Chapter 48: Thunder Sound Subdues the Monkey

"Still has some heart."

On the eastern tavern, Zhou Peide sighed in relief.

He shook his head slightly and said, "You could’ve won easily, but you had to show off. If you’d used your best skill from the start, you wouldn’t be in such a mess."

Another middle-aged man with a black beard praised, "Zhou Bai has truly grasped the monkey’s form—after this battle, he’ll surely rise another level; his talent far surpasses ours."

He was Wang Yao, one of the Eight Golden Giants, who had studied under Zhou Pan since early on and mostly practiced medicine at his family’s clinic.

He was considered the most respected among the Eight Golden Giants.

"Brother Wang, you flatter me."

Zhou Peide stroked his beard and nodded, his eyes filled with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Yuan Qu beside him had grown too lazy to speak; listening to their conversation, his eyes revealed a hint of mockery…

……

On the western tavern, the atmosphere was tense.

"Looks like Old Zhang’s bet is lost."

An elderly master from the martial arts school shook his head reluctantly, "He’s gained the monkey’s form and the monkey’s intent—this Zhou boy’s talent is truly exceptional; the old monkey has found a worthy successor..."

"What’s the rush?"

Zhang Yuanshang snorted, his face dark, drawing several puffs from his water pipe.

…………

Leaving aside the various opinions, the battle above grew fiercer.

On the fighting platform, Li Yan took another claw strike.

Three deep gashes bled freely across his left shoulder.

Yet he paid no heed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Zhou Bai.

Using the Great Luo Body to trade for injuries was now useless, for this was a life-or-death arena—even if he recovered, unless he shattered the opponent’s “circle,” he’d still be wounded.

He had to admit, Zhou Bai was indeed ferocious.

His monkey fist had attained true intent, fluid and spontaneous.

Li Yan could even sense that he now faced not a man, but a ferocious ape roaming the mountains and forests.

Not a man?

Gazing at the wild, untamed eyes before him, Li Yan suddenly had an insight; as he retreated, he formed the Yang Seal and drew a deep breath.

Indeed, there was something odd about Zhou Bai.

A faint, pungent odor clung to him constantly.

This stench differed entirely from that of the cold altar’s demon soldiers or the Immortal’s aura worshipped by Widow Wang—it carried no chilling malevolence, but rather the breath of a living creature.

So this brat is cheating!

Though he didn’t know how, Li Yan was certain: Zhou Bai had used some technique to amplify the monkey’s intent.

Li Yan was angry, yet grew colder.

According to Master Tong, this match was witnessed by officials and guarded by someone summoned from the City God Temple to prevent magic use.

Clearly, the person summoned was utterly irresponsible.

Perhaps, due to the Zhou family’s influence, they were turning a blind eye.

Moreover, the aura was so faint—even if he exposed it, the magic user could simply disperse it, rendering exposure useless…

Too bad, the Three Talismans’ Demon-Subduing Coin Tassel wasn’t on him.

Whoosh!

As he pondered, Zhou Bai lunged again, ducking low, his right claw striking for Li Yan’s ribs, while his mouth hissed.

This was the Hidden Power Secret Technique: Thread-Sound.

With each inhale and exhale, the breath became a fine thread, piercing through intestines and stomach, vibrating tendons and membranes.

Zhou Bai’s skill was still shallow; using Hidden Power continuously had left him exhausted, and now he needed Thread-Sound to even execute it properly.

Combined with his monkey form, it sounded like a wild beast roaring.

Li Yan was the same—facing this claw, he had nowhere to retreat, so he used Hidden Power to deflect it.

Simultaneously, his chest expanded as he chanted the True Words of the Divine Drum Cloud Thunder Sound.

“Hūm!”

A muffled boom echoed in his chest, like thunder.

The crowd below was already noisy; the onlookers paid no mind, for many martial artists often grunted or shouted during sparring.

But Zhou Bai, close by, felt a thunderclap beside his ear, his head buzzing, eyes darkening, his breath instantly chaotic.

He bore the Horse-Monkey aura, and only through secret methods had he achieved it—like oil and water, sharply distinct.

The Great Cloud Thunder Sound was a Buddhist true mantra, imitating the heavens’ thunder and yin-yang transformations, inherently capable of terrifying evil spirits; though not magic, it still stilled the Horse-Monkey aura.

Once his breath was disrupted, the Hidden Power naturally vanished.

Li Yan, however, exhaled sharply and gathered all his strength.

A crack rang out—Zhou Bai’s claw was directly deflected, half his arm snapped backward, flesh split open, bone shards protruding.

“Ahh—!”

Though Zhou Bai often sparred and trained with masters, others feared Zhou Pan and dared not strike hard—he’d never suffered serious injury.

The searing pain in his wrist was unbearable; sweat poured from his brow as he staggered backward.

The Divine Drum Cloud Thunder Sound could break it!

Li Yan could smell the pungent odor now wavering.

Though he didn’t know why, he wouldn’t miss this chance—he pushed off his calves, feet crossing, closing the distance in a single step.

Red Fist also excelled in agility.

With Li Yan so close, Zhou Bai had no time to dodge.

Panicked, he flicked his left hand, claws like steel rakes, aiming straight for Li Yan’s face to force him back. But Li Yan, having fought him for so long, knew his monkey fist patterns well—he parried left, then struck with a right hook to Zhou Bai’s upper abdomen, followed by a left push and a reverse punch like a hammer slamming down.

Red Fist Quick Hands: Lift, Swipe, Thrust, Chop!

Each move was faster than the last.

Simultaneously, Li Yan exhaled sharply, chanting “Hūm” repeatedly; Zhou Bai took every blow, feeling as if he were a demon being struck by heavenly thunder.

Thunder roared in his ears, his head buzzed, and with a spurt, he vomited blood.

The fear of death surged.

Zhou Bai knew—if he didn’t act now, he’d die here today!

As Li Yan’s final punch descended, Zhou Bai thrust both elbows up.

Crack!

Both arms shattered simultaneously.

Zhou Bai had already retreated to the platform’s corner; under this immense force, he flew backward, spewing blood.

Thud! He crashed heavily from the three-zhang-high platform, his legs twitched a few times, then went still.

!.

“Die!”

A roar erupted from the eastern tavern.

A figure smashed through the window and leapt down.

It was Zhou Bai’s father, Zhou Peide.

Though he was rigid and harsh with his son, his words always cruel, his love ran deep, his discipline fierce.

This precious son had always been his greatest pride.

Seeing his son gravely wounded, Shengsibuming , he lost all reason.

Whoosh!

Simultaneously, several figures leapt from the western tavern.

An old man leapt forward, blocking Zhou Peide.

“Get out!”

Zhou Peide roared, raising his palm for a Heart-Strike.

But as he moved, the man vanished before his eyes.

The one who blocked him was the Eight Trigram Palm elder, Luo Shihai.

Eight Trigram Palm steps were like wading through mud, arms twisted like ropes, turns like grinding mills—best at close-range mobility.

Luo Shihai shifted and locked his body, circling to Zhou Peide’s side, switching palms to deflect his arm, then sinking his shoulder sharply.

Stumble! Stumble! Stumble!

Zhou Peide instantly lost balance, retreating step after step.

Only then did Luo Shihai gently stroke his long beard, his gaze icy, speaking calmly: “On a life-or-death arena, once victory is decided, grudges are settled—no retaliation or interference allowed.”

“So your son’s life matters, but my disciple must just endure?!”

This accusation carried unhidden fury.

His disciple—a promising young woman in green—had been humiliated by a Zhou family disciple and hanged herself.

He’d tried to retaliate, but couldn’t defeat Zhou Pan on the platform, so he’d been forced to let it go, swallowing his rage whole.

Now that the chance had come, he’d reclaim his honor.

Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanshang and others surrounded Zhou Peide, facing off against the Eight Golden Giants beside him.

For a moment, the atmosphere grew tense.

At that moment, Wang Yao from the Eight Golden Vajras stepped forward, pressed his fingers to Zhou Bai’s pulse point, and barked, “Senior Brother, he’s not dead yet—save him first!”

“Hurry! Hurry!”

Zhou Peide, now with no time for anything else, immediately led his men forward and lifted Zhou Bai onto a stretcher, swiftly departing.

He didn’t even have time to throw out a threat.

Meanwhile, Yuan Qu and others from the Eight Golden Vajras coldly scanned the crowd, then turned and left in haste.

Many martial artists were present, and their expressions varied at the sight.

They were all seasoned veterans, thoroughly familiar with the situation in Xianyang City.

Everyone knew that with this match over, the two factions of the Divine Fist Society had shattered completely—Xianyang’s roads would never again be peaceful.

“Young Master Li, are you alright?”

Wang Daoxuan and Sha Lifei paid no attention to the others, rushing to the arena’s edge and staring at Li Yan, who had collapsed from the platform, asking anxiously.

It was no wonder they were alarmed—Li Yan’s condition was just as dire.

Before turning defeat into victory, he had taken several solid claw strikes; his body was covered in wounds, soaked through with blood.

Li Yan opened his mouth, then suddenly closed his eyes and fainted, collapsing straight down.

Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan panicked, quickly catching him.

But their arms were gripped tightly by Li Yan, and a low voice reached their ears: “I’m fine—get back first!”

The two instantly understood, found a stretcher, and carried Li Yan away swiftly.

“Good!”

Though both sides had suffered terribly, the people of Xianyang City had been thoroughly entertained; as Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan carried Li Yan past, cheers rang out along the way.

Among the crowd, many wore gloomy expressions and strange glances…

…………

Near the Empress Temple, on the old street, the Puppet Shop.

Crack!

As Li Yan shattered the spell on Zhou Bai’s body, a white porcelain doll painted with red talismans on the altar suddenly shattered.

Chen Fa, who had been carving a puppet, froze, then slowly rose and retrieved from the broken doll’s remains a yellow talisman folded into a triangle.

The moment the yellow talisman touched his hand, it rapidly rotted, turning to ash…

(End of Chapter)