Chapter 190: No Thoughts in the Heart, Then Invincible (8k)

September 13, Fengyi River.

The rising sun cast its light upon the shimmering inner river.

Nangong Ye, dressed in a black skirt, sat upright beside a small table, holding a tablet in her hand; her face was as cold as frost, revealing the same sharp, distant aura she had in days past.

The reason was that since returning from the Imperial Observatory yesterday, she had been filled with dread; even the slightest sound on the street made her tense up all over.

As it turned out, that fellow truly knew how to torment people; he hadn't come last night!

As for the reason he didn't come, she actually understood deep down—once the Fire-Adding Pills were finished, they couldn't be refined that same day; if he came back that night, wouldn't that be like seeking a mistress for pleasure? How offensive that would be to her...

But couldn't you at least say something?

Nangong Ye knew Xie Jinhuan's action was correct; without an antidote pill, she shouldn't have expected that fellow to come; if he really had come, she should have been angry.

But her heart just felt an inexplicable irritation...

It seems my Dao-heart is truly no longer pure...

If one feels displeasure, it means one has been bewitched by the heart-demon and completely fallen into ruin.

So one must calm the mind and praise that fellow for his behavior of taking without eating...

While thinking thus, Nangong Ye placed two medicine bottles into a small wooden box and carved on the lid:

Just right

One bottle contains twelve pills; every stroke represents one instance of detoxification, and also represents the burning torment Xie Jinhuan endured.

Last night, when there was no medicine, she didn't push that fellow away; she was making up for the compensation she hadn't given in previous times; she didn't want to owe a favor...

She kept count because the Vigor-Reviving Pill relied on luck; if she didn't record it, she would surely forget how many times she had detoxified by the end.

If the box was fully carved and she still hadn't resolved it, she could no longer continue.

She couldn't let that fellow suffer in vain, nor could she let this situation continue endlessly...

After such a chaotic state of mind for an unknown duration, a sound came from outside:

Knock knock knock~

"Honghong?"

Hearing the familiar voice, Nangong Ye put away the wooden box, took a deep breath to suppress her scattered thoughts, stood up, and went to the window; her phoenix eyes were devoid of emotion or desire:

"Is the medicine refined?"

"Not yet."

"Then why have you come?"

Xie Jinhuan, dressed in a white robe with a long spear slung over his shoulder, smiled brightly:

"It will be refined in the afternoon; tonight I will come to detoxify you. Later, I will fight in a duel with the eldest disciple of Fanyun Temple; do you want to watch?"

Nangong Ye is the Sect Master of Mount Zihui; how could she not go watch?

But if she sat in the viewing stands and that fellow discovered she was an elder, his Dao-heart might shatter on the spot; for this reason, she could only observe secretly.

Nangong Ye pondered slightly and replied:

"I won't go; I have other matters later."

Xie Jinhuan was slightly disappointed, but said nothing; he leaped down inside the window and looked at the giant ice block who was as tall as him:

"Then won't you show some goodwill? Like encouraging me a bit."

Nangong Ye stepped back half a pace, her expression serious:

"We agreed that I would share your suffering only during detoxification; now that there is no medicine, our relationship is as clear as water; you must not harbor impure thoughts."

Xie Jinhuan stepped closer: "I didn't come last night; are you angry?"

Nangong Ye stepped back further: "I am not; don't imagine things."

"Is that so?"

You advance, I retreat; the result was Nangong Ye leaned against the wall; her gaze and momentum were astonishing, yet she was clearly helpless against this young man.

Xie Jinhuan propped one hand against the wall, his momentum becoming dominant:

"If I just leave like this, my heart will feel empty; if my Dao-heart becomes blocked later and I get injured in the duel, what then?"

As the Sect Master of Mount Zihui, Nangong Ye was very afraid of Xie Jinhuan encountering trouble, but right now she was Mu Mu Yun Hong; according to the rules, the duel had nothing to do with her...

"As long as you fight well, how could you get injured? You..."

Seeing the young man slowly approach, Nangong Ye could neither dodge nor stand still; she could only resign herself to pressing against the wall, showing a hint of disdain, and gazing out the window at the autumn scenery.

Smack smack smack smack...

Xie Jinhuan, having taken and kissed to his heart's content, finally stopped with satisfaction:

"Encouragement received; I'm leaving first."

"..."

Nangong Ye leaned against the wall; fearing she would dampen Xie Jinhuan's fighting spirit, she didn't resist; only after his figure departed did she close her disheveled robes, quickly change into a Daoist robe, transform into the emotionless, desireless female sword immortal, and head toward the Imperial Observatory...

—

The autumn sun hung in the sky.

Behind the Tower of Illumination in All Directions, several rows of seats were set up; on the right sat the cultivators of the Danding Sect, and on the left were the monks from the Guohuo Temple.

The newly appointed Director Wu Zheng sat in the central chair, stroking his goat beard and looking at a corridor pillar on the steps:

"This master is truly tall; why do you not take a seat?"

"...?"

Silence fell on both sides.

Only the Monk Jingkong, who was very good at comforting others, helped debate the scriptures:

"Director Wu's words may not be a mistake in sight, but rather a reference to all present being pillars; if the Dao and Buddha contend, only this building will suffer..."

Wu Zheng silently turned his gaze toward the Abbot of Fanyun Temple:

"Master Jingkong's insight is profound. This old man also has a slight understanding of the Daoist and Buddhist arts. The Buddhist school emphasizes 'letting go,' while the Daoist school emphasizes 'taking down'..."

Gibberish.

The kind-faced abbot of Fanyun Temple could barely hold his expression.

But though Wu Zheng was blind, he was not foolish; he was merely making jokes to ease the tension between the two sides.

As the youngest disciple of Saint Ye, Wu Zheng's status on the path of cultivation was actually far higher than that of the two groups on either side. Neither side dared to disrespect this blind elder, so they patiently listened, their gazes fixed on the martial arts arena.

The martial arts arena was a hundred zhang square, surrounded by high black stone walls to prevent stray arrows. The yellow earth was very flat; normally, the internal staff of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau would spar and undergo assessments here.

Although the dispute between sects was irreconcilable, making it public would be detrimental to the stability of the Righteous Path. Therefore, such disputes were usually resolved internally, with the Imperial Astronomical Bureau acting as witness. Only astronomy students and a few onlookers were present around the venue.

Wang Shizi, known as a troublemaker, had certainly come today. During the mourning period, he dared not be too flamboyant, so he hid in his room, secretly placing bets with the prodigal sons.

Princess Changning, dressed in mourning clothes, was also observing from a window in a nearby building. Beside her were Naiduo and Big Meiqiu, both looking full of expectation.

Linghu Qingmo felt a bit nervous. After all, this duel was 'Xie Jinhuan standing up for her,' which was equivalent to making their romance public...

As for the Lin family, big and small: Lin Wanyi, as a demoness of the Wu Sect, dared not come; Zisu, relying on her status as a top student of the Danyang Academy, had mingled with the students at the Imperial Academy who were there to watch the spectacle.

This battle was to resolve a dispute between two factions; it wasn't of great consequence, but strictly speaking, it was a test of strength between the Dao and the Buddha.

The Buddhist school had only recently arrived in the Central Plains, and its foundations were not yet solid. If Fanyun Temple failed to establish itself in Danyang, its morale would inevitably be crushed in the future.

If the defenders of Mount Zihui failed to hold the challenge, with Fanyun Temple leading the way, other famous Buddhist schools would naturally begin to propose 'joint rule by Dao and Buddha,' moving into various mountain strongholds.

Therefore, the atmosphere on both sides was quite tense. Zhang Guan looked forward anxiously, waiting for Xie Jinhuan to arrive.

The abbot of Fanyun Temple turned his prayer beads, feeling slightly uneasy in his heart.

After all, Xie Jinhuan's momentum was too overwhelming; he killed gods if they blocked him and killed Buddhas if they blocked him.

The Buddhists were at a disadvantage when fighting martial artists, lacking a clear advantage. Being only half a grade higher in strength was not a guarantee.

Even if he held a celestial artifact, Xie Jinhuan was so fierce; did he not have such an item on his person?

What if he pulled out the Zhenglun Sword and used the 'Slaughter Immortal Array'? The most powerful magical tool of the Daoist school, paired with the most powerful thunder technique of the Daoist school—would a First Grade Buddhist dare to face it with his life?

But the good news was that Xie Jinhuan did not yet know this technique.

And the bad news was that Xie Jinhuan did not need this technique.

After everyone had waited for a long time, the sound of hooves rang out from outside the grand archway of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.

Clip-clop, clip-clop...

Everyone turned to look. A young master in white robes, holding a long spear and riding a fiery red horse, galloped in from the side of the Eight Directions Bright Tower.

A white robe fluttered in the wind, the long spear pointed diagonally at the ground. Though he was alone, he displayed the momentum of a single rider charging a formation.

At a glance, it was as if the White-Robed God of Slaughter stood with his spear on his horse, coming to slaughter the Imperial Astronomical Bureau...

On the Eight Directions Bright Tower, Lu Wu Zhen, with one hand behind his back, saw this momentum and nodded slightly:

"The younger generation is awe-inspiring. When I was in my teens and encountered such occasions, I was terrified and dared not show even a shred of sharpness."

Monk Wuxin, leaning on his Zen staff, stood by his side and nodded slightly:

"You were indeed more likable back then than you are now."

Nangong Ye, dressed in a Daoist robe, stood at a side window. His aura, freezing a thousand miles, was extraordinary, but compared to the two Zhang Sects who had returned to simplicity, a gap was still evident.

Seeing this youth enter with a spear, full of arrogance, Nangong Ye felt quite approving, yet his heart was not without doubt:

This youth clearly possessed an extraordinary bearing, and his usual speech and conduct were gentle and refined. Why, upon entering a boudoir, did he pretend to be a confident and self-satisfied street thug...

The lewd words he spoke made people feel ashamed and angry yet helpless, along with his indiscriminate intimacy...

Sensing his Dao heart was unstable, Nangong Ye's eyes immediately returned to coldness. With one hand behind his back, he simply observed quietly.

Clip-clop, clip-clop...

The jujube-red fiery horse soon arrived before Gao Ta.

After glancing at the eight-story Gao Ta, Xie Jinhuan's gaze fell on the several people seated below. He flipped off his horse, held his spear, and bowed:

"Junior Xie Jinhuan greets Director Wu and all the elders."

Wu Zheng, his eyes full of smiles and looking at who-knows-where, stroked his beard and praised:

"Swift as a meteor startling the sun and moon, hooves overturning dust, proud as the sky wolf! What momentum! It has been many days since we met, and Junior Xie is still so unforgettable..."

?

The two groups of Daoists and Buddhists turned their heads in unison.

Xie Jinhuan was not surprised at all. After bowing to everyone above and below the Eight Directions Bright Tower, he went straight to his opening statement:

"Junior has long admired Linghu Qingmo, the direct disciple of Master Nangong of Mount Zihui. Hearing that Fanyun Temple is preparing to establish a temple in Danyang, and that there is some dispute between the two sides, I have volunteered to take on this matter. If I succeed in this battle, I hope Master Zhang will grant me the next opportunity. If I fail, I hope all the elders will not laugh..."

Hearing these words of 'proposing marriage,' Linghu Qingmo's face turned directly red. She wanted to hide, yet she couldn't help but have stars in her eyes.

Nangong Ye was a bit dazed. His Bingshan eyes remained unchanged, but his thoughts had drifted who-knows-where.

Behind the challenge, both sides had actually discussed the matter; now it was merely formalities.

Zhang Guan, with the air of an immortal and the bone of a Daoist, smiled and replied:

"Nephew Xie, just do your best. With the matter of slaying demons together in Yunling County preceding this, regardless of success or failure today, Nephew Xie will be a guest of honor at Mount Zihui."

The abbot of Fanyun Temple also spoke warmly:

"Today's matter is witnessed by the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. Regardless of victory or defeat, there will be no private grudges. Young Master Xie may fight with full abandon."

Xie Jinhuan's purpose in coming was actually to find the Super Grade Buddhist who had attempted to assassinate him, but with just one glance at the abbot of Fanyun Temple, he could confirm it was not him.

After all, the abbot of Fanyun Temple was quite fat, and his height was off by two or three inches.

The black-clad Super Grade who attacked him did not follow the Demon Dao, so he did not conceal the heavenly secrets, allowing the Ghost Wife to identify his sect.

Among the various sects, only the Demon Dao practiced limb mutation; to hide, they researched techniques like 'Bone Shrinking and Sinew Hiding.' The Buddhist school was steady and solid, with no need to hide their heads or faces, so even a Super Grade could not change their body size to such a great extent.

Xie Jinhuan scanned the surroundings again, found no similar figures, said no more, and stood in the square waiting.

Seeing this, the abbot of Fanyun Temple raised his hand slightly:

"Mingwu, go."

As he finished speaking, the thirty-year-old yellow-robed monk bowed in Buddhist fashion, took the vajra club from the abbot's hands, descended the steps, and advanced forward—his broad shoulders and sturdy frame evident, his stride radiating the might of a dragon and the power of a tiger, his aura steady and unshakable.

Xie Jinhuan stood like a spear, his nine-foot silver blade slanted toward the ground; he briefly sized up the newcomer, originally observing the monk's aura, when suddenly a commotion rose from the steps:

"Abbot Jinghai, is that the Vajra Subduing Demon Club left by the Jade Mind Bodhisattva?"

"It appears to be…"

"This…"

The five Danding Sect Daoist Priests seated below, seeing the Buddhist sect bring forth a celestial weapon for battle, all wore expressions of anger.

The abbot of Fanyun Temple responded calmly:

"The Subduing Demon Club is an ancestral artifact of our Chan Ding Sect, entrusted to our disciples—this follows proper protocol. Your sect sent your outsiders to meet the challenge; we of Fanyun Temple raise no objection. You lend your Danding Sect celestial weapon to your junior, and we of Fanyun Temple likewise raise no objection."

"..."

Zhang Guan and the others glared furiously, yet were left speechless by the rebuttal.

After all, Mount Zihui had sent an unmarried son-in-law to fight—when stretched to its logical extreme, they could not claim greater moral ground than Fanyun Temple allowing its disciple to wield a sect ancestral artifact.

But celestial weapons carry unique "attributes": Mount Zihui's Zhenglun Sword draws upon heaven and earth to double the power of thunder arts; within the same realm, victory is impossible—you must be one rank higher to even stand a chance.

The same applies to the Subduing Demon Club: it nearly ignores defense; under celestial weapons, one strike leaves a dent, one blow punches a hole through flesh—what normal person could fight it?

To give Xie Jinhuan an identical artifact? That would be even more absurd.

The entire Daqian Daoist sect combined possessed only two celestial weapons: one was True Person Qixia's Zhenglun Sword, the other the Yin-Yang Ruler passed down by True Person Ziyang.

Even if the Zhenglun Sword were present, Xie Jinhuan wielding it would merely treat it like an iron rod—useless, like an ox chewing peonies.

The Yin-Yang Ruler was even less useful: its function was to suppress yin or suppress yang, forcibly severing the connection to heaven and earth's qi, preventing opponents from drawing upon celestial power.

Below the transcendent rank, one cannot draw upon heaven and earth's power anyway—using it against Monk Mingwu would be like playing the lute to a cow; one could only swing it like a short club, smashing it against the vajra club.

After this battle, Lu Wu Zhen's Dao heart would likely shatter!

A first-rank beginner fighting a half-second-rank opponent, wielding the Chan Ding Sect's exclusive weapon—this was pure shamelessness.

Nangong Ye's distractions vanished in fury; he turned to the two Zhang Sect leaders:

"Brother Lu, is this in accordance with protocol?"

Lu Wu Zhen, one hand behind his back, fell silent briefly, then nodded:

"A disciple of the Chan Ding Sect wielding his sect's ancestral artifact—this follows proper protocol.

"By convention, the Danding Sect must provide its own disciple with an equivalent artifact for confrontation. If we cannot produce one, it reflects our sect's insufficient depth—not a reason to forbid the opponent from using theirs."

Nangong Ye had no celestial weapon to offer, for this was a contest between Dao and Buddhist powers; after a moment's thought, he said:

"Brother Lu, could you lend the Yin-Yang Ruler to Xie Jinhuan?"

"..."

As Zhang Sect leader, Lu Wu Zhen was now trapped: once the Buddhist sect revealed their ancestral treasure, refusing to lend his own artifact to a junior would cost him immense reputation.

But the Yin-Yang Ruler was useless below the transcendent rank—it would only serve as a short club, smashing against the vajra club, and even if it didn't break, its durability would plummet catastrophically…

Lu Wu Zhen fell silent a moment, then withdrew from his sleeve a law ruler, white on one side, black on the other:

"Young Xie, I lend you this."

Swoosh~

The law ruler shot through the air like a streak of light, instantly arriving at Xie Jinhuan's side.

But Xie Jinhuan, seeing the opponent produce a celestial weapon, showed no great reaction. After all, he possessed one himself; the vajra club was no different from the Heavenly Gang Club—its power had no upper limit, but also no lower bound; wielded poorly, it was merely an iron rod.

Xie Jinhuan had come today to test his spear. If the opponent wielded divine weapons, he would simply be more cautious. If he had to switch weapons at the first difficulty, what purpose would this spear serve?

Xie Jinhuan did not take the small ruler offered by Zhang Lu; instead, he lightly flicked the spear's tip:

"This spear was gifted by the Dan Wang. It has yet to taste blood. To face off against the artifact left by the Jade Mind Bodhisattva in its first battle—this is the spear's honor."

Lu Wu Zhen's eyes widened in surprise; he retracted the Yin-Yang Ruler:

"Young Xie, you have great courage. If this weapon sustains damage today, I, this Daoist, shall repair it."

Xie Jinhuan said nothing further; he unfastened the twin weapons at his waist and planted them firmly in the yellow earth.

Scrape~ scrape~

Then, lightly armed and unburdened, he walked to the opposite side, feet sliding apart into a bow stance, left hand dragging the spear, right hand gripping the haft, assuming a wide, open stance—his entire aura turning solemn, like an unmoving dragon of stone!

The yellow earth training ground beneath the autumn sun fell utterly silent.

All the experts fixed their gazes on the two men; Wu Zheng stroked his beard and nodded slightly:

"Excellent posture!"

"Can Master Wu see it?"

"Motion and stillness—I can still distinguish. Right now, Young Xie has become as if he vanished."

"Oh…"

…

—

Huhuh~

The autumn wind whipped up dust, swirling between the two opponents.

Monk Mingwu, holding the vajra club, stood motionless as a pine, his mind calm as still water when first gripping the sacred weapon.

But seeing the white-robed warrior before him, as still as a lifeless object, he suddenly understood why so many demon bandits had perished beneath his hands.

Merely by his aura, this youth was flawless—eliciting nothing but caution, not even the slightest impulse to launch a preemptive strike!

Around the training ground, silence fell like a tomb; all held their breath—until movement erupted from within:

Huh~

Huhuh~

…

Xie Jinhuan held the tail of the spear in his right hand; the nine-foot silver blade wove through his palm, the straight long spear transforming into a roaming snake, the one-and-a-half-foot spearhead serving as the snake's fangs, gleaming with a grim, cold light under the autumn sun, surging forward and retreating as if to pierce the void, yet halting abruptly when poised to strike.

Han Quan's cold eyes fixed on the yellow-robed Monk ten zhang away, judging the slightest flow of the opponent's qi.

As the eldest disciple of Fanyun Temple, Mingwu was also a high monk of the Chan Meditation School; his figure was steady as a rock, simply waiting silently for the moment the snake's fangs would reach his body.

But unfortunately, standing before him was not a snake, but a dragon!

Boom—

Almost the instant everyone held their breath and condensed their qi, Xie Jinhuan stomped heavily, leaving a depression in the yellow earth ground.

Then his figure shot forward like a fierce tiger piercing through a forest, the qi force along his path tearing the ground and raising rolling clouds of dust.

Boom, boom, boom—

The crowd's gaze shifted rapidly, and Monk Mingwu also turned continuously as if facing a great enemy.

The result, however, was that the yellow earth tornado raging in the martial arts field, without any stagnation, drew an equilateral triangle around Monk Mingwu!

After three consecutive surprise attacks, he instantly returned to his original spot!

And unlike before, while the roaring of the qi force had not yet dissipated, the rolling yellow dust was already swept along by the residual waves of the qi force, spreading to the surroundings and obscuring everything around Monk Mingwu.

After Xie Jinhuan's figure stopped abruptly, he vanished completely, leaving not a single trace to be seen.

Monk Wuxin and Lu Wu Zhen, witnessing this instantaneous explosion, both showed a hint of surprise in their eyes; Lu Wu Zhen said:

"It's a good thing Monk Mingwu was holding the Vajra Staff, forcing Xie Jinhuan to avoid a frontal assault.

"Otherwise, with such momentum, without even using other techniques, twelve consecutive spears of the 'Black Dragon Strikes the Pillar' would have been enough to sweep aside Mingwu; the Unmoving Vajra Chan couldn't have held out, and he would have lost by now."

Monk Wuxin nodded, making no denial of this statement.

As the martial arts field was suddenly shrouded in smoke and dust, everyone knew the next spear strike was about to burst forth from the sea, yet it was delayed.

The suppressed atmosphere made the martial arts field feel somewhat terrifying, just like knowing a thunderclap was about to explode near one's ears, yet not knowing when it would sound, forcing everyone to be fully alert.

And the one under the greatest pressure in the arena was none other than the person within it.

Monk Mingwu was already poised to strike, his gaze fixed on the place where Xie Jinhuan had last vanished, yet constantly sensing the surroundings, searching for his position without cease, a bead of sweat slowly rolling down his forehead.

The result was a full-force explosion without warning, suddenly sounding from the side and rear:

Boom—

The crowd saw only a yellow earth tornado, from ten zhang away, piercing through the towering sandstorm, arriving in the blink of an eye behind the yellow-robed monk, with a point of grim, cold light at the very front!

"Zha—!"

Monk Mingwu roared almost simultaneously; his monk robes billowed, golden light flowed over his entire body, and he transformed into the Unmoving Vajra, surrounded by golden phantom figures.

Xie Jinhuan, holding the nine-foot long spear, drove his qi force to the extreme, giving the opponent no chance to react; the one-and-a-half-foot silver blade had already pierced through the golden bell phantom and stabbed into the monk's robe!

Clash—

Amidst the explosive sound of metal striking metal, the monk's robe tore into four pieces, revealing the silver-threaded soft armor beneath!

Supported by the Unmoving Vajra Chan, the soft armor did not sink or penetrate, only producing a few sparks!

After neutralizing the impact, Monk Mingwu immediately spun around, striking the spear shaft with the tip of his Vajra Staff, but Xie Jinhuan, like a roaming snake, instantly pulled away and once again vanished into the rolling yellow dust just raised!

The two exchanged blows in the blink of an eye, yet Zhang Guan, furious, slapped the table and cursed:

"Do you have no shame? Do Buddhist sects wear soft armor?"

The Abbot of Fanyun Temple spoke in a calm tone:

"Benefactor Xie wore it too."

"How can that be the same?"

Zhang Guan was so angry he wanted to fight on the spot; Nangong Ye and the Daoist Priests nearby felt the same.

After all, the signature supernatural power of the Chan Meditation School is the 'Unmoving Vajra Chan'; once cast, one is like a Vajra from head to toe, with the head being the hardest, making it difficult to break through defenses at the same realm.

Fanyun Temple's First Grade fighting a Second Grade, while holding a Vajra Staff, could achieve a one-strike kill.

The only way for Xie Jinhuan to win would be to snatch a chestnut from the fire, striking the same spot with several consecutive spears to break the defense.

And now, wearing a First Grade soft armor to increase the margin for error, Xie Jinhuan could no longer injure the vital body parts; the only remaining way to win was to 'stab the eyes' from the front.

Monk Mingwu blocked with his arm, striking the spear as it came; wasn't this pure cheating?

But before the crowd's argument could end, the commotion in the arena sounded again!

Xie Jinhuan, holding the spear and vanishing into the yellow dust, found this Iron Wang Ba harder than imagined, and changed his plan of 'Ghost in the Smoke' consecutive attacks to break the defense; his feet slid apart, the nine-foot long spear slid along his right hand to the side until the spearhead touched the ground.

Scrape~

The faint sound of the spearhead breaking the soil immediately attracted all gazes and restored the noisy stands to dead silence.

Scrape, scrape, scrape~

The spearhead scraped across the yellow earth ground, leaving a semi-circular arc!

Monk Mingwu could only vaguely see the figure within the drifting yellow dust; his feet slid apart, the long spear drew back, his body like a fully drawn strong bow, holding the spear tail with one hand, then his shoulders rose high:

Hum~

The qi force surged abruptly!

All the spectators in the arena felt a terrifying heavenly majesty suddenly rise from within the dust; the scattered sand around them gathered a few inches toward the center, and then:

"He—!"

The roar sounded like a dragon's cry from the nine heavens!

The qi force instantly shook away the sand, then power rose from the ground; the muscles of his shoulders and back knotted, and as the spearhead left the ground, the nine-foot long spear had already bent into a half-moon!

The qi force dragged the yellow earth and the sky-filling sand, as if pulling a long dragon up from the yellow earth ground with one hand!

Boom—

The nine-foot long spear, carrying the power to cleave the heavens, slashed forward; the qi force tore the ground ahead, forming a two-zhang wide trench.

The sky-filling sand split in two; from a distance, it looked like a yellow dragon falling to the world, smashing down upon the vast martial arts field!

Monk Mingwu could not imagine that a martial artist of the Second Grade and a half could produce such momentum comparable to a Super Grade; the yellow dragon wrapped in sand arrived in an instant, and he immediately let out another:

"Tchah—!"

His body instantly transformed into an angry Vajra; the golden bell phantom surrounding him was shattered in an instant, his monk robes riddled with holes, and as stones struck his body, sparks even flew.

Yet the Mingwu Monk remained motionless, as if his six-foot frame were forcibly bracing a storm capable of destroying everything in its path!

But this move was both the beginning and the end!

Boom—

Xie Jinhuan smashed his spear forward at the opponent; the moment the spear tip struck the ground, his legs exploded outward, leaving a pit over a zhang deep in the spot, and with both hands gripping the spear, he pierced the yellow dragon he had summoned; the spear tip tore through the air, emitting a shrill whistle that shook the soul and terrified the spirit, directly chilling the hearts of those with low cultivation around the training ground!

Whoosh—

Lu Wu Zhen and the Wuxin Monk, seeing this move swift as a thundering steed, knew Mingwu was finished.

The Unmoving Vajra Zen is called 'Unmoving' for two reasons: first, it means both body and mind remain unmoving as a mountain; once cast, it almost grants immunity to blades and axes striking the body and to mind-disturbing evil arts.

Second, it involves channeling supreme yang energy throughout the body to form a domineering physique; similar to Xie Jinhuan's 'Panchen Dragon Horizontal Ridge,' when forcibly enduring damage, the limbs are filled with qi force, leaving no room for movement, and the Vajra Zen effect is even stronger, turning one into an iron man.

Although this leaves no vital point, once a person cares too much about something, the place where that thing resides has already become their vital point!

Xie Jinhuan, exerting all his strength in two consecutive strikes, almost chasing the edge of the yellow dragon, collided with the Mingwu Monk nine feet away.

Facing the splitting spear carrying the vast might of the heavens, the Mingwu Monk crossed his arms before him, transforming his entire body into an unmoving divine Buddha, holding a vajra in his right hand.

This move could indeed block the first strike, but he clearly did not expect how fast Xie Jinhuan's second spear would come!

Xie Jinhuan pushed his physique and energy to the extreme; the spear, like a dragon's fang, pierced precisely at the wrist joint at the exact moment the raging yellow dragon collided with the Mingwu Monk!

Boom—

The razor-sharp half-zhang silver tip struck the golden skin unprotected by soft armor; even though he had gone all out, it still only penetrated half an inch of flesh and blood.

But this was enough to decide life and death!

The Mingwu Monk's energy channels and tendons were instantly severed, and his right hand immediately revealed a hint of its original skin color.

Sensing Xie Jinhuan wanted to knock away the weapon, the Mingwu Monk immediately retracted the Vajra Zen, and with his left hand seized the holy object, but at this very moment:

Whoosh~

Xie Jinhuan paid no attention to the vajra at all; he withdrew the spear at light speed and thrust forward, passing through the gap between the arms to point at the throat!

But in the instant before impact, the spear tip came to an abrupt halt!

The nine-foot spear only pierced a single drop of blood above the throat.

Click—

The vajra fell and stuck into the ground.

The training ground fell silent, with only the rustling autumn wind stirring up dust.

Hoo-hoo~...

The Mingwu Monk's left hand, reaching for the vajra, hovered in mid-air, while his right hand bled profusely; his gaze fixed on the spear tip at his throat, his whole body stiffened, and even his breath halted.

The Unmoving Vajra Zen can be released and retracted at will, but with the spear tip within three feet, he could only choose between the weapon and his life.

If he chose to save his life, the vajra would surely be taken, and one counter-stroke would kill him.

If he chose to protect the weapon, the time taken to reach for the vajra would be enough for the Minglong Spear to pierce his throat.

Either way, he was dead!

After a moment of stillness, Xie Jinhuan straightened his body, withdrew the long spear, and clasped his fists:

"Anything that, once taken by an opponent, leaves one unable to resist, should not be placed before that opponent; not just divine weapons and sharp blades, but anything one cares about has the same effect.

"Without this object, you were free of distractions and flawless; I would have had to fight for two quarters of an hour. With it, you were burdened by attachment, neglecting one thing to attend to another; I only needed three spears. My thanks."

His clear voice rang out, yet the training ground remained utterly silent.

After a long pause, the Mingwu Monk lowered his stance and performed a Buddhist bow:

"I have been taught."

And from the viewing stands, a round of applause came:

Clap, clap, clap...

Wu Zheng, looking at the motionless Mingwu Monk, filled his eyes with praise:

"Look at Xie Xiaoyou's demeanor; even after winning, he remains unarrogant and unagitated, and even understands some Buddhist principles..."

"?"

Those seated from both the Daoist and Buddhist sides, aside from the Abbot of Fanyun Temple, were actually only around Ranks 1–2; seeing the Mingwu Monk fall in three spears, their eyes all showed shock.

But those with clear eyes could see that the eldest disciple of Fanyun Temple and Xie Jinhuan, a 'Wind Spirit Valley Envoy of the World,' were not on the same level; a weapon could gain an advantage, but it could not change the gap in hard strength.

Zhang Guan had never thought the difficulty would be this great; seeing Xie Jinhuan still win so decisively, he came to his senses, his joy showing on his face, and stroking his beard, he sighed in admiration:

"No wonder the martial path follows the way of balance; it is always said that what determines one's cultivation is not one's strength, but one's weakness. What use is it to be merely tough-skinned and thick-fleshed like a Wang Ba? When facing a martial artist who only practices 'killing techniques,' there are a hundred ways to drill through a turtle shell."

"Yes, and soft armor, and the vajra..."

The Abbot of Fanyun Temple had guessed defeat was possible, but truly did not expect such a decisive loss, with no words to say; although his face did not look very good, he still responded:

"This is not your disciple from Mount Zihui or a follower of the Hidden Immortal Sect; all are tempered a thousand times before leaving the mountain, and none are common mortals. That my Fanyun Temple finds it hard to contend is reasonable."

"Heh, it is good to admit defeat when lost..."

And inside the surrounding buildings, as everyone came to their senses, a clamor rose.

Lin Zisu, who had dreamed of being a female knight-errant since childhood, began cheering with a group of Young Ladies:

"Xie Lang! Xie Lang..."

"Truly the consort of Empress Guo..."

"So handsome and fierce; if I had a man like this, I would die of happiness..."

On the Tower of All-Directions Clarity, Nangong Ye was initially very nervous, but seeing this result, he was not at all surprised.

After all, this young man, aside from being a bit roguish and bad, had never disappointed anyone in any other aspect...

In a nearby building, Princess Chang Ning, seeing her trusted general wielding the weapon gifted by her father and fighting so beautifully, also felt honored by association:

"Qingmo, this is a proposal to Mount Zihui. Fighting so beautifully, if you don't give a lucky token tonight, how can that be acceptable?"

Linghu Qingmo, seeing her boyfriend crush his opponent, was naturally overjoyed, but upon hearing these words, her expression stiffened again.

After all, from now on, if Xie Jinhuan touched or kissed her, it would be with the elders' approval, completely legitimate!

If she got pregnant, they would probably have to marry immediately...

What to do then...

Linghu Qingmo was about to speak when she suddenly heard a wail coming from a distant house:

"Ah—! How did he fall in just three strikes? Isn't he a First Grade?! I used inside information about the Vajra Staff, gathered my courage, and bet ten strikes... Ah—It's all gone..."

???

The crowd, who had been enjoying the spectacle, heard the wailing and all turned their heads, only to see the Wang Shizi banging his head on the ground, in agony and despair.

Because the noble young masters all thought Xie Jinhuan was more fierce, they all bet on him to win, so the betting pool was on the number of strikes Xie Jinhuan would make.

Your Highness the Wang Shizi was already very bold, but still underestimated Brother Xie's combat power, losing everything.

Princess Chang Ning, seeing this rascal of a brother who had inside information yet hid it to place a bet and still lost, immediately furrowed her willow eyebrows, and quickly ordered her subordinates to carry him out to avoid making a scene...

———

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