Chapter 10: Do You Think I

After one move, both halted simultaneously, motionless thereafter.

The courtyard under the moon fell into deathly silence, save for the sultry singing drifting over the rear wall:

"Long, curved eyebrows, delicately painted~ Trembling, slender willow waist, barely a handful~…"

Linghu Qingmo's eyelashes trembled violently—she had just been caught off guard. Her eyes, filled with shock and suspicion, quickly shifted to horror—her chest had been firmly gripped by a large hand…

?!

Realizing what had happened, Linghu Qingmo's gaze instantly turned into murderous intent!

Xie Jinhuan pressed his left hand against his chest, feeling the texture, then saw Seeing Mo Mo's eyes blazing as if to devour him—he swiftly withdrew his hand:

"Mutual sparring inevitably involves bodily contact, you know~…"

"You shameless scoundrel!"

Before her words ended, Linghu Qingmo's face flushed crimson; she seized Xie Jinhuan's left wrist, and visible streams of pale-blue lightning flickered along her arm.

Zizzzz~

Xie Jinhuan's wrist was clamped tight, as if seated on an electric chair—he could barely speak:

"You can't possibly be mad because you lost?!"

Linghu Qingmo's frosty cheeks burned like sunset clouds; she longed to cleave this lecher with a single sword strike.

But she had indeed been caught unawares—if this had been a life-or-death duel, she would already be dead, with no chance to retaliate.

Linghu Qingmo's chest rose and fell violently, her eyelashes trembling with rage, yet she finally ceased her lightning technique and replied, face still flushed:

"I come from a righteous sect—how could I possibly lose gracefully? You're a martial artist—how dare you use Thunder-Binding Sword to ambush me?"

Xie Jinhuan had been numbed by the electricity, but martial artists have tough skin and flesh—he recovered instantly:

"I already said I've studied many styles. You're from Mount Zihui—why fear I'd exploit your weakness?"

Linghu Qingmo fell momentarily silent, then demanded:

"If this was sparring, you should've stopped at the point of victory. You already had the upper hand—why didn't you halt earlier?"

Xie Jinhuan replied firmly: "You're unharmed—how isn't that stopping at the point? You're the direct heir of Mount Zihui. Until the outcome was settled, how could I know if you'd use some arcane Daoist technique to shift your form or turn solid into void?"

Linghu Qingmo, enraged that Xie Jinhuan had touched her chest yet blamed her for being weak, snapped:

"You've already seized the heart center—how could you still claim 'turn solid into void'? Can you?"

Seeing Linghu Qingmo's disbelief, Xie Jinhuan made no defense—only opened his palms:

"Come, strike me with a palm."

Linghu Qingmo, humiliated and furious, stepped forward without hesitation and delivered a powerful palm strike straight at Xie Jinhuan's chest and abdomen:

Boom~

The strike emitted a muffled thud, its force considerable—clearly laced with personal grudge.

Yet Xie Jinhuan made no dodge or block—instead, he stepped his left foot back, letting his chest absorb the palm's force, his body moving with the impact.

Thud—

The fierce qi surged into his body but failed to explode inward and damage his organs; instead, it rippled visibly across his chest, spreading along his back and arms until it reached his left hand behind him.

Boom—

The qi discharged outward, blasting a fan-shaped clearing among the falling leaves—entire courtyard fluttered with airborne foliage!

Yet Xie Jinhuan remained utterly unharmed!

?!

Linghu Qingmo, her cold, murderous gaze wide with shock, stared in disbelief.

Though she didn't fully understand the mechanics, she recognized this as a profound technique similar to "Receive, Neutralize, Counter"—absorbing the incoming qi, redirecting it backward without harming his body, just like her own forced "Strike Through the Mountain" technique.

As Mount Zihui's direct heir and a frequent observer of martial masters in Wang Fu, she had never seen such a martial art—her eyes filled with deep bewilderment:

"What technique is this?"

Xie Jinhuan, still feeling her palm on his pectorals, showed no shame or outrage—his gaze was like a master instructing an inexperienced disciple:

"This is 'Tì Lóng Wú Jiù,' one of the Eight Silver Dragon Forms. Its essence lies in 'Avoiding the Edge, Concealing the Edge, Moving Qi with Spirit, Using Opponent's Force Against Them.' Had I wished, I could've returned this palm to you."

The flush of shame and fury on Linghu Qingmo's face vanished—only disbelief remained in her eyes. She thought inwardly:

Eight Silver Dragon Forms…

Never heard of it—what an overwhelming martial technique…

He's about my age—how could his martial skill be this advanced?

Thinking this, Linghu Qingmo asked again:

"Who is your master? What sect do you belong to?"

Xie Jinhuan actually felt this martial skill was self-taught—but his rapid progress over three years sounded absurd, so he made up an excuse:

"Wind Spirit Valley—of the Hidden Immortal lineage. You've probably never heard of it."

The Hidden Immortal sect is a Daoist offshoot, perpetually secluded in mountains and rivers, emerging only in chaotic times—no one knows how many elder masters lie hidden within.

Xie Jinhuan's youth and power made his claim plausible—but Linghu Qingmo had never heard of Wind Spirit Valley, so she asked:

"Where is Wind Spirit Valley?"

Xie Jinhuan adopted a mysterious, guarded expression:

"I dare not let outsiders disturb my master's cultivation. I hope you understand."

"…"

Linghu Qingmo knew the Hidden Immortal lineage's customs and dropped further questioning—her gaze grew complex.

Though she had suffered a great loss, Xie Jinhuan himself could "Receive, Neutralize, Counter"—so touching her chest during the exchange was, in his view, justified.

But then—had she just been beaten, had her chest been groped, and now was she expected to thank him for the lesson?

Was she really that naive?

Xie Jinhuan saw the cold-tempered Linghu Qingmo, whose eyes kept shifting as she hesitated to act, and added:

"I touched your chest once, you've been touching me for so long, we're even... Sss~"

Before he could finish, a pale white hand on his chest suddenly pinched hard, distorting his pectoral muscles between her green-onion-white fingers.

Linghu Qingmo gave a vicious pinch, then quickly stepped back several paces, raising her sword to guard her chest:

"Fine, you win this round. We owe each other nothing. Farewell."

Saying this, she turned to run.

Xie Jinhuan rubbed his chest, not minding Linghu Qingmo's equivalent retaliation, but seeing she wanted to leave, he called out:

"Wait."

Linghu Qingmo paused mid-step, her eyes wary:

"What else do you want?"

"Goo~"

Before Xie Jinhuan could speak, Meiqiu landed before the bamboo basket filled with fallen leaves, shaking her head and gesturing.

"A bet is a bet; the courtyard must be swept clean."

"You!"

Hearing this, Linghu Qingmo's Bingshan face turned green, thinking inwardly:

I was injured by you during the day, touched on the chest by you at night, and now I must sweep your courtyard?

Do you take me for a henpecked little wife who takes beatings without fighting back and insults without retorting?

But getting hit was her own fault for walking into the blade, being touched was due to her inferior skill, and sweeping was her own wager...

Linghu Qingmo was at a disadvantage in every aspect, finding no grounds for rebuttal; after holding her tongue for a long while, she gritted her teeth, turned, went to the courtyard corner, picked up a bamboo broom, and began sweeping away fallen leaves and dust.

Swish-swish-swish—

The force was immense; Xie Jinhuan even felt a bit sorry for his own broom.

Since he held no grudge against Linghu Qingmo, and seeing the young lady had been scolded into silence, Xie Jinhuan didn't act like a master; he took out a feather duster and began cleaning the doors and windows.

Meiqiu was also well-behaved; seeing Linghu Qingmo sweeping with gritted teeth, she carried fallen leaves in her beak, hopped over to the front, and helped place them into the bamboo basket:

"Goo-ji~"

Linghu Qingmo's silver teeth clicked loudly, but seeing one person and one bird also cleaning, realizing she wasn't being treated as a maid, her anger slowly subsided. After a moment's thought, she asked:

"How did you find that bandit group today? Are there any other clues?"

Xie Jinhuan had been tricked there by Ye the Succubus today, so he replied casually:

"I went to find Captain Yang and happened to run into them. They said the dragon-beard grass has already been collected enough, so there's nothing else to do for now. By the way... they also mentioned the corpse by the river has caught the government office's attention..."

"Corpse by the river?"

Linghu Qingmo pondered carefully: "Could it be the floating corpse discovered five days ago at Huai River Bay?"

Xie Jinhuan was baffled: "Five days ago I hadn't even arrived in Danyang City. What kind of corpse?"

"An unidentified floating corpse, severely rotted and unidentifiable by gender, making its origin hard to trace; it is still under investigation. If this corpse is also related to the demon bandits, this case is likely far bigger than we imagined..."

Having suddenly received a clue, Linghu Qingmo couldn't sit still; she dropped her broom and ran outside.

Seeing this, Xie Jinhuan frowned:

"What? Quitting already?"

Linghu Qingmo, eager to interrogate the survivor, leaped onto the courtyard wall without looking back:

"I must return to investigate the case. Rest assured, I come from a prestigious orthodox sect; my word is my bond. Once things are done, I will definitely clean this place spotless."

Saying this, she flew out of the residence and vanished from sight.

"She's a workaholic."

Xie Jinhuan still needed to level up quickly to bury Ye the Succubus, so he stopped cleaning and continued pondering his 'Upside-Down Candle' Divine Art.

Meanwhile, the noise from the direction of the back wall had been continuing from start to finish:

"Clang-clang-clang~..."

"Young master~ Are you feeling shy..."

(End of this chapter)