Jin Sanqiu's Probe

After Elder Ping took the Vermillion Fruit, his injuries had eased considerably, but he had yet to fully recover.

Such rare treasures were often most effective the first time they were used. Taking them again greatly diminished their potency.

Given his current condition, it would be no more than a cup of water against a blazing cartload of firewood.

Once he had finished regulating his breathing, he handed the remaining Vermillion Fruit back to Jiang Qinghe, who stood waiting at his side.

"Master, you..."

Seeing this, Jiang Qinghe could not help speaking up.

Elder Ping waved a hand, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"This thing is of little use to me now. Seal it away properly. It may perhaps aid you in the future."

"Alright, you should go as well. Get some rest early, lest you have no energy tomorrow!"

Though the first few realms of martial cultivation strengthened one's sinews and bones and made one's vitality far surpass that of ordinary people,

they still had to follow the natural order of heaven and earth. Night was for sleep, while daytime was when yang energy flourished.

The two understood this well. Moreover, their Master's current condition required quiet recuperation, so they did not disturb him further and withdrew from the pavilion.

Walking beneath the cold moonlight, Jiang Qinghe questioned his Senior Brother Zhao Guangyi in detail. Only then did he gain a clearer understanding of his Master's past and the Martial Academy's current state.

Back then,

with his Cultivation Level at the peak of Organ Refining, Elder Ping had stood above all others in Lin'an County. His reputation was immense, and he had been the undisputed number-one Great Martial Master.

Wanping Martial Academy had also enjoyed great renown, with Martial Disciples arriving in an endless stream.

Yet because of that trip into the Wasteland Forest, Elder Ping's Cultivation Level had fallen to the Bone Forging Realm.

It had also left hidden injuries in his internal organs. He could not engage in fierce combat, or the hidden injuries would worsen, placing his life in danger.

The Foundation Solidifying Pill could completely cure such chronic injuries.

This pill could consolidate one's foundation and nourish one's essence, restore failing internal organs, and reconnect damaged meridians. It was incomparably precious.

Not to mention this remote Lin'an County—even in the prosperous and flourishing Hidden Edge City, where experts gathered, ordinary people would find it difficult to obtain.

To Elder Ping as he was now, and to the steadily declining Wanping Martial Academy,

it was no different from flowers in a mirror and the moon's reflection in water—an unattainable dream.

After that drastic change, Elder Ping had become disheartened. Over the years, he had withdrawn from society and spent all year recuperating in the pavilion deep within the Martial Academy, almost never receiving outside visitors.

Even the Martial Disciples might only see him a few times over the course of a year or half a year.

The Academy's affairs had all been entrusted to Zhao Guangyi and Xiao Hei.

Only because he had recently taken Jiang Qinghe, this beloved disciple, had some of Elder Ping's accumulated bleakness been dispelled.

It had also given this silent Martial Academy a faint trace of vitality and hope.

Yet that was merely an outward appearance.

The Martial Academy seemed to retain its former scale and grandeur, but inside, it had long been declining with every passing day.

After the entrance fees paid by the Martial Disciples covered the daily operations of such a large Martial Academy, little remained.

Furthermore, Elder Ping could not easily fight or go out to hunt demons.

Yet the medicine that sustained his injuries and relieved his pain had never stopped, and that was another considerable expense.

Over the years, the foundations the Martial Academy had accumulated in the past had been nearly exhausted. They were about to run dry.

Jiang Qinghe recalled the dozen or so Bear Tendon Pills his Master had given him when he first became his disciple.

At the time, he had thought they were merely a drop in the ocean to his Master.

Now it seemed that even those might have been among the few remaining items in an already meager purse.

After bidding his Senior Brother Zhao Guangyi farewell, Jiang Qinghe walked back toward his own courtyard.

The night wind brushed past, carrying a touch of chill, while his heart felt heavy.

"My strength is still far, far from enough!"

His low sigh, filled with an urgent desire to grow stronger, blended into the night.

The next day was the second day of the new year.

It should have been a peaceful day for visiting relatives and friends and exchanging New Year blessings.

Yet as noon approached, the gates of Wanping Martial Academy were pounded loudly and without ceremony.

A group of uninvited guests had arrived with an imposing manner.

At their head stood a plump, round fifty-year-old man with a goatee.

His face gleamed with oil, showing not the slightest wrinkle. Only his hair and beard were faintly gray.

He was none other than the head of Golden Thunder Martial Academy—Jin Sanqiu.

At his side stood He Chong and the other two whom Jiang Qinghe had encountered in the Wasteland Forest yesterday.

Jin Sanqiu stroked a tuft of his goatee as he surveyed the Martial Academy's interior. Smacking his lips, he sneered, "Ping Jiuxiao, I haven't visited your Martial Academy in years. Why does it feel so much more desolate today?"

Elder Ping did not even raise his eyelids as he replied bluntly, "Jin Sanqiu, if you came here only to stroll around and wag your tongue, then crawl back to wherever you came from!"

He Chong, his face dark and gloomy, leaned close to Jin Sanqiu's ear.

He lowered his voice, yet made sure everyone nearby could hear him clearly. "Master, Junior Brother Wu, Junior Sister Yu Qi, and I went through untold hardships to find that Vermillion Fruit, only for this old bastard's disciple to snatch it away. Why waste words with him? Let's settle it with our fists and teach them how to behave!"

Jin Sanqiu raised his left hand slightly, signaling him to remain calm. His gaze turned toward Elder Ping and sharpened.

"Ping Jiuxiao, I, Jin Sanqiu, have always convinced people with reason. I heard that something my disciple obtained in the Wasteland Forest yesterday was taken by one of your disciples?"

"Hand it over. Return the item to its rightful owner, and I will treat this as a misunderstanding and leave at once with my people. How does that sound?"

Zhao Guangyi, standing beside Elder Ping, could no longer restrain himself when he saw them so brazenly twisting black into white and forcing such absurd logic upon them. He shouted, "Bullshit! When the young ones failed to rob it, they called the old one over to seize it? Your Golden Thunder Martial Academy truly comes from the same rotten stock—shameless from top to bottom!"

Jin Sanqiu wore a righteous and dignified expression as he drawled, "Young man, don't be so hot-tempered. My disciple was bullied, so naturally, as his Master, I must come seek justice for him and demand an explanation. That is only right and proper, isn't it?"

After saying this, he narrowed his eyes at Elder Ping.

The smile on his fat face slowly faded, and an invisible pressure began to gather.

"Ping Jiuxiao, it seems this old man will have no choice but to exchange a few moves with you today!"

Jiang Qinghe, who had been watching coldly, had thoughts racing through his mind.

Jin Sanqiu would not allow any explanation at all. He had immediately insisted that the Vermillion Fruit had been stolen from them. Clearly, he was using this as a pretext to stir up trouble.

It seemed the Vermillion Fruit was worth far more than he had estimated.

Otherwise, given Jin Sanqiu's status as the head of Golden Thunder Martial Academy, he would never have personally come knocking on the second day of the new year to commit such a forceful act that nearly tore all pretenses apart.

"Exchange moves?"

Elder Ping moved. He took a light step forward. His frame was thin, yet his back remained straight.

There was not the slightest anger on his face. Instead, he wore a faint, almost-smiling expression as he said evenly, "Since a defeated opponent from the past wishes to come here and humiliate himself once again."

He lightly rolled his wrist and looked calmly at Jin Sanqiu.

"Very well, Jin Sanqiu. I'll grant your request. It has been so long since I last fought that these old bones are about to rust. Today, I'll use you to get a feel for it again!"

Upon hearing the words "defeated opponent," Jin Sanqiu seemed to recall some scene from the past. A barely perceptible flash of shame and anger passed through the depths of his eyes.

But he gave no ground in words, his face full of mockery. "Hmph, Ping Jiuxiao, take it easy. Don't go breaking those rusty old bones of yours!"

Their gazes collided, as though invisible sparks burst between them.

The atmosphere instantly tightened, and a great battle was on the verge of erupting.