its string severed, his spine emitting an unbearable fracturing sound under the heavy blow.

His figure drifted in midair, as if boneless, and finally fell off clinging to the edge of the platform.

(End of Chapter)