Chapter 56: You Have a Thousand Marvelous Methods—I Break Them All with Raw Power (Seek Follow-Read)

Snap!

A hand reached out from the pit, gripping the edge.

Immediately after, Zhang Zhiwei’s tall figure climbed out, his gray Daoist robe now torn into rags, streaked with dust—utterly disheveled.

“Wu Xian, right? You really went all out. I never offended you before, did I? Or… are you trying to avenge Lu Young Master just now?”

Feeling the aching pain all over his body, Zhang Zhiwei winced, then yanked off his shredded robe and tossed it aside, revealing a muscular frame that looked nothing like a teenager’s.

Beyond the sharply defined muscles, what drew everyone’s attention most were the interwoven bruises of purple and black.

Clearly, even the Golden Light Spell couldn’t fully withstand that furious, storm-like assault.

“Of course not. This was my first meeting with Brother Zhang yesterday—how could I have offended you?”

“As for Brother Lu’s matter… heh, Brother Zhang won fairly and didn’t truly injure him. Our San Yi Sect isn’t so petty as to lack such tolerance.”

Wu Xian smiled faintly, making up an excuse: “But I’ve always been cautious by nature—I believe even a lion must use full strength against a rabbit. No matter the opponent, I give my all. That’s the greatest respect I can offer.”

“Well, thanks a lot then!”

Zhang Zhiwei rolled his eyes, then turned to look at Zhang Jingqing, who stood quietly watching from the crowd. He suddenly grinned: “Master, this younger brother Wu is incredibly strong. If I only use the Golden Light Spell, I won’t be able to match him. So…”

“Use whatever you have.”

Zhang Jingqing sighed, waving toward Zhang Zhiwei: “In the past two years, I haven’t seen you go all out once. This is your exam—do your best. But remember: keep it in check. This is just a sparring match!”

“Wu Xian, did you hear that?”

At that moment, Zuo Ruotong had somehow left the tree and walked over to Tian Shi’s side: “My meaning matches Tian Shi’s—don’t seriously injure anyone.”

“Disciple understands.”

Wu Xian genuinely respected Zuo Ruotong; he immediately bowed deeply with clasped fists, the picture of a dutiful disciple. Zhang Jingqing’s eyes reddened, and he shot Zhang Zhiwei a glare.

Look at how that disciple behaves. Now look at you—no comparison at all.

“Ah, this…”

As if reading Zhang Jingqing’s gaze, Zhang Zhiwei was left speechless.

He’d figured it out: Master was in a foul mood today, and he’d probably scold him to his face even if he used his left hand to cast Thunder Art.

For a moment, Zhang Zhiwei felt a little bitter, his gaze toward Wu Xian turning hostile. He decided he’d return the favor—hit Wu Xian just as Wu Xian had hit him—to ease his frustration.

Of course, beyond frustration, what filled Zhang Zhiwei’s heart now was greater: anticipation and excitement.

No exaggeration—he’d never met a peer who could match him since he began cultivation. Even senior disciples several years older, or prodigies from other sects, fell within ten moves.

But today, he’d met Wu Xian—a young expert who brought him real pressure. Finally, he could unleash his full strength and fight without restraint.

Zhang Zhiwei even had a premonition: if he could defeat this opponent…

No—even if he just fought this battle, regardless of the outcome, his future Dao path would be smooth, free of obstacles. Wasn’t that itself a stroke of fortune?

“Heavenly and earthly mysteries, root of all qi, vast cultivation of aeons, prove my divine power…”

As he murmured the incantation, golden light surged again over Zhang Zhiwei’s body, brighter and fiercer now, swirling like golden flame around him.

At this moment, Zhang Zhiwei’s aura reached its peak; even the purple-black bruises faded under the golden glow, clearly a sign of his life force rising.

“Hah! Now it’s getting interesting…”

Seeing this, Wu Xian smiled, instantly entering Reverse Life Second Stage—his skin, hair, and pupils all replaced by pure, flawless white.

While Zhang Zhiwei radiated overwhelming power, Wu Xian’s posture remained calm and restrained, his depth impossible to gauge.

“I’ll strike first. You don’t mind, right?”

Zhang Zhiwei stared at Wu Xian for a moment, then spoke.

“Of course.”

Wu Xian nodded, signaling him to proceed.

The instant he finished speaking, the golden towering figure surged forward like a bolt of lightning, closing the distance to Wu Xian’s side within a fraction of a second.

At this moment, it was just like before.

The difference: Wu Xian could clearly see every motion Zhang Zhiwei made—and reacted before it happened.

Boom————!!

With a single sweep of his left sleeve, Wu Xian caught Zhang Zhiwei’s palm aimed at his face.

Their palms collided briefly, yet the force exploded into an audible shockwave.

Wu Xian didn’t budge an inch; Zhang Zhiwei stepped back half a pace, then spun, launching a golden-wrapped whip kick straight at Wu Xian’s head.

The move was lightning-fast, seamlessly following the previous strike—but Wu Xian remained calm, flicking his hand effortlessly to block it again…

In the next few minutes, the two exchanged hundreds of blows within a foot’s range, almost all initiated by Zhang Zhiwei, while Wu Xian merely defended.

Yet the result: the latter stood unmoved, effortlessly blocking every attack—even without using his second hand.

Everyone could see: not just in life force, but in martial technique, Zhang Zhiwei was far outclassed by Wu Xian.

Of course, this wasn’t because Zhang Zhiwei was weak. His performance already stunned everyone present.

Even seasoned masters had to admit: Zhang Zhiwei, still a boy, already possessed the strength to challenge them.

As for Wu Xian… was this guy even human?

He looked no older than fifteen or sixteen—and already this strong? Give him ten more years, and he’d ascend to heaven!

As the crowd marveled, the battle intensified, and their movement range expanded. Their speeds surged, leaving afterimages too fast for the eye to track.

Zhang Zhiwei realized his fists and external arts alone couldn’t defeat Wu Xian—he began deploying other techniques: the Eight Divine Spells and other Long Hushan Dichuan methods—all dissolved or outright shattered by Wu Xian’s brute force.

It felt exactly like: “You have a thousand ingenious methods—I break them all with raw power.”

“Are these two really our age?”

“Too strong. If I went up against them, I wouldn’t last a second.”

“Sigh… suddenly I don’t want to cultivate anymore. I’ll never beat these monsters anyway.”

Outside the battle circle, the younger generation stood frozen, some trembling.

There was no help for it: the power Wu Xian and Zhang Zhiwei displayed was too terrifying, shattering the confidence and pride of these youths beyond repair.

After today, most here would either collapse entirely, becoming idle fish—or strive desperately to chase after their shadows.

Zizalaa————

At that moment, a sound like countless birds singing erupted violently.

Brilliant, blinding lightning flared where the two youths stood, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.

Simultaneously, some well-informed cultivators gasped aloud:

“Five Thunder Orthodoxy!!”

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(End of Chapter)