Chapter 285

When the woman uttered the two words "Penglai," Zheng Lingchuan's expression changed drastically. If Zheng Ming was a flood to him, then this woman named Zheng Yi, who belonged to Penglai, was no different from a wild beast.

Zheng Yi glanced at him, then turned back to look at Zheng Ming.

"He is from Yingzhou."

"Indeed."

Zheng Ming nodded with a smile.

Zheng Yi said expressionlessly.

"So, twenty-eight years ago you suddenly stopped the pursuit of us because turmoil occurred within your ranks."

"It seems Yingzhou is not of one mind either."

Zheng Ming sneered.

"And so what?"

"There are not many people left in your Penglai."

"Kill him, then kill you, and Yingzhou will still be Yingzhou."

Zheng Yi slowly raised her sword, pointing it at Zheng Ming's chest.

"That remains to be seen, who dies first."

Zheng Ming clapped his hands.

"Exactly!"

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Summit of Mount Junji, at the hour of the Monkey (3-5 PM).

The wooden stage had already disappeared.

The flat surface formed by mountain rock looked as if it had been plowed over and over by sharp blades, pitted everywhere. The Jianghu people on both sides, especially those closest to the center, were dumbfounded, staring blankly at the traces left by the battle, and occasionally looking toward the high platform to the north, their expressions filled with shock and uncertainty.

The ten seats on the high platform were already full.

Qingluan Sect, Gao Ming.

The man with ordinary features and an ordinary build sat beside Liu Chengxuan, his hands resting on his knees, eyes slightly closed, as if regulating his breathing.

Kunlun Sect, Qiao Cailian.

The female Daoist, with sharp eyebrows and eyes but an exceptionally plump figure that stretched her Daoist robe tight, held the hilt of her sword with both hands, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

Shuijin Zen Temple, Liaoxing.

The young monk with an extremely handsome, feminine appearance, wearing a moon-white cassock, his head covered in dark blue stubble, held one hand before his chest while the other slowly turned his prayer beads, murmuring to himself.

And the Duan Clan of Dali, Duan Jue.

Four Heaven-Man Realm experts had stepped onto the stage one after another within the span of a single hour, shattering the Jianghu people's understanding of martial arts.

First, Gao Ming fought alone against more than a dozen first-class experts, including a peak expert from the Kong Dong Sect, yet he only used one move for each. Every move used internal energy and force equal to the opponent's level, yet it was just enough to break their techniques, scatter their stance, and knock them off the stage.

If the opponent had murderous intent, they would die after falling off the stage. If they only wanted to challenge, they wouldn't even have a single scratch on them after losing.

He was proficient in all martial arts, and his attainments in every school were not a whit inferior to experts who had refined them for decades.

Then came Qiao Cailian of the Kunlun Sect, who shattered the stage with a single sword strike, walked onto the high platform, and sat down, with no one daring to question her.

Duan Jue followed suit, pointing a finger to shatter a boulder the size of a man's embrace, and likewise walked up to sit down.

Finally, there was Liaoxing of the Shuijin Zen Temple.

He didn't even make a move.

Walking to the center of the ruins of the stage shattered by Qiao Cailian, he sat cross-legged and allowed the crowd to surround and attack him. This piece of land, ravaged beyond recognition, was actually the aftermath of the Jianghu people's attacks on him.

He was also the only one who had attracted the attention of Wudang and Shaolin.

"Master Yong Yong Jie, I haven't reached the Heaven-Man Realm, so I can't see it very clearly... this person doesn't seem to be Vajra, right?"

Elder Zhi Qing whispered to Yong Yong Jie.

"He is not."

Yong Yong Jie shook his head.

"Vajra, to put it plainly, is just having tougher muscles and bones, but this brother has been besieged for a long time, yet even his clothes are not torn... he should be Sumeru."

"This use of protective internal energy is not like the traditions of the Central Plains; at the very least, it is distinct from all the martial arts I know."

"I see."

Elder Zhi Qing nodded and looked at Liaoxing, who had risen and was walking slowly toward the high platform.

"In the future, I may have to ask for some pointers."

After that, he said no more.

By now, the stage had collapsed, the chairs on the platform were full, and the signs on the boards were complete, looking as if the dust had settled. Yet for a time, no one spoke, only constantly scanning a single person on the platform with their eyes.

Liu Chengxuan.

Huanhua Sword Sect.

No one questioned the qualifications of the other sects to sit above and look down on them; Shaolin and Wudang went without saying, and even the Beggar Gang and Cao Gang had many people and much money. Even without peak or Heaven-Man experts, they could use first-class experts to grind any sect below to death. Their sitting there was justifiable.

But what kind of thing was the Huanhua Sword Sect?

By what right could it be the "Peak"?

Yes, everyone understood the Embroidered Uniform Guard's intention; it was nothing more than wanting to set up a monument within the Jianghu, which everyone could understand. But couldn't you cover it up a little?

Even if you had found a mid-tier first-class sect to put on a show and fool us, everyone would have just laughed it off and accepted it. But to put such trash on top of everyone's heads—

Isn't that too lacking in propriety?

If these rules can't even make people submit on the surface, how can I be expected to follow them?

So for a time, no one spoke.

Someone would definitely be dissatisfied.

And someone would definitely stand out.

Everyone was waiting, waiting for someone to say those words.

Those words—

"I am not convinced!"

Bang!

A young man walked out from the crowd in the back, shook off the companion pulling his arm, his face flushed red, and pointed at Liu Chengxuan while shouting.

"By what right is he sitting there!"

"A mere second-rate sect, not even as good as me! Sect Leader Liu, if you have the guts, come down and have a contest with me! I—"

"He pointed at the Commander, showing disrespect. Kill him."

An Ziyang waved his hand.

"Wait, Battalion Commander An, I am not—"

The young man's expression changed abruptly.

Several Embroidered Uniform Guards surrounded him. In the young man's terrified eyes, one shield smashed his weapon away, one blade slashed vertically at his head, one blade cut horizontally across his waist and abdomen, and one blade stabbed at his groin.

In an instant, blood splashed.

The young man's corpse was dragged away.

"Is there anyone else?"

An Ziyang smiled.

"Oh, no need to worry. My Commander is broad-minded and respects the talented. If you have any opinions, feel free to bring them up."

"It's just, don't point around casually; my Commander is also sitting up there."

"He is old and has a good temper, so he might not mind. But as his subordinate, I cannot pretend I didn't see it—I must tell you all in advance."

He smiled.

A moment of silence.

The person who had been spying on Li Miao when the banquet began clenched his fists, then suddenly relaxed, his face expressionless.

"Killing is to stop the momentum."

"But, killing a chicken might warn the monkeys, yet it won't scare off a tiger or a lone wolf."

Sure enough, while he was thinking this, an aged voice rang out from the crowd.

"Can the wooden sign for the Peak level be changed?"

An Ziyang looked toward the sound.

A sturdy old man walked out from the crowd.

(End of chapter)